by Cheryl Holt
“Fine. Go. We’ll talk about it later.”
She stomped out, muscling by Clarissa as Clarissa entered the room.
Angela paused in mid-stride, her malice oozing out. “If you proceed with Captain Harlow, I’ll kill you.”
Clarissa blanched with dismay, but before she could reply, Angela marched off. The butler shoved Clarissa inside and closed the door.
“Sit, Clarissa, would you?” Roland pointed to the chair Angela had just vacated.
Clarissa walked over and eased herself down. Roland sat in the chair across.
“You wanted to see me?” she asked.
“I was wondering if you’ve considered Captain Harlow’s proposal.”
“It wasn’t a proposal. It was a command.”
“Whatever you call it, you seemed quite upset about it yesterday.”
“I was.”
“Now that you’ve had some time to reflect, I was curious as to your opinion.”
“I would never marry him,” she insisted.
“Why not?”
“First of all, because he’s an overbearing tyrant.”
“Most husbands are.”
“And second of all, because I would never betray you and Angela. I realize we haven’t always gotten along, but I’m very grateful to your family for supporting me. I would never hurt you.”
Poor, poor Clarissa! So noble! So stupidly kind-hearted!
She was such a fool, such an idiot. Didn’t she know a person never thrived by being selfless and good? Why didn’t she join a bloody nunnery?
“I want you to wed him,” he said.
“What?” She scowled and shook her head. “I can’t have heard you correctly.”
“In fact, I’m hoping you’ll agree.”
“You can’t mean it.”
“Oh, but I do. I want it very, very much.”
“Why would you? It makes no sense.”
Roland understood the world much better than Clarissa. He had to seize control of what was occurring. Otherwise, all would be lost for sure.
Captain Harlow would never marry Angela, so the only other available Merrick female was Clarissa. If Clarissa became his wife, Roland would retain his connection to the estate. In the past he’d been able to manipulate her, and after she was Harlow’s bride, Roland would continue that manipulation.
If Clarissa didn’t marry Harlow, he’d wed outside the family. That was Roland’s biggest fear. There were many stories circulating about Captain Harlow. Every woman in the kingdom was gunning for him, and apparently he already had a mistress, Penelope Bernard, a notorious slut with the loosest morals imaginable.
What if Clarissa spurned the Captain, and he wed Miss Bernard instead? What if he brought Miss Bernard to Greystone? Just from contemplating such an outrage, he was so angry that red dots formed in his vision, as if he was about to suffer an apoplexy.
“If I wed the Captain,” Clarissa said, “Angela would kill me. You heard her.”
“Don’t worry about Angela. Worry about me. Worry about what I’m begging you to do.”
“You’re begging me? I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s galling that we’ve had to surrender Greystone. At least if you’re his bride, we’ll have a link to the property. If you refuse, he’ll marry someone else and install her here. I’m certain of it.”
“You don’t know that,” she protested.
“I predict he’ll ride to town and be entrapped by the first debutante who can lure him into a compromising situation.”
She smirked with annoyance. “He’s too clever to be caught in such a way.”
“But you’ve caught him, you lucky girl, and you didn’t have to try!”
“I don’t feel lucky, Roland. I feel bullied and pressured and extremely anxious over the whole affair. He can have any woman in the world. Why would he pick me?”
“You’re selling yourself short, Clarissa. You’re very beautiful.” She raised a hand to stop him, and he hurriedly added, “No, you are! We can admit it. You’re beautiful, and he wants to be kind to us. He wants to make amends. Let’s let him.”
“I’ll be his wife when the ceremony is over, perhaps for a very long time. The aggravating man might live to be a hundred merely to spite me.”
Not if I have anything to say about it!
If Clarissa wed Captain Harlow, and he should happen to perish, she’d be a widow and the sole owner of Greystone. She’d need a husband to help her run the sprawling estate. Who better than Roland?
He slid off his chair and knelt before her. “Please, Clarissa.”
“Get up, Roland. You’re embarrassing me.”
“Please!”
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “I can’t decide what’s best.”
“Then listen to me, as the male head of our family. Marry him for me. Pay me back for my generosity over the years.”
She rose and pulled him to his feet. Looking pained and conflicted, she skirted by him and went to the door. He turned to her, his expression beseeching.
“I have to think about this,” she murmured.
“You don’t have long. It’s already Tuesday.”
“Let me…ah…talk to Eddie about it.”
If the bloody girl doesn’t urge you to proceed, I’ll take a switch to her!
He nodded, smiling. “Yes, by all means speak to Eddie, but I’m sure she’ll tell you I’m right. What option is there but for you to wed the Captain?”
“When you leave in two weeks, could I go with you?”
“I can’t bring any of you Clarissa. I don’t have the resources.”
“There’s no chance?”
“No.”
She sighed. “I’ll give you my answer by noon today.”
“Don’t fail me, Clarissa. I know you won’t.”
She didn’t offer him a positive reply, but said, “I’ll find you at noon.”
CHAPTER TEN
“What should I do?”
“Are you joking? You should marry Captain Harlow immediately!”
