Luc, busy attending to Clarissa, barely heard his whining explanation. Clarissa was breathing, thank the Lord, and that was all that mattered. Her head wound didn’t appear to be as serious as he’d first feared, and as his powers of reasoning returned, he recalled that heads wounds were notorious for bleeding profusely. He managed to staunch the flow of blood, his mind all the while considering what to do next. Should he risk moving Clarissa? And what of the three men who had perpetrated this act of savagery? He should have permitted Simms to send for the Runners after all.
Luc was uncharacteristically indecisive when Felix, with a sobbing Rosie cradled in his arms, touched his shoulder.
“I think we should bind the hands of these three and lock them in the storeroom here,” he said. “We can have the Runners here to take them in charge in no time, but in the meantime I think we should get Clarissa and Rosie home to Grosvenor Square. It’s urgent, Luc,” he said when Luc showed no signs of hearing him. “We must get them home, safe.” The pressure of Felix’s hand on his shoulder increased. Luc belatedly came to his senses.
“You’re right, of course,” he said.
Luc was then all action. Having bound the fugitives, Luc draped his coat around Clarissa and carried her to his waiting curricle. Felix locked the storeroom door and joined him in the conveyance, Rosie still in his arms.
His mother, along with Agnes and Simms, were waiting in the drawing room for news, all disparity in rank forgotten at this time of crisis. Both women exclaimed in horror as they observed Luc’s grim face and Clarissa’s seemingly lifeless body clutched in his arms. But then Agnes took control. A bed of sorts was made up for Clarissa on a couch, close to the fire in the drawing room, the countess having decreed it would be warmer there as the fire would not yet be alight in her chamber. A footman was despatched to summon the apothecary. Upon examining his patient, the medical man proclaimed that Clarissa, apart from the nasty cut just above her hairline and a severe concussion, didn’t appear to have suffered any permanent damage.
Their shared relief was palpable. Luc concentrated his efforts on shutting out the abject agonies of self-recrimination which continued to plague him. He watched as part of Clarissa’s beautiful hair was cut away so that her wound could be properly cleaned and dressed. One small tress was of no consequence when measured against the fact that his future wife was alive, safe from harm, and recovering her senses.
“What do you remember, sweetheart?” Luc asked her.
“Well…” She frowned. “The last clear memory I have is of Salik losing his temper and grabbing hold of me.”
Luc’s jaw tightened into a rigid line as he too recalled the incident and the feeling of complete impotence that had enveloped him. He slid a protective arm around Clarissa’s shoulders.
“Yes, he tried to force you to your knees, and I was powerless to do anything about it.” Luc clenched and unclenched the hand that rested on her shoulder. He stopped speaking and stared off into the distance, fighting an inner battle to bring his turbulent emotions under control. “But Rosie felt no such reservations,” Luc said, finding his voice again. “She broke away from Granger and ran at Salik, screaming her head off, surprising and distracting everyone.”
“Of course! I remember that now. But what happened afterwards?”
“Well, that gave me the opportunity to deal with Salik,” he said with great satisfaction. “If you have a headache, I can assure you that it’s nothing compared with the way he’s now feeling.”
“Good!” Clarissa spoke the one word with considerable satisfaction.
“Yes. But, unfortunately, when Rosie ran toward Salik he pushed you out of the way. Your head hit the side of Twining’s desk, which knocked you out.” Luc dropped his own head. “I thought he’d killed you, Clarissa,” he said bleakly.
“Humph, it would take more than the likes of him to do away with me,” snorted Clarissa. “But how brave of Rosie! What made her do it, I wonder?”
Luc hesitated. “That’s partly why I sent her from the room. You see, Clarissa, we have no clear idea what she endured before coming to the orphanage, but when she arrived she had considerable scarring to both wrists. We think the innkeeper, with whom she lived, punished any misbehaviour on her part by chaining her to a wall.”
Clarissa’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh dear God, the poor mite!”
“Yes, we’d been wondering how much she remembered about her previous life, as she’s never once referred to it. Now we know. You see, m’dear, Salik grabbed you by your wrist too as he tried to force you down. It must have struck a chord with her. You know how much she admires you; she simply acted with the instincts of a child. You represent security in her eyes, and she wanted to protect you.”
“And possibly saved our lives into the bargain.” There were tears in Clarissa’s eyes. “What incredible bravery!”
“What I don’t understand, Luc,” Felix said, “is how they knew of your connection with Rosie in the first place.”
“Salik said something before you arrived about having followed us there on a couple of occasions,” Clarissa said. “You’ll recall, Luc, that whenever we arrived, all the children were pleased to see us, but it was always Rosie who ran to us first.”
“Yes, that’s true enough.”
“I have a question too,” Clarissa said into the silence that had fallen. “Who gave them prior notice of your discoveries in Portsmouth? Surely, no one else knew of them?”
“I can answer than one as well.” Luc clenched his jaw. “I recognised the paper when Salik held up the letter he’d received. I’ve received several on that distinctive stationery myself.” He looked away from Clarissa, hating to lose her respect. “It was Emily Stokes.”
