However, much of the information and almost all his brother’s demands had flown clean through his mind without sticking at all.
After all, if he were to try to win Clarissa back, he could not be found once again to be mixing business with pleasure. On this occasion, Gabriel would simply have to be disappointed. As far as Spencer was concerned, there was far more at stake in his own personal life, and he only wished that he had realised it very much sooner.
With Lord and Lady Thompson’s greetings well and truly out of the way, Spencer had made his way directly to their large and rather pleasantly decorated ballroom. Everything there was rather tastefully done with the wall panelling painted in a pale lemon colour which reflected the large and modestly cut chandeliers perfectly and gave the entire room an overall feeling of great space.
The very moment that he had entered the ballroom, Spencer immediately found her. There, in a small gathering which included Harriet Lennox, Harriet’s parents, and the Earl of Marston stood Clarissa Kensington.
She was wearing a beautifully rich ivory coloured gown with a silk sash of the same colour drawn in beneath the bust line. The sleeves were short and not too puffy, and she wore long white gloves. Clarissa wore nothing at all around her neck, and it only served to highlight the beautiful unblemished creaminess of her skin. Her golden hair was full and thick and had been wound neatly up on top of her head with wavy tendrils framing her face and sitting softly on her collarbone. Spencer wanted nothing more than to reach out and take one of the long, loose strands of hair in his hand and feel its softness between his fingers.
However, he could see no way to be with her that night. Spencer Farrington felt he was almost sentenced to spend the evening alone; the silent watcher of the woman who might once have consented to be his wife.
Clarissa had seen Spencer the moment he had walked into the ballroom. In the preceding days, she had wondered more than once if he would, indeed, attend. A part of her had wished that he would simply refuse the invitation, whilst another, much larger, part of her had felt rather sad at the idea of not seeing him there.
However, the very moment he walked in, Clarissa felt a great lurch deep within her. She had felt it before at the buffet at Harriet’s home some weeks before. However, she had still been clinging to the last vestiges of annoyance at Spencer’s behaviour and had, more or less, been able to continue on her path of choosing not to think of the many qualities he had which had attracted her in the first place.
In the intervening weeks, however, Clarissa had found herself unable to keep her mind from drifting to thoughts of the man himself. How handsome he was with his dark ash hair and pale blue eyes and how those eyes seemed to light up when he laughed with her.
Clarissa liked the Earl of Marston well enough, but she knew in her heart that she did not feel the essential draw to him that she had felt to Spencer Farrington from the very moment they had first met. In truth, she had begun to wonder if she had not made the biggest and worst mistake of her entire life. If she had not been quite so fiery, might she have simply explained her annoyance to him and given him the opportunity to make things a little different without effectively ending their friendship? In truth, Clarissa thought it quite likely.
Surreptitiously, Clarissa watched Spencer as he made his way, completely alone, to one of the side tables and sat with an untouched plate of food. He always looked so very handsome in black, and it made his curiously ashen hair stand out beautifully. If only she could leave the company she was in and make her way across the room so that they might sit alone at a table just as they had done at Lord and Lady Borden’s ball back in winter, which now seemed so very long ago.
Of course, Clarissa nursed the secret hope that his very attendance at Lord and Lady Thompson’s ball that night rather signalled his continued interest in her. Of course, as the brother of the Duke of Calgarth, there was equally a chance that he had simply been expected to attend as an emissary in place of his absent brother, Gabriel.
“I say, Lady Kensington, you are awfully quiet.” Alistair Maher looked at her and smiled.
“I daresay I am just a little out of sorts, Sir. I beg you would forgive me my reticence this evening.” Clarissa smiled back.
“Is there anything at all that I can do to assist?”
“I rather think not, Sir, although I do thank you for asking. I think, perhaps, I might just take a few minutes alone if you would permit me?”
“Of course, if that is your wish.”
“I shall not belong, Sir.” Clarissa smiled sweetly and turned to make her way out of the ballroom.
In no time at all, she found herself in the morning room of Lord and Lady Thompson’s mansion and hurriedly made her way out through the French windows and onto the terrace.
Taking in great gulps of air, Clarissa realised just how much seeing Spencer after several weeks of absence had truly affected her.
“All alone, my dear?” Clarissa turned sharply, clearly startled by the deep and unfamiliar voice behind her.
“Yes, but I am just taking a moment here,” she said simply, not wishing to find herself in conversation when all she wanted was to be left alone for awhile.
“Well, a pretty thing like you should not be outside all alone in the dark.” There was an edge to Oscar Cunningham’s voice that Clarissa did not like. It rather gave her something of an internal shiver, and the feeling was not at all pleasant.
She had noted his attendance at the ball but had not given it much thought. In truth, Oscar Cunningham was a man that she did not know particularly well and did not care to. Although she realised that his reputation might be no more than spiteful gossip, still she had never particularly cared for the look of the man. He seemed to her always to have rather an arrogant and overly observant demeanour, both of which she found rather uncomfortable qualities in a person. They had never been properly introduced, and she had actively avoided any such introduction.