Feeling horribly disappointed, Clarissa frowned at Edwina. She’d been certain Eddie would be an ally, that she’d understand and commiserate. Obviously Clarissa had misjudged her. But then, Eddie was just eighteen, so it probably wasn’t fair to expect an adult assessment.
“How can you say that?” Clarissa asked.
“What girl wouldn’t want to be his bride?”
“Me, for one.”
“You have to be the only female in the kingdom who thinks like that.”
“Would you do it?”
“In one second flat,” Eddie gushed. “He’s so gallant and dashing.”
“Captain Harlow? Gallant? Dashing?”
“Don’t pretend he’s not.”
“There are many terms I might choose to describe him, but they would be more along the lines of rude, overbearing, and dictatorial. He’d bully me to death.”
“Only if you let him.”
“How would I stop him? He’s a tyrant.”
“Wives control their husbands all the time. You’ll figure it out, and in a thrice, you’ll have him wrapped around your little finger.”
“If only that were true.”
They were strolling in the garden, with Clarissa trying to exude a calm, composed demeanor, but after her conversation with Roland, she was in a frantic state.
Captain Harlow barged through life, tromping over people who got in his way, with Clarissa merely the latest person to be knocked into the ditch.
Who would listen to her concerns? Who would take her side?
She wanted to wed for love, wanted to feel special, cherished, and esteemed. As Captain Harlow barked orders and blustered about, she’d be crushed under the weight of his disregard. It would be exhausting, and she’d be miserably unhappy.
Out on the lane, two riders were nearing the house, and as she studied them, she saw that it was the Captain and his brother. They were chatting, laughing, their fond affec
tion clear.
She pulled Eddie to a halt, hovering behind the hedges so he wouldn’t glance over at her. He’d likely jump off his horse and inflict himself on her. The man had no manners at all, and she didn’t intend to talk to him until she was sure of what she should say.
Their amorous rendezvous the previous night had left her more confused than ever. She seemed to like him more than she realized, and she was afraid that—should she continue to fraternize with him—he’d wear her down and change her mind when she had no desire to change it.
“There’s the Captain,” Eddie said.
“I see that.”
“And you claimed he isn’t dashing. Just look at him! Was there ever a more handsome male specimen?”
“He is handsome. I won’t deny it.”
“I spoke to his brother about you.”
“To Rafe Harlow? I wish you hadn’t.” Clarissa scowled. “You didn’t…go off alone with him, did you?”
“Would I be that reckless?”
“I hope you wouldn’t. He might be a tad too sophisticated for you.”
“I know how to act. I’m not Angela.”
“Praise be.”
The Harlows disappeared around the stables, and she and Eddie started walking again.
“Why were you conferring with Private Harlow?” Clarissa asked.
“I was curious about what kind of husband the Captain would be.”
Clarissa could have bitten off her tongue rather than inquire. “What did he say?”
“The Captain will never beat you.”
Clarissa stumbled and missed a step, having to clutch Eddie’s arm to steady herself. “It was never a behavior that concerned me in the slightest.”
“Women need to worry about those things.”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“He also said his brother is loyal and decent and honorable. If he gives his word, he keeps it.”
“That’s a plus, I guess.”
“They might be rich too.”
“Of course they are. Or they will be. They own Greystone. It’s not exactly a pauper’s estate.”
“No, I mean it sounds as if they were rich before the Captain ever received Greystone.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Some of Private Harlow’s comments.”
“You were discussing his finances?”
“Not discussing them precisely. He mentioned he was wealthy.”
“Convenient of him.”
“Wasn’t it though?” Eddie was innocent as a new-born lamb.
Clarissa wondered if Captain Harlow was wealthy too. He’d been raised by the Harlows, but wasn’t their son, and she couldn’t imagine them endowing him with any of the family’s money. In any event, Captain Harlow—should he ably manage Greystone—would be extremely affluent going forward.
Eddie read Clarissa’s thoughts.
“If you wed him, Clarissa, you’ll be rich too. You won’t have to fret over your situation, and you won’t be beholden to Roland and Angela ever again.”
“No, I’ll simply be beholden to my despotic husband.”
“But isn’t that every woman’s lot in life? What if he turns out to be marvelous?”
“Captain Harlow? Marvelous?”
“It could happen.” Eddie pulled Clarissa around to face her. “What is it, Clarissa? It isn’t like you to be so melancholy. Why are you fussing so much?”
“It’s all so unexpected and peculiar. I’ve been elevated above everybody and ordered to marry a stranger—”
“A handsome, rich stranger.”
“Who just arrived, and we know naught about.”
“He’s England’s hero. It’s quite a bit of pertinent information.”
“True.”
“We’ve met his brother and heard his opinion that the Captain is decent and honorable.”
“Yes, but—should I wed him—I’ll become mistress of Greystone, and it seems…wrong. Why should I be given so much? Why should I wind up with everything and my cousins with nothing?”
“Clarissa,” Eddie clucked, “have a little faith in yourself. You’re smart and beautiful and you’ll be terrific as mistress of Greystone. I, for one, think it’s about time you caught a lucky break.”
“Roland wants me to marry the Captain. He begged me.”