“Surely not,” Clarissa and his mother said together. Felix said nothing but his face drained of all colour.
“I’m afraid so. I think when she was here on Friday and saw the three of us talking so animatedly, she finally realised that she was never going to achieve her objectives with me,” Luc said with brutal frankness. “I should have waited to tell you our news until after she’d left, Clarissa.”
“Please don’t blame yourself.” She touched his hand. “You couldn’t have anticipated her actions. Besides, I was too anxious to know what you’d discovered to allow you to keep silent.”
“Maybe.” He smiled at her. “I was keen to put your mind at rest and so pleased with our discoveries that for once I dispensed with caution.”
“But how did she know so much?” Clarissa asked.
“Don’t you remember? She was eavesdropping quite blatantly. She must have gathered at least something of what we were saying. She certainly knew we’d been to Portsmouth. Did she question you about it when she gave you a lift home, Felix?”
“Well, yes, and I’m sorry to say that I told her one or two general things. I was simply making conversation, trying to mend bridges,” he said apologetically. “I didn’t see any harm in it.”
“No harm at all,” agreed Luc.
“She asked me who the mysterious Mr. Twining was that she’d heard us discussing. I told her he was Clarissa’s man of business, attending to her estate. That seemed to settle her curiosity, and we then spoke of other matters.”
“That would have been enough,” observed Luc. “It would be the work of a moment to have one of her servants find his direction; his profession would naturally place him in Lincoln’s Inn. That made it simple for her to carry out her spiteful act of revenge.”
Felix appeared devastated, but Clarissa, ever intuitive, smiled and took the opportunity to thank him for the part he’d played in effecting their rescue.
“Was it not very risky for that maid to call at the house so blatantly?” Luc’s mother asked. “I mean, Luc went dashing off after Fielding called to say Rosie was missing. How could the maid be sure that the same servant wouldn’t open the door to her and immediately smell a rat?”
“They’d been watching the house, Mother. They knew that Bentley
attends church every Sunday morning, took that into account, and timed their activities with military-like precision.”
“How horrible!” cried the countess with a shudder.
“I suspect the maid was just some floozy Salik came across during his time here. Someone desperate enough to earn a few pennies and canny enough to run at the first sign of trouble. She certainly disappeared with ease once Clarissa entered that carriage.”
“But you’ve not told me how you came to find me at Twining’s office,” Clarissa said, encompassing both Luc and Felix with her eyes as she spoke.
Luc explained Simms’s role in that respect and the deductions they’d made as a result.
“I’m so sorry, Simms, to have dashed off like that. I can see now that I should, at least, have appraised you of my intentions.”
“It might have been a wiser course of action, my lady,” Simms said with a slight bow and the suggestion of a rare smile.
“Anyway, once I got there and realised what peril Rosie and I were in, I decided that you would definitely find us sooner or later and that the only thing I could do in the meantime was to procrastinate.” She went on to make the gentlemen laugh by telling them how she’d forced Salik to serve them with tea and then made polite conversation. “It struck me, you see, on that occasion when he came here, just how badly he wants to be accepted into society. I played on that weakness.”
Luc shook his head in a mixture of wonder and admiration. “You’re impossible!”
“And she should rest properly now as well,” his mother said. “She’s been though a great deal, the poor lamb.”
“Of course she should.”
And before Clarissa could object Luc swept her effortlessly into his arms and carried her up to her chamber, where he reluctantly left her to the tender ministrations of Agnes.
He put his head round the door again during the middle of the evening to be greeted by a scene of orderly domesticity. Clarissa was fast asleep, her breathing sound and even. And so was Rosie, curled tightly against Clarissa’s side, her small head resting on the same pillow as Clarissa’s, their hair entwined. Mulligan was stretched out in front of the fire, large head resting on his equally large paws, eyes half closed. Agnes sat in a chair by the fire, sewing in her lap.
“As you can see, my lord, all is well.”
“Indeed.” Luc felt ridiculously disappointed that Clarissa was obviously so soundly asleep. He’d so much wanted to spend just half an hour talking with her, holding her hand and reassuring himself that she really would make a full recovery.
“It would be as well to leave her be, my lord,” Agnes said. “Sleep is the best restorative.”
“Yes, of course. But has she eaten?”
“Heartily!”
“How does Rosie come to be in this room?”
“Well, I couldn’t get her to settle in the nursery alone. After all, the poor mite’s never slept anywhere alone before, and certainly not in an enormous room such as that. She wouldn’t close her eyes unless I remained with her, and obviously I needed to be here for her ladyship.” Agnes lifted her shoulders. “This seemed to be the ideal solution.”
“And you were quite right.” Luc called to Mulligan. “Come now,” he said, “let’s leave these ladies to their rest.”
Mulligan rose from his warm fireside position with evident reluctance and trotted toward his master. Luc’s throaty chuckle filled the room, even though the door was already half closed behind him.
“So I’ve lost you to her as well have I, old boy?” he said.
Agnes gave a satisfied smile, sniffing to clear eyes suddenly moist with tears.
Chapter Twenty-One
Clarissa was assured by the doctor the following morning that her concussion was fast receding and that her wound was not infected and would heal in due time. Only then did Agnes relax her vigilance and permit her patient to leave her bed for a few hours.
