Clarissa: Historical Romance (Chronicles of the Hudson River Valley Book 1)

by Jean Jacobsen

  Abigail continued, “You will be residing in the Carriage House which you passed upon entering the Estate. I’m having it readied for you as we speak. It has an adequate kitchen should you choose to prepare a light meal. Otherwise, you may take your meals here with my granddaughter and me.”

  “That is most generous, to be sure,” offered Nicholas although he felt there was more to come.

  “In exchange, I require you to give refresher dance lessons to Clarissa, my granddaughter. I intend to present her to New York society this coming season. I hope you will find the ballroom on the second floor to your liking.”

  Ugh. What had