His Party Guest

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His Party Guest Page 5

by Melinda Barron


  Chapter 4

  “From a duchess to a queen in an hour.”

  Clarissa turned from where she studied her reflection in the mirror to where Kate stood in the doorway.

  “I hope you don’t mind me selecting that costume for you,” Kate said. “You’re so beautiful that I thought you would make a perfect Marie Antoinette.”

  “As long as there is not a Louis amongst the guests, or a guillotine in the gardens waiting for me, I’m fine with being the queen.”

  “No Louis,” Kate said. “I would not presume to match you with someone, although you and Andrew seem to be getting along. He asked to sit next to you at dinner tonight. Should I have offered him the Louis costume?”

  “No,” Clarissa said. She wanted to say that he and his friends were sexual perverts, and she wanted nothing to do with him. Instead she said, “He is a nice man, but I have no desire to have another husband.”

  Kate, who was dressed as a scullery maid, took a step closer. “What about your title? I know the queen hasn’t awarded the Dukedom to another man yet, but when she does you’ll be expected to marry him, I’m sure.”

  “She won’t force me,” Clarissa said. “She and my father are related somehow, distantly. I don’t quite know how, nor do I really care. She tried to talk me out of marrying Taylor. I wish I’d listened to her.”

  Clarissa moved to a chair. “Truthfully, I’m a little tired from the activities today. I probably won’t stay at the party long.”

  “As you wish,” Kate said. “I just wanted to stop by and tell you I’ve set you between two bachelors tonight, Andrew, and Baron Beckett’s youngest son, Ryan.”

  “I’ve never met him,” Clarissa said.

  “He’s charming, about your age, and, from what I’ve heard, he’s very interested in you.” Kate went to the mirror and fluffed back a piece of her hair. “He also asked to sit next to you at dinner.”

  Clarissa wanted to tell her that was just fine. It would be good to have someone to speak to other than Andrew because she planned on ignoring him. She knew, also, that Ryan was probably interested because he thought that whoever married her would become a Duke. That wasn’t true, of course. The queen could do whatever she wanted with the title. Clarissa was rather surprised that she hadn’t given it to someone else after the cretin’s death. Of course, Her Majesty could be waiting for just the right moment. The late Duke of Melbourne hadn’t exactly brought luster to the title. The queen could be letting things lie low until she decided what to do.

  Clarissa focused on her hostess as she spoke again.

  “I need to visit a few more guests,” Kate said. “Dinner is at eight, with dancing to follow. I hope you’re not too tired to dance.”

  “I can probably manage a few,” Clarissa answered. When Kate was gone Clarissa turned to Sally. “I won’t need your services later tonight. I’ll take a knife to the corset laces if necessary.”

  Sally nodded. “As you wish.”

  When she was gone, Clarissa sighed heavily. She wasn’t sure how the evening would play out, but she didn’t want Sally to be witness to whatever happened. If she ended up sleeping in her corset she didn’t care. During the first part of her marriage to Taylor, she’d spent a lot of time crying herself to sleep and sleeping in her clothes. Sally knew that, and she knew better than to argue.

  Clarissa really wanted nothing more than to stay in her room tonight. If it hadn’t been so late in the afternoon when she’d returned to the house she would have left for Bath. But she didn’t want to be seen as a person who ran from her problems. She wanted to identify the men she’d heard talk in the maze that afternoon. She wanted to know what they were looking for, and figure out what Taylor had done.

  She would just have to be careful in uncovering the truth. After one final look in the mirror she headed downstairs. She hoped at some point she would find a way to slap Andrew across the face again.

  Hopefully that would help her work out the anger she felt toward him right now.

  Her entrance caused quite a stir. When she looked around at the other costumes she could see why. Hers was encrusted with jewels, and she wore a diamond choker around her neck. The other guests were ghosts, a chimney sweep, a harem girl, and several people that Clarissa really didn’t recognize at first.

  Clarissa scanned the room and saw Andrew, leaning against the door to the ballroom. He was dressed as a pirate. He had a smug look on his face that made her narrow her eyes at him. He laughed, and she fought the urge to turn around and run back upstairs.

