by Robyn DeHart
Justin slammed his fist into George’s face, then nailed him in the stomach. George doubled-over in pain.
“You should consider boxing, Rodale,” George said.
“I’ll say it again. Get the hell out of my house,” Justin said, his tone even, but deadly.
George wiped blood off his lip, then spit a mouthful onto Justin’s imported rug. “You can have her.”
…
The moment George left the study, Clarissa’s tears started. Justin gathered her in his arms.
“It’s all right now, love, I’m here.” He kissed her forehead, smoothed his hand over her hair. When he’d come in the room and seen George on her, he’d nearly lost his mind. He’d wanted to rip the bastard’s head off. “I should have killed him.”
She gave him a weak laugh. “That wouldn’t have solved anything. I certainly don’t need you in prison.”
“Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up,” he said.
…
Clarissa woke with a start. The room was still dark and Justin’s heavy sleeping form lay next to her, his breathing even. Her heart pounded. He’d taken her to her room the night before, helped her into her night clothes, then he had crawled into bed with her. He hadn’t made love to her, merely rubbed her back gently until she’d fallen asleep. And he had stayed in the bed with her.
Her heart swelled knowing what she must do.
She slid from the bed and stood silently watching him for a moment. He would not understand, no one would, but still it was something she needed to do. She’d waited too long and now it was time to go.
…
Justin stretched, and reached over to pull his wife close to him, but the side she’d slept on was empty. Cold and empty. She’d been gone a while. He sat up. Once he’d pulled on some trousers, he walked through the bathing chamber and then on to his room, but there was no sign of her in either place.
He ignored the choking feeling squeezing at him. Her maid, Mary, hadn’t seen her, so she’d evidently dressed on her own. She was not in the dining room and no one in the kitchen had seen her. George Wilbanks had gotten into their house the night before without any of the servants being the wiser, what if he’d come back and taken her?
“Mr. Rodale, sir, I’m afraid your wife has left. She hired a hack early this morning,” the butler said.
“Why they hell did you let her go?” But Justin didn’t wait for a response. He ran up the stairs and finished getting dressed, before returning and yelling for a carriage. In less than twenty minutes he was on the road to the Kincaid townhome. Clarissa was impetuous and…what if she had decided that marriage to him was simply not enough?
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Women in his life didn’t tend to stick around for very long. He’d already sent a letter to Simone Gauteir, but had yet to hear anything. His mother had left him a long time ago and nothing could be done about that, but he’d be damned if he’d let his wife leave.
He pounded on the front door of the townhome and was greeted by a smiling Vivian. Any other time he’d have asked why she was answering the door herself, but now was not the time.
“Justin?” she said in surprise.
“Is Clarissa here?”
She frowned. “No. Justin, what’s happened?”
“No time.” He turned and left and jumped back into the carriage and gave the driver Ella’s address. The ride there seemed to take an eternity and he was beginning to think he could have run faster when the carriage rolled to a stop.
Again he knocked on the door. When the butler opened it, he demanded an audience with Lady Ella and the man didn’t even blink, merely nodded and invited Justin inside.
Ella was evidently already waiting for him. She smiled when he stepped into the room.
“Where is she?”
“She went to Ashford Hall,” Ella answered without reservation. “She stopped by here early this morning, very upset. I made her take one of our carriages so she was with a trusted driver.”
He shook his head. She had left him. They hadn’t even been married a full month and she had left.
“Everyone she has ever loved has left her,” Ella said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Clarissa. Everyone she’s ever loved, they’ve all died or walked away,” Ella said.
“I’m not the one that left.”
Ella held up one hand. “Be patient with her, Mr. Rodale. She is frightened.”
“If she thinks I’m going to let her go without a fight.” He shook his head. “She is my wife.”
Ella nodded, then gave him a big smile. “Then go. Go get her.”
…
Clarissa walked quietly through the gardens of Ashford Hall. She caught sight of the large oak up ahead. Its sprawling limbs arched out and swooped down creating an umbrella to the grounds beneath it. When she’d awakened that morning she’d known precisely what she had to do.
Nearly her entire life she had tried to be someone she simply could not be. Someone she didn’t even want to be. She’d never be the perfect lady like Rebecca. Not for lack of trying, but she’d only ended up compromised and married to a most unexpected man.
The grave markers lined up in short rows.
She found the one she sought and knelt to the ground. She was quiet for a moment before she began to speak.
“Oh, Rebecca, I fear you would believe I have made such a mess of things. Though I tried very hard I was unable to marry the man you’d selected for me.” She took a deep breath. “But had you seen the truth of George’s character, you never would have selected him. He is not a nice man at all. Oh, he certainly knows how to behave as such, when the situation demands it, but underneath all that charm, he is quite horrid.” She exhaled slowly. “I know you never cared for Justin, you always thought he was so fussy.” Clarissa chuckled. “I think you would feel differently about him now. He’s grown into a wonderful man. And heaven’s above he is so handsome.
“I expected that simply because George had been born of noble blood that that somehow made him a true gentleman. Consequently, I expected the very opposite of Justin simply because he’d been born out of wedlock.” She sighed and smiled. “But Justin Rodale is more of a gentleman than another other man I know. He is so noble and honorable.