She headed straight for the library. Well-rested and with a clear head she was no longer prepared to delay the long overdue conversation. She had decided that if he still wished to marry, her then Luc must give her better reasons for his aspirations than she’d thus far heard. He must also tell her, without any prompting, that he truly loved her. Just as importantly, he must promise to remain faithful only to her. If he could convince her of his sincerity in both those regards, then she would willingly accept him.
Squaring her shoulders, she tapped on the library door, feeling resolute and purposeful, and yet also ridiculously nervous. If he was unable to give her the answers she sought, then she was determined to make good her plan to return home immediately and banish from her mind for ever any thoughts of what might have been.
As she entered the library she was encouraged by the extent of his delight to see her. It lifted her spirits and strengthened her resolve.
“Clarissa, should you be out of bed yet?” His concern for her welfare was all too obvious as he stepped across the room to greet her. Taking her hand, he led her to the chaise in front of the fire. “Now, sit down and tell me, what did the doctor have to say?”
“Oh, Luc, do stop fussing so! He’s given me permission to get up for a few hours. Had it not been so I would never have managed to get past Agnes, I can assure you of that.”
Luc smiled that infuriatingly intimate smile of his. “Yes, that I can believe. But how do you feel?”
“Better, thank you, and well-rested. But, Luc, we need to talk.”
“We do indeed, sweetheart, but surely it must wait until you are fully recovered?”
“No, Luc,” she said with renewed determination. “Now.”
“Oh dear, this sounds serious. Are you sure you are well enough?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my mind,” she said irascibly.
“Evidently not.” Luc held up his hands and grinned, but Clarissa was in no mood to fall victim to his seductive charm and didn’t return his smile.
“Luc, you asked me to marry you. Why?”
“Why?” He appeared confused by her question.
“Yes, why?”
“Well, for the reasons that I’ve already given you. My admiration for you…and my respect.” He reached for her, clearly preferring to demonstrate his feelings through his actions, but she put up her hands to ward him off.
“No, Luc, I need to hear your reasons.”
If he touched her, she would relent; she just knew it. If she met his penetrating gaze, if she allowed herself to be drawn in by his mesmerising eyes, she’d be deaf to the voice of reason. She concentrated in apparent fascination upon the rug, waiting for his response. Stillness suffused the moment, but Clarissa refused to break the silence. She was determined that the next move should be his.
Seeming to realise it, Luc finally spoke. “I want you to be the mother of my children,” he said, simply.
“And so you want to marry me just to beget an heir?” She was not quite convincing in her disapproval. The image of them creating that heir was too strong for that.
“Of course not, Clarissa; what a thing to suggest. Surely you understand — ”
An untimely knock at the door cut him off in mid-flow. Exasperated, Luc bade his caller enter. Simms stepped into the room, looked surprised to see Clarissa there and, with an apologetic smile, enquired as to her health.
“I’m much recovered, thank you, Simms.”
“That’s excellent news, my lady.”
“What is it, Simms?” Luc asked.
“Your pardon for the intrusion, my lord, but this letter was just delivered by express from Newbury. I thought it might be of some importance.”
“Thank you, Simms.”
Clarissa watched Luc as he opened his letter and scanned its contents. As he did so his whole demeanour changed. His jaw set in an angry line, something locked in the stern planes of his face and his expression became increasingly sombre as he continued to read.
“Start packing, Simms, we leave for Newbury immediately.”
“
Very good, my lord.”
Simms left the room, not the slightest bit ruffled by this unexpected departure in their routine.
“Your pardon, Clarissa.” Luc’s severe expression turned into a meltingly gentle look of regret as he looked into her face. “We must postpone this discussion until my return. I shall not be gone above a week, but this business can’t be delayed, and there’s no time for us to talk properly now.”
He pulled her to her feet and into his arms, closing them carefully about her, clearly mindful of her delicate condition. His full, sensual mouth descended on hers, and he kissed her so gently, but with such controlled passion, that it sent a dizzying sensation of desire spiralling through her entire body, scattering her already turbulent emotions into even great disarray.
“You should return to your chamber and rest,” he told her as he ended the kiss. “Oh, damn this business, why now?”
With an exasperated sigh he bent to kiss her one last time.
Clarissa left him and followed his advice. Even this short interview had tired her. When she awoke several hours later, she didn’t need to be told that Luc had already departed the house. She felt strangely vulnerable and alone somehow but told herself she was being ridiculous. But there was no escaping the fact that the house seemed eerily quiet without his energetic presence, the lack of which it was obviously impossible for her to detect from within the confines of her own chamber.
In an attempt to seek a diversion, Clarissa entered Luc’s library in search of something to read. The room still bore signs of both his occupation of it and of his hurried departure. Papers had not yet been tidied away and the letter he had received, causing him such consternation and precipitating his abrupt flight to Newbury, still lay on his desk. Overcome with curiosity Clarissa couldn’t resist peeping at its contents. And immediately wished she hadn’t done so.
Lady Hartley's Inheritance Page 22