  He walked to her slowly, and she swallowed back a laugh because he wasn’t walking, he was swaggering. The plumed hat on his head gave him a rakish look, which fit with what he’d told her that afternoon about the Club he and his friends had formed. How could you defend a group that sanctioned orgies? She had half a mind to tell people about it.

  But then she thought about how she’d felt when people talked behind her back when Taylor had been sleeping with Belinda. And now she found out that Taylor was a thief, something she hadn’t heard anything about. She needed to get to the bottom of it. Did she need the help of Andrew and his friends? She certainly hoped not.

  Her laughter bubbled forth when Andrew stopped in front of her, bowed and swept his hat from his head. “Are you the governor’s daughter? If so, I need to kidnap you and take your virtue.”

  “I am the queen of France, sir,” Clarissa said and she snapped her fingers. “Off with his head.”

  “Can I have cake first?” he asked, and everyone around them laughed.

  “You’re a cad,” she said, refusing to use the word rake after what he’d told her that afternoon.

  “Even a cad can escort a queen to dinner.” He put his hat back on and offered her his arm. She thought about saying no, but she decided it was better to have him by her side to fend off whoever it was they’d overheard that afternoon. She wondered if it was Ryan, the young lord who was supposed to sit on her other side at dinner.

  She told herself no, that lords didn’t go around searching houses for stolen items. But then her stomach almost gave out on her as she thought about Taylor. Did his whore have anything else that he’d taken off people? She thought about confronting her, but then decided it wasn’t the best thing to do. Taylor may have been the worst duke in history, but she was still a duchess, and she would behave herself, no matter what.

  “You look very beautiful,” Andrew said as he led her through the group of people who had already gathered.

  “You look like a rogue, and with what I know about you, that’s not far off the truth,” she said.

  He laughed, which she hadn’t expected. To her mind he would defend himself. It was further proof to her that he was a rake.

  “Your Grace.” A young man appeared before them with two glasses of wine in his hand. “I have brought something to quench your thirst.”

  “Thank you,” she said, but she didn’t reach for it. “And you are?”

  “Lord Ryan,” he said.

  “I see, my other dinner partner.” She wanted to find Kate and ask her what she was thinking. This man was at least three years younger than Clarissa, unless he just had a baby face. She took the glass of wine from him. “Thank you, Lord Ryan.”

  “You’re welcome, Your Grace,” he said. He turned to Andrew. “Barton, I’m sorry I only have two hands. Perhaps you should go in search of your own drink.”

  Clarissa lowered her head to hide her smile. Lord Ryan was definitely not going to make things easy for Andrew.

  “Unlike you, I don’t need a crutch to approach a woman,” Andrew said. “I can speak with her without the gift of alcohol.”

  “If she knew your past she would run away from you as fast as she could,” Ryan said.

  “Which wouldn’t be far in skirts like she’s wearing.” Andrew chuckled before he said, “Lucky for me, yes?”

  “Gentlemen, please don’t trade jabs,” Clarissa said, although she was enjoying the idea that the two of them were
fighting over her.

  “Would you rather pistols at dawn?” Andrew asked. “I’m afraid my fencing skills are not what they should be, so I don’t see us dueling with sabers. How are your skills with… your sword?”

  His underlying meaning was easy to unmask, and Clarissa knew she shouldn’t laugh, so she turned her face away, looking over her shoulder to see who else was in the room.

  “You, sir, are no gentleman,” Ryan said.

  “At last we agree on something,” Andrew said. “And I see our hostess is calling us to the table.” Clarissa’s hand was still tucked in his elbow. “Shall we?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She inclined her head slightly in Ryan’s direction. “Please, sir, let us go.

  She didn’t miss the smirk Ryan sent in Andrew’s direction. Andrew helped her into her chair, which meant that Ryan was seated next to her before Andrew was.

  “Your Grace, if you would like me to ask our hostess to seat the cad in another place, I will,” Ryan said.

  He sounded so young, and she knew he wanted to be her champion.

  “Things are fine, Lord Ryan,” she said. “Thank you for your concern, though.”