“I think you would see how he’s changed. I think you would like him, I hope you would. But it wasn’t just George you were wrong about, Rebecca, it was me.” Clarissa shook her head. “I’ve tried so hard, all these years, to be a lady like you taught me. To be genteel and proper and polite. But I’m none of those things. I’m smart and I’m good with numbers. After Charles died I fired our solicitor and managed the family money by myself. And I did a good job. I’ve even continued in the charade and helped a dear friend with her family’s financial situation.
I’ve hid in darkened corners of a museum and allowed a man to steal a kiss. And I enjoyed it, felt exuberant and alive.” She found herself smiling now as happiness surged through her. “I broke into a hotel, Rebecca! Oh how scandalized you would have been, but I loved every adventurous moment of it.”
She paused a moment, ran her hand over Rebecca’s carved name. “I don’t know that I’ll ever have that love that you and Charles had as I don’t know if Justin will ever love me in return. But there is something in Justin’s eyes, just as you said there would be when I found the right man. I’ve seen it. If I’m completely honest with myself it’s been there in his eyes the whole time.”
How had she missed that? She’d been so consumed with trying to marry George that she’d missed the man standing in front of her. If she wasn’t so damned relieved by the way things had worked out, she’d feel an utter fool. Somehow she’d made all the wrong choices, but ended up in the most perfect situation.
“I do wish you were still here, Rebecca to know me as I truly am and to know my husband. But I no longer feel like I need to live my life as you would have wanted me. I no longer feel as if your standards are the only standards. I’
d like to hope that you would love me and would accept him, but even if you didn’t I’d still choose him.”
She was quiet a moment while she stared at the carving of Rebecca’s name until the letters blurred. “I believe I love him,” she said.
“He loves you too,” a voice said from behind her.
Clarissa stood and turned to see Justin standing there with a hand-pulled bunch of pansies in his fist. Tears filled her eyes. “Rebecca loved pansies, they were her favorite.”
“I know. I remember you told me that once.” He closed the distance between them and placed the flowers on Rebecca’s grave.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.” He took a deep breath. “I came here ready to fight for you, ready to make you come home with me if I had to. I thought you’d left me.”
The tears fell, chilling her cheeks. “Never. No matter what, I’d never leave you.” She smiled up at him. “You were going to make me come home with you?”
“If I had to.”
“I can’t believe you thought I’d left.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t know how you were feeling since last night. Since George—are you certain you don’t want me to kill him?”
She laughed. “Of course not. Though you could have hit him a few more times.”
“I’ve banned him from Rodale’s. He will no longer be using our gaming hell as his cover,” Justin said.
“You did?” She looked up at him, his intense amber eyes, the handsome chiseled jaw. Her husband. “Did you mean what you said?”
“About?”
“Do you truly love me?”
“Yes.” He pulled her to him, squeezing her tight. “I love you, Chrissy. Or do you prefer Clarissa?”
“No, I’ve grown quite fond of Chrissy. But only with you.”
“Yes, only with me. Forever only with me.”
Epilogue
Clarissa ran up the stairs of Rodale’s as quickly as her skirts would allow her. If Justin would simply agree to purchase her some trousers, this would be so much easier. She clutched her reticule to her chest and she reached the top and opened the outer offices.
Clipps looked up from his new desk and smiled. “Morning Mrs. R.”
“Morning, Basil. Can’t talk, have an important letter for Justin,” she said. She breezed through into the larger office, the office she now shared with her husband.
“My love, I told you I would be home by dinner.” He grinned sinfully at her. “Couldn’t wait to see me?”
She retrieved the envelope from her reticule. “This came in the post.” She handed it to him.
He looked down and then back up to her. “It’s from Paris.”
She nodded. “Read it!”
He opened it and stood there quietly for several moments. Then he looked up at her. “It’s her,” he said with a smile.
Clarissa smiled and then threw her arms around her husband. “I knew we’d find her. What does she say?”
“That she would love to come to London and meet me. She has other children. It would seem I have two sisters.”
“Oh, Justin, I love you so much,” she said. Her heart swelled so much she feared it would burst.
“I couldn’t have done this without you. I never would have looked in the right place.” He glanced back at the letter. “She seems quite happy I found her.”
“I’m certain she is. She’ll love you. It’s simply impossible not to.”
About the Author
As a life-long lover of stories and adventure, it was either become a stuntwoman for the movies or live out those adventures from the safety of her PJ’s and computer. Award-winning author, Robyn DeHart chose the latter and couldn’t be happier for doing so. Known for her unique plotlines and authentic characters, Robyn is a favorite among readers and reviewers. Publishers’ Weekly claims her writing to be “comical and sexy” while the Chicago Tribune dubs her “wonderfully entertaining.” Robyn is also a four-time RT Bookclub Reviewers’ Choice award nominee, and a three-time RomCon Reader’s Crown nominee. Look for two new series coming from Robyn in 2013. Robyn lives in Texas with her brainy husband, two precocious little girls, and two spoiled cats. You can find Robyn online at her website or at one of her group blogs, the Jaunty Quills or Peanut Butter on the Keyboard.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
About the Author