“Well, I am only here for a moment. I thank you for your concern, but please understand that I am perfectly well.”
“But I shall stay with you nonetheless,” he said, taking a step closer to her.
“I do not wish for company at the moment, Sir, and I beg you would leave me to myself.”
“I must say, I really do rather like a woman who begs, whatever the reason.” As she turned to look at his smirking face, Clarissa could hardly believe what she had just heard.
“I beg your pardon?” she said quite reflexively.
“I think you heard me.” Yet again, he took another step towards her.
Realising that she was in some little danger, and with the whispered mutterings of his previous alleged crimes ringing loudly in her head, Clarissa decided that it was time to make her way back to the ballroom. Without a word, she turned to walk back towards the open French windows. However, before she had reached them, she felt her upper arm seized quite roughly.
“I beg you would release me,” Clarissa said, dismayed by the sound of fear in her own voice.
“And there you go, my dear lady, begging again.” He chuckled, but there was nothing of merriment in it; there was nothing to like.
“In that case, I demand you release me.” Clarissa almost spat the words and pulled her arm sharply in an attempt to get away from him.
However, he gripped her all the tighter and, worse still, began to draw her towards him.
“Unhand me this instant.”
“No.”
Clarissa began to struggle wildly before finally reaching out to slap him hard on the face. Oscar Cunningham, his thick features mocking her, simply laughed and reached out to take a handful of her hair, entirely disarranging it.
“I say, Lord Cunningham!” Suddenly, Alistair Maher darted out through the French windows.
“This is none of your business, Maher, and it will be all the worse for you if you involve yourself.” Oscar continued to hold her firmly by the hair in a way which made Clarissa’s eyes water. She looked appealingly at Al
istair, fully expecting that he would secure her release at any moment. However, in no more than the passing of a few seconds, Clarissa clearly saw his indecision.
The Earl of Marston was afraid of the influence of the Duchy of Horndean and would sacrifice Clarissa to it entirely to save himself. Oh, what a fool she had been!
At the moment that she thought she would be entirely molested without assistance from anywhere, there came a great shout as yet another body raced through the open doorway.
“Release her now, Cunningham!” Both Oscar Cunningham and Alistair Maher looked entirely surprised to see Spencer Farrington suddenly appear on the terrace.
“Why are you involving yourself, Farrington? It is clear to me that this delicate creature, this exquisite little thing, has absolutely no interest in you whatsoever. She has thrown you over, my dear chap, for young Alistair here.” Oscar began to laugh, and Clarissa struggled all the more wildly.
“And that is no reason for me to let you hurt her, Cunningham. And you shall not hurt her.” In the blink of an eye, Spencer had covered the ground between himself and Oscar Cunningham and had punched him firmly in the face.
He had clearly taken Lord Cunningham by surprise, and the man immediately released his grip on Clarissa who ran backward for several steps to get away from him.
As Oscar turned to land a punch of his own, Spencer ducked expertly before delivering another, yet more powerful, blow that sent his adversary backward to land hard upon the flagstones of the terrace.
“Stay down,” Spencer’s voice was a hoarse growl. “I am warning you, Cunningham.”
Blinking back tears of shock and humiliation, Clarissa watched open-mouthed as Oscar Cunningham clearly considered rising to his feet and retaliating. However, just as she had seen capitulation in the eyes of Alistair Maher, she saw it also in the eyes of Oscar Cunningham and felt a tremendous sense of relief.
“My dear Lady Kensington, are you quite alright?” The Earl of Marston raced to be at her side.
However, the moment he reached her, Clarissa held out both arms and shoved him hard away.
“You do not need to attend to my welfare. You do not need to attend me ever again. Once again, I see you leave your chivalry at the door. This time, however, the move was not a welcome one.” And with that, Clarissa hurriedly ran in through the French doors.
Not truly knowing what to do next, Clarissa ran at speed up the great stairway of Lord and Lady Thompson’s mansion. She did not want to encounter another person whilst her gown sat disarranged upon her shoulders and her hair had broken free from its moorings. It would be clear to all that something of a rather untoward and humiliating nature had taken place, and Clarissa simply could not bear it.
Not far from the top of the stairs, Clarissa hurriedly located a guest bedroom and opened the door. Peering in and realising that it was unused, she hurried inside. Standing in the middle of the room with her back to the door, Clarissa took in great steadying breaths and hurriedly tried to fix her hair.
“Do not worry about your hair, Clarissa. Just sit down fror a moment.” Initially startled, Clarissa immediately calmed down when she saw that Spencer Farrington had followed her into the guest bedroom.
Gently closing the door behind him, he hurried across the room to her and held his arms open. Gratefully, Clarissa threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging to him hard.
“You really must sit down. You have had a most terrible shock.”
“I do not want to sit down, Spencer. I do not want to let go.”
“I will sit with you.” Still holding her, Spencer walked her backward and gently pushed her down to sit on the bed. However, Clarissa did not release him. She simply held tightly to his neck and pulled him in towards her.