  “All you have to do is say the word,” Ryan said.

  The meal started, and Clarissa did her best to divide her attention between the two men, but Ryan kept glaring at Andrew by leaning over his plate and Andrew kept throwing jabs Ryan’s way in an effort to rile the younger man.

  Finally, before the pudding was served, Clarissa glared at first Andrew, and then Ryan. “You both are acting like children.”

  “You can spank me if you like,” Andrew said. “I’m not afraid to be taken over a strong woman’s knee.”

  “You sir, apologize at once!” Ryan yelled. He stood and dropped his napkin to the floor.

  Andrew laughed and said, “I’m sorry, young man if I stole your thunder. Would you like to make the offer to the beautiful lady?”

  “Andrew,” Clarissa admonished him with just the use of his name. Her meaning was clear.

  “Lord Ryan, accept my apologies,” he said. “Perhaps I’ve had too much wine today.”

  “Perhaps you are a cad,” Ryan said.

  “A word used already today,” Andrew said. “Perhaps we should spend the rest of the evening thinking of words to describe me.”

  “I have a few but they can’t be used in front of ladies.” Ryan sat back down.

  Clarissa cleared her throat. Around them people were staring, clearly enjoying the tension between the two men as they vied for Clarissa’s attention. Instead of apologizing, she said, “Kate, the meal was truly delicious. My compliments to your cook.”

  “Thank you, Clarissa,” Kate said.

  “Here, here, she’s very right,” a deep voice said.

  Clarissa stiffened, and then she turned her head toward the voice. It was definitely from the man she’d overheard that afternoon. Across from her was a man she’d never seen before. He lifted his glass in her direction and then in Kate’s. She had no clue who he was, but he was definitely the man who’d lost a book to her husband—and wanted it back.

  * * *

  “What sort of a book is worth fighting over?” Clarissa was happy that Andrew was not holding her as tightly as she’d expected.

  “One of historical value, I’m sure,” Andrew said.

  “Who is the man who proposed the toast to the cook?”

  “Why do you ask?” Andrew responded.

  “His is the voice I heard,” she said, keeping her voice low as they twirled around the dance floor.

  “Interesting,” Andrew said. “I don’t think we should discuss it here.”

  “If you’re using this as an excuse to come to my bedroom tonight you are pushing in the wrong direction,” she said.

  “Then let’s discuss it now,” he said. “Shall we go over to Lord Neill, who calls himself the heir of Baron Marks? But, as you know, Baron Marks is not conscious, so he can’t say whether or not the man is truly his heir.”

  A couple danced by them, and the woman, Lady Valise, leaned close to them, and Clarissa knew she was trying to listen.

  “Stop talking,” Clarissa whispered as she drew him closer to her. The movement caused Lady Valise to smile.

  “Will your door be unlocked?” Andrew asked.

  Oh, how she wanted to tell him no, but she knew that was going to be the only way she would get information out of him without others eavesdropping.

  “Yes,” she said. “After midnight.”

  Andrew smiled.

  “I dislike you,” she said, turning her head away from him. His chuckle made her angry, but it also made her body tingle. “Damn you.”

  He laughed again. “Tonight, sweet Duchess. We’ll discuss your dislike of me then.”

  * * *

  Andrew led Clarissa over to where Ryan stood, tapping his foot against the floor. He wanted to taunt the man with a few barbs, but decided it would be better to just be a man and let him have his time with Clarissa. Andrew knew he would be the one in her bedroom tonight, even if it was just for talking. Or so she thought. He planned on seducing her, or at least trying to. Something told him he wouldn’t be successful the first time around, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. But, truthfully, they had quite a bit to discuss, and they needed to do it in private.

  He wanted a chance to talk with Buxton and Essex before he visited Clarissa’s bedroom, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to do that without arousing suspicions. He looked around the room. Lady Strauss was speaking with Kate. She’d been very quiet throughout dinner, and hadn’t confronted Clarissa afterward, either.

