“I think perhaps you should rest instead of coming down to sup with us,” he said worriedly.
“No, I will be fine. If I am in my own company, I will only sit and dwell on it.”
Justin studied her for a moment before continuing, “Laird McTavish is coming to sup with us tonight. He is the laird whose property adjoins ours.”
“The same who has the son you no longer speak of?”
“Actually that is his nephew, and I see you have been talking to my sister. Stay out of what you don’t understand, Clarissa.”
“I believe I understand perfectly.”
“Be cordial to him,” Justin commanded.
“Why would I be anything else? I am the perfect hostess after all, aren’t I?” she added caustically. Clarissa pulled her arm from Justin’s grip and escaped down the stairs before he could stop her. She entered the dining room with Justin on her heels. “Please excuse my tardiness,” she said to the room at large, sounding every inch the daughter of a duke. “I was checking on Megan before I came down.”
“How is she?” Justin’s mother asked worriedly.
“She’ll be fine. I have left word for one of the maids to soak washcloth in lavender water every thirty minutes. I know it always helps my headaches.” Content that her daughter would be well cared for, the countess rang a bell for the meal to be served. “I apologize for having to meet like this,” she said, turning to the new male that stood as she entered the dining room. “You must be Laird McTavish.” She smiled, politely, but it never moved past her mouth.
“Not too much, I hope. And please, call me James.”
Clarissa inclined her head in acknowledgement of his request. “Please, let’s all be seated and continue on with the meal.” All the men took a seat, Justin’s father and grandfather, James, and Clarissa’s father, warily watched her.
Justin did not look happy as he assisted Clarissa to her chair. He took a seat beside her, while James sat across from her. The older man was attractive. His dark hair was cut short and had a slight wave to it, giving him a rakish appearance. His eyes shimmered a silvery blue in the candlelight on the table. His shoulders were broad and he appeared to be of the same height as Justin. If Megan’s Liam looked anything like this man, she could see what had attracted the other woman to him. As the footmen served the soup, Clarissa directed her conversation to James.
“James, what does a Laird do all day?”
“Much the same as your father, I would guess. I see to my lands and my people. We keep our eyes out for strangers in hopes they might be a Frenchie, and we can do our part for this war.”
“And Liam is your?” she asked, even though she knew the answer. A good hostess always keeps the conversation going.
“Nephew. I have raised him, his brother and twins since their parents’ death. Liam and Aedan were but lads. The twins were still in their nappies.”
“Why did Aedan not join you this evening?”
“He is away on business.”
“I understand Liam is making plans to join in the fight,” Justin’s grandmother said.
“Where is that young man?” Seamus asked. “He owes me a game of cards.”
“Did Meg not tell ye’? Perhaps that’s why she isn’t joining us tonight,” James looked at Clarissa, who merely bowed her head. “Liam was summoned by the War Office earlier than expected. He hopes to be back in a fortnight.”
“Yes, that would explain Meggy not joining us,” Justin’s mother sighed.
“In London, all the men talk about is making predictions about Bonaparte’s next move,” Clarissa said, feeling Justin stiffen beside her. She didn’t know how much of his family knew what he did in London, but from his reaction, she suspected that several family members still might not know.
Clarissa acted the perfect hostess. She remained silent when the conversation was not directed at her. She answered when someone asked her a question. Her mind began to wander through the meal, as if she were moving a long way away from the dining room. Vaguely, she heard James keeping everyone entertained with stories of Liam’s younger siblings, a boy and a girl that everyone called ‘the twins’. It seemed Liam’s parents had passed away long ago, and he and his siblings were left in the care of his widower uncle.
Underlying everything, however, was the tension between both her and her father and her and Justin. Snippets of their separate conversations filtered through her mind. Anger and despair would take turns alternating through her mind. She could feel her body react to the stress. The muscles of her shoulders and neck stiffened. Her head throbbed. Her temple felt as if someone were driving a nail through it. She wanted desperately to roll her shoulders and neck, but knew that would only bring attention to her and not be considered particularly lady-like. So she sat quietly and continued to act the perfect hostess as if nothing were wrong.
The courses kept coming out, one after another. Usually, she ate heartily. Today was different. She forced herself to eat the food on her plate. When she did, everything tasted like sawdust in her mouth. She chewed slowly and had to sip wine to help the food go down. By the time dessert had been placed in front of them, her stomach churned nauseatingly.
The clock ticked loudly in the room during the moments of silence. Both Matilda and the countess studied each person in the room as if trying to determine what caused everyone such misery. Clarissa took a sip of her wine, hoping that it would settle her stomach. Instead it just made it worse. She felt flushed and could feel beads of perspiration trickling down her back. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, struggling to hide how poorly she felt.
It was the stress of the situation, attempting to act like everything was perfect and normal as her world crumbled around her feet. She put the glass of wine back down and noticed her hand had a slight tremor. The whole situation was just too much. Her father’s ultimatum. Justin’s attitude towards his sister’s situation, which seemed a direct reflection on her person. Lorraine and Franklin and their scheming ways. Nearly succumbing to a runaway boulder and being half frozen. Megan and her problems. Papa and Justin making secret deals about her life. Someone shooting at her. And to top everything off, her fiancée was a spy. They would be in constant danger. As angry as she felt, the realization that someday he might not come home at all hit her with such clarity as to blind her to all else.