Eddie frowned. “That’s odd.”
“Isn’t it though? If he’s so eager for me to proceed, there must be facts I don’t understand. It’s worrying me. What if I forge ahead only to learn that I’ve ensnared myself in a mess I didn’t see coming?”
“You can’t be worse off than you are now. At least you’ll have a husband, and he’ll be sworn to protect and care for you. It’s more than I’ll have.”
They started off again, Eddie pondering, Clarissa fretting. Finally Eddie said, “Look at it this way, Clarissa. Roland might be plotting mischief, but so what? Once you’re Mrs. Matthew Harlow, Roland can choke on a crow. He can’t harm you.”
“You’re probably right,” Clarissa murmured.
It was nearing the noon hour, nearing the moment when she’d advised Roland she’d have a decision for him. What should she do? Had she any choice but to agree?
Eddie firmly believed Clarissa should wed the Captain, but Eddie was a dreamer and romantic who had no notion of the grueling nature of matrimony, of how miserable the parties could be if they made a grand mistake. But would it be a mistake? How was she to know? Was any bride ever sure?
They were almost to the house when the Harlow brothers appeared on the path. They were approaching the house too, and Captain Harlow stopped and glared at Clarissa. His expression was vain and certain, as if visually reminding her he’d get his way in the end. She wanted to run from his pompous glower, but if she raced off, he’d already proved that he’d chase after her.
“There they are,” Eddie said. “Let’s say hello.”
“You go on. I need to lie down.”
Eddie scoffed. “I declare, Clarissa Merrick, you’re a frightened ninny. I never would have thought it of you.”
“In this instance? Yes, I’m absolutely terrified, and it’s noon, so would you excuse me? I have to find Roland.”
“Why?”
“I told him I’d consider the engagement through the morning, then give him my answer.”
“What have you decided?”
“I still have no idea.”
* * * *
Clarissa was walking the halls, hunting for Roland, but he was nowhere to be found. She was about to quit searching when the sound of a harpsichord drifted by, someone tinkering with it in the music room.
She couldn’t imagine who it would be. No one in the family was artistically inclined, although there must have been talent in the Merrick past. The salon was stocked with all the appropriate instruments, and back in the years when they’d actually entertained, guests used them. Now though, they were abandoned and covered with cloths to keep off the dust.
Curiosity dragged her to the rear of the house, to the music room, and when she peeked inside, Captain Harlow was seated on the bench and plunking out a melody. She didn’t recognize the tune, but it might have been a sailor’s sea shanty.
She was stunned. He was such an unlikely person to be a musician, and she couldn’t resist the chance to furtively watch him. He hadn’t noticed her, so she should have tiptoed away, but she didn’t. He was magnetic and intriguing, and she was as riveted by him as everyone else seemed to be.
Suddenly his fingers paused over the keys, and he peered at the far wall, almost as if he’d fallen into a trance. She was certain, should she call out to him, he wouldn’t hear her.
The most beguiling smile creased his lips. What was he seeing? And why would he see it? Was he touched in the head? Was he prone to bouts of lunacy? There had been many stories circulated about him, but none that mentioned insanity.
She knew she should leave, and she moved to pull herself away when he sighed and shuddered, then he shifted on the ben
ch, which meant he was staring directly at her.
He blinked and blinked again, as if she might be a hallucination. But no, she was really there, and if he was embarrassed by her having witnessed his odd stupor, he hid it well.
“Miss Merrick! Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hello Captain.”
“Were you looking for me?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? You can admit it if you were.”
“I wasn’t looking.” She pointed to the harpsichord. “I heard someone playing, and I came to learn who it was.”
“Why are all the instruments covered?”
“None of us have any talent. We keep them for company, but since Harold’s troubles began, we haven’t socialized much.”
“I’m told the neighbors have shunned you.”
“Yes, they have. It saddens me.”
“We’ll fix the situation easily enough after we’re wed. I am Captain Matthew Harlow, England’s hero. When they find out you’re my wife, they’ll flock to be your best friend. You’ll have to beat them away with a stick.”
He stood, shutting the lid on the instrument and drawing the cloth over it.
“You don’t have to cover it,” she said. “If you’d like to use the place, you can. We’ll simply inform the housekeeper to have the maids ready it for you.”
“They needn’t bother.” He made a dismissive gesture. “I’m too busy to dawdle in here.”
“Are you a skilled keyboardist?” she asked. “I can’t picture it in you.”
“No. I merely like to dabble occasionally.”
“Did you have lessons as a boy?” It was such an unmanly hobby. Girls learned, but boys usually didn’t.
“Mrs. Harlow tried to teach me, and I had some natural ability, but I didn’t have the necessary patience to sit still while she instructed me.”
“You must have been a handful.”
“I definitely was.”
There was an awkward silence, and she nodded a goodbye. “It was lovely to see you. Perhaps we’ll talk after supper.”
“Let’s take a walk.”
“I can’t just now. I have to speak to Roland and—”
Before she could finish her sentence, he was across the room and had clasped hold of her arm. He swooped in and stole a kiss, and she did nothing to deflect it.