  Andrew found that very strange. He wondered if she had something up her sleeve for later in the evening, or perhaps tomorrow. Maybe he should ask Kate to push Ryan in Belinda’s direction. Surely he would enjoy being with her since he was losing the fight for Clarissa. Maybe he should ask Charlotte, too, about nudging Ryan in that direction.

  He made his way toward his friends, skirting the dance floor very carefully, but keeping an eye on where Ryan danced with Clarissa. He hated to admit the man was a good dancer, and she seemed to be enjoying herself as they twirled around the floor.

  “Watch it or you’ll lose her,” Buxton said as Andrew stepped close to him.

  “Not a chance in hell,” Andrew said. He cleared his throat. “She identified the voice.”

  “Not here,” Buxton said. “Too many ears. I’ll tell the wives we’re going out to enjoy a cigar.”

  Andrew nodded, then he watched as Buxton talked to Alice, and then waved a cigar in Essex’s direction. They left their wives and headed out toward the hallway. Andrew didn’t get a chance to talk to Charlotte about Ryan, but he figured he could do it later in the evening.

  They walked several feet away from the house, going in the direction that seemed to be empty of people who were trying to be alone.

  After they lit up their cigars, Andrew said, “Clarissa identified the voice she heard this afternoon.” He looked around and said softly, “Neill Marks.”

  “Interesting,” Buxton said. “He’s only been a member of society for three years, ever since his supposed uncle had his attack of apoplexy.”

  “And never recovered his voice,” Essex said. “Rumors are that the documents he presented are not the real thing.”

  “So who is he, really, and what is the book Clarissa’s late husband took from him?” Andrew puffed on his cigar.

  “Perhaps we need to hire someone to do a deep check on Marks,” Essex said. “There have been rumors that the Baron didn’t have an heir, and then Marks showed up. Where did he say he’d been? I don’t remember.”

  “Nor do I,” Andrew said. “Perhaps we should speak with him. Was he dancing with someone? I didn’t notice when I left.”

  “I haven’t seen him since dinner,” Essex said.

  The three men exchanged glances. “Do you think he’d be ballsy enough to search Clarissa’s room?” Andrew didn’t wait for an answer to his que
stion. He ground the cigar out on the bottom of his boot and took off for the house.

  “Wait!” Buxton called out, but Andrew ignored the warning to stop. He had the sinking feeling that Clarissa would head up to her room once he’d left the building, and he didn’t want her to be caught unawares.

  The pounding of footsteps told him Essex and Buxton were right on his heels.

  “Andrew, wait!” Anger tinged Buxton’s voice, and Andrew knew he should slow down. But panic welled inside him as he pictured Clarissa, her clear, soft skin bruised under Marks’ touch as he demanded to know the location of the book.

  Essex grabbed his arm before he could go into the house. “You’ll give away the only thing we have going for us if you confront him.”

  “If he hurts her…” Andrew felt as if fire ran though his bones at the thought.

  “He’s not going to do anything here,” Buxton said. “He met with his lackey earlier, didn’t he? The same man who is probably searching her house in Bath as we speak.”

  “He’s already done that,” Andrew said.

  “So he’s doing it again,” Buxton said. “You’re too attracted to the woman, and you’re thinking with your cock. Think with your head. She’s in a room full of people.”

  An idea popped into his mind, one that he really wanted to push out as fast as it had come. But it sat there and stewed and finally he said, “How did her husband die?”

  “Heart seizure,” Buxton said. “He was with Belinda when it happened.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it,” Essex said. “It was at the top of the gossip rags for quite some time. I think that’s why Clarissa stayed in Bath, to avoid the talk. It’s also, I’ll wager, why the queen has not bestowed the title on someone else, since there are no other kin. It’s tainted, you know.”

  “So you say,” Andrew said. “Have the dukes before him died in unusual ways?”

  Essex snorted, and Andrew wondered if he were about to be dressed down for not keeping up with the history of the Dukes of Melbourne.

  “The one before Taylor, Clarissa’s late husband, died in a carriage accident. He was thrown from the conveyance and then stomped to death by one of the horses. The one before him hung himself from the rafters of his barn. Indeed, the title is cursed.”

 

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