When the countess suggested they retire to the salon for reading or cards, Clarissa stood, her head whirling. Bright spots had begun to filter in and out of her vision, making her dizzy.
“Are you all right?” Justin asked her from what seemed to be a long way away. She steadied herself by gripping the edge of the table.
“Of course,” she stated firmly, hoping that she would believe the words herself. She looked across the table and saw the look of concern cross both James and her father’s faces. She decided then and there she had to get away, if only for the evening. Seek refuge in her bedroom, anywhere where she could lock out the rest of the world. “I believe I will retire for the evening,” she announced to those in attendance.
“Are you certain you are all right, Clarissa?” The countess’s voice sounded distorted to her ears, and she looked out of focus. She blinked rapidly, pleased to see only one countess now.
“I am fine, just tired. James, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Did her speech sound slurred to everyone else?
“I will escort you,” Justin said, clasping her upper arm.
“No,” she removed her arm from his grip. “I can see myself to my room,” she stated firmly, with more meaning behind the words than what he comprehended. “You stay and visit with your guest,” Clarissa added, just like a perfect fiancée would. She turned and left the room. She walked slowly, her hand following along the wall to keep herself steady.
When she came to the stairs, she took a deep breath as she looked up them. Never before had she found a stairway to be so imposing. She was halfway to the first landing when the world began to spin sickeningly. The bright lights retur
ned with appalling speed, followed quickly by dark spots. Clarissa tried to call out for help but could not make her voice work.
Her left leg went numb, and she grabbed for the banister hoping it would help her right herself. It didn’t. She felt a pain in her shoulder as she twisted oddly. Her hand lost its grip on the railing. Clarissa felt herself begin to fall as if in a dream.
It felt slow and ethereal. She felt herself bounce off every step she had climbed. Clarissa couldn’t tell if she even yelled as she rolled down the stairs. They were unmerciful in the pounding they gave her body until finally she felt the hard floor beneath her. Amazed she was still conscious, she heard a wobbling sound to her left. She watched, unable to protect herself, as a great, blurry, object fell towards her. She felt a throbbing in her head after it made contact, then blessedly darkness overtook her and her pain disappeared.
Chapter 14
Justin trailed the rest of the group as they entered the salon his mother favored for after-dinner activities when they had visitors. A cacophony of sound came from the hallway. He stepped into the hall to see what had happened. Horror washed through him as he witnessed Clarissa lying prone on the ground, a suit of armor on top of her. The battleaxe it held in its hand lay perilously close to her head, a tinge of red along its edge.
“Grams,” he yelled before rushing to Clarissa’s side. Edward and James quickly joined him, and they moved the armor off of her, while Justin held her still. The pounding of feet heralded the entrance of the rest of the family.
“Don’t move her,” Matilda commanded, and he had to stop himself from touching her, holding her.
“I heard... She was... Dear God,” Justin said in a husky voice as he ran the back of his fingers against her cheek.
“Princess,” he heard her father say softly. His face had turned ashen. A nasty gash lanced across her temple and bled heavily, coloring her blonde tresses a rusty brown. His grandmother joined him on the floor and very methodically began checking for broken bones. He watched with baited breath as she gently checked her neck then moved on to her eyes and pushed the area around her temple.
“She’s lucky. No broken bones, but her eyes are heavily dilated. We’ll have to keep a close eye on her and that head injury.”
“All my fault,” he heard the duke moan.
“What are you talking about?” Justin demanded. “What have you done?”
“Enough,” Matilda interrupted impatiently. “Now is not the time to cast blame. Justin, carry her carefully up to her room. I will be there in a moment. Daughter, you go ahead and begin getting her out of her clothes. Seamus, Edward, perhaps His Grace could use some fortification.”
“Aye.” Everyone began moving, carrying out Matilda’s orders. Justin shook to his very core as James helped him to lift Clarissa into his arms. She was as limp as a ragdoll. Her breathing was shallow, but even.
“Do you need help?”
“I’ve got her now.” He heard the tremor in his voice. Dammit, he should have ignored her and escorted her to her room as he originally intended. He carried her up the stairs to her room and deposited her on the bed. Justin ran the back of his fingers caressingly down her cheek once more, as if just the touch might revive her.
“She’ll be fine. Mother will see to that. Go join the men.”
“She was different today.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. She seemed angry, hurt maybe. It was as if she didn’t like me anymore.”
“She seemed very tense during the meal,” his mother commented. “I’m sure everything will be fine. Go on and let your grandmother and me take care of her. I’ll call you after we’re done.” He nodded and walked out the door. Megan stood outside Clarissa’s door, her eyes red and puffy, and her face blotchy.
“Justin, what happened? I heard all the noise and saw you carrying Clarissa.”