Finally, Spencer gave in; he knelt before her and took her face in both of his hands, drawing her towards him that he might kiss her. When he found no resistance to his kiss, he kissed her deeper still, ever more urgently.
“Spencer, I have missed you terribly. Can you ever forgive me?”
“It is I who needs forgiveness, my dear Clarissa, not you. If I had not behaved so badly, then we would not have been parted, and you could never have been subjected to the dreadful treatment you have just received. I hold myself entirely accountable.” “The only person who is accountable for the treatment I have just received is Oscar Cunningham. You spared me a most horrible attack, Spencer, and I shall never forget it.”
Clarissa stared deeply into his pale blue eyes and, as he leaned in towards her again, she anticipated his next kisses with great excitement.
Finally, Spencer raised himself up from his knees and gently pushed Clarissa backward onto the bed until she was lying down on it. He lowered himself down on top of her and began to kiss her again with fevered excitement.
Clarissa had never felt so great an excitement in all her life, and she gripped his waist hard, pulling his body in towards hers.
“I need you, Spencer,” Clarissa said breathlessly and hoped that he would entirely perceive her meaning. “And I need you.” He said as he began to push up the many layers of her beautiful ivory gown. “By God, I need you.”
Epilogue
“So, how do your first few days of married life treat you, brother?” Spencer found himself sitting in Gabriel’s study once more and gratefully accepted the rather full brandy glass that his brother handed him.
“It suits me very well indeed,” Spencer said with a smile. “In truth, I had begun to think I would never see the day when I would be married to dear Clarissa. I have much to be thankful for.”
“And perhaps you would prefer to heed my own wife’s advice with regards to our feud? As each and every one of us becomes married, I begin to wonder if we really are serving dear Aunt Verity any true purpose whatsoever. Perhaps our dear mother is right, and it is time that we simply live our lives and say goodbye to it all, copper mine be damned.” Gabriel spoke softly and rather sadly, and it gave Spencer the most curious feeling.
“You cannot mean that, Gabriel.” In spite of everything that had happened, Spencer found sudden fire in his belly.
“You nearly lost Clarissa over it all and only gained her at the very last moment. Perhaps I ask too much of you all? Perhaps this thing ought really to have died with father.”
“Absolutely not,” Spencer spoke with a vehemence he had never heard fly from his own lips before. “Oscar Cunningham was but minutes away from violating the only woman I will ever love. There is no way on God’s earth that I intend to let things rest. More than ever, I am intent on their destruction, and I am yours to the letter, brother.”
“And what about Clarissa?”
“I shall take very good care to pay full attention to Clarissa, and never once shall I be complacent in that regard. But there is time enough in my world to make room for this thing which has now become more important to me than ever it was before.”
“And so, what do you think our next move should be?” Gabriel said, smiling slowly and clearly impressed.
“I think we should get the materials as soon as possible and sink that mine.”
“Then that is what we shall do.”
The Descendants and a Time of Hope
Book 5
Introduction
When Lady Cordelia Cunningham jumps from her horse and twists her ankle, little did she realise she would be rescued by the man who should have been her enemy.
Raised in a household of anger and spite, Cordelia Cunningham, the youngest of the Duke of Horndean’s children, cannot bear a life led purely for revenge. She is young, romantic, and greatly interested in the world around her.
Philip Cunningham, unable to rid his mind of the vision of beauty he helped to her feet down by the stream, finds his loyalties suddenly divided.
He finds the vengeful behaviour of his own family as bleak and confusing as Cordelia herself finds it. In the end, the two become friends; secret allies in the war that has raged for so long.
When Cordelia’s father, the old Duke of Horndean, looks set to finally leave this life, he charges his youngest child with the solemn task of ending the feud and releasing the Duchies of Horndean and Calgarth from promises made on a foundation of lies.
When he tells her of his long-hidden diaries, will Cordelia have the strength and determination to find the truth and put an end to years of suffering? And will her actions lead her to, or away from, the only man she has ever loved?
Chapter One
Lady Cordelia Cunningham simply loved the summer months. Particularly, she liked the early mornings when the sun was out in the bright blue sky, but it was not yet warm enough to entice everybody else into the outside world.
In truth, Cordelia rather felt she had the whole world to herself on such mornings, setting off as she often did before it was quite seven o’clock. Course, she routinely got away with the thing purely and simply because the remainder of her family seemed to rise rather slowly, stretching the serving of breakfast out from anywhere between eight o’clock and very nearly midday. And her father seemed to be rising later and later these last weeks, suffering as he was from some sort of dreadful cough. If she was honest, Cordelia had found her patience rather running out with the sound of it but would never have dared to say it out loud. It was, after all, Horndean Hall, and her father, the Duke of Horndean, was at liberty to cough for as long and as loudly as he chose.
And, the later he rose in the day, the more disagreeable he was. In truth, her entire family were rather sullen in the morning and generally were ready to air their grievances by the time breakfast was served to them.
Cordelia thought it little wonder that the household staff seemed to be almost permanently exasperated in the Cunningham household. In truth, she rather thought that she would feel the same in their position.
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