“She took a fall. Go back to bed.”
“No. Clarissa listened to my troubles, now I will help her.”
“And what troubles do you have?” he demanded softly walking to the stairs.
“More than you realize, Justin.” Justin grabbed his sister by the arm and marched her into her room shutting the door behind them.
“What did you tell her?” Justin asked.
“We talked about how you are standing in the way of Liam and me being married.”
“You don’t know…”
“No, Justin, you don’t know, or perhaps you do and do not want to face it. Jonathan was not normal.”
“I will not have you say one bad thing against our deceased brother.”
“That’s right. Everyone has their perfect little slot that you fit them in, isn’t that correct? I want you to listen to me for a moment. Jonathan was not perfect. He had an evilness inside him that could not be fixed. I saw it myself, and I told Liam. You would not have listened to me if I had tried to tell you. And I’m not sure Da’ or Mamma would either. He frightened me, Justin.”
“I don’t care if he is your confidant, you are not marrying Liam.”
“Liam tried to tell you about him, didn’t he?”
“We are not discussing this now, you will not marry McTavish.”
“I will, Justin, and you cannot stop me. Do you understand? If you force me to choose Liam over you, I will choose him every time.”
“Does our being siblings and family mean so little to you?”
“No, Justin, it means a great deal to me, but the father of my child is more important to me.” Megan watched as understanding dawned on Justin’s face. “And don’t you dare imply that I am either a trollop or a harlot as you have done in the past. I love Liam with all my being, as he does me. We would have been married tonight if he had not been called to London unexpectedly.”
“And he went, knowing that you…”
“No. He doesn’t know. You and Clarissa are the only ones that know. I was going to tell him tonight, after our wedding.”
“You were going to elope, despite what Da’ said?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you should tell me exactly what you saw Jonathan do all those years ago that had you so frightened.”
“Are you certain that you want to hear it? ”
“Yes.”
She told him quietly everything that she had told Clarissa. “I just can’t get over the fact that he looked like a man possessed.”
“And you are certain that he intentionally maimed the boar rather than killing it?”
“Absolutely. He was too close. I could have killed it from where I was further up the ridge.”
“I wish you had told me this long ago.”
“You wouldn’t listen to me. You didn’t listen to Liam.”
“Are you going to tell Mamma and Da’ about the bairn?” Justin asked his sister.
“No. I hope that Liam will return within the month, and we can be married as planned. Then we will more than likely return to London.”
“Meggy, you did not happen to mention to Clarissa about me calling you a trollop or harlot, did you?”
“I told her everything. I was so upset that I just talked and rambled,” she said slowly as if he were daft and having difficulty understanding. “She did seem to be very angry after I told her that.”
“I’m sure she was,” he muttered, his face turning ashen.
“Justin, you and she, well, I mean, you are engaged. And who am I to talk, I mean look at the situation Liam and I are in. I swear, I did not mean to cause problems between the two of you.”
“Forget it.”
“Are you all right?”
“No, not really,” he turned and left Megan’s room. When he reached Clarissa’s room, he stepped across the hall and slid down the wall, not taking his eyes off the door.
***
Time slipped past as he sat there waiting for the door to Clarissa’s room to open. He cursed himself and called himself every type of fool. No wonder she would not speak to him at dinner and shook off his tou
ch when he tried to escort her afterwards. His head fell forward, and his hands were loosely clasped about his knees. He began to pray quietly.
Soon he felt a presence beside him. Somehow Clarissa’s father had quietly sunk beside him. He looked over and saw the lines of worry on the old man’s face.
“This is my fault,” Hamilton said softly, never looking away from the door. “Clarissa and I had a terrible argument over that blasted will. It has caused me nothing but grief ever since I had it written up. The first thing I’m doing when we return to London is to change it. I can’t force her into doing anything, and it was stupid of me to think that I could. She is so much like her mother. And it seems as if it is just now showing in her.”
“What do you mean?” Justin asked, curious about the woman Clarissa had lost at such a young age.
“She was stubborn to a fault, but how I loved her. We started out as very good friends. Our parents were friends and thought the match would be a good one. But somehow she embedded herself into every part of my life. She could be stubborn to a fault. She died in childbirth. The screams, I’ll never forget them. They called me to the room, and she was lying there, so weak and there had been so much blood. Lizzie looked at me and said, ‘I gave you a son, aren’t I clever? Now we have a matched pair.’ Then she closed her eyes and left me.” Justin placed a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “My son died a few hours later. We buried them together. I can’t bear to lose Clarissa as well.”
“You won’t.”
“What if I already have? What if the will has pushed her away? What if I have pushed my princess far beyond the realm of forgiveness? I’ve made so many mistakes.”
“It seems we will both have to work on winning her back.”
***
Inside the room, Clarissa moaned as she bent over the chamber pot losing the rest of her meal. Dry heaves wracked her body, making her stomach clench in pain. But at least she was awake, barely. Every part of her body hurt from the fall. She recalled something heavy falling on her, but could not bear to think of it at the moment. Later, she promised herself.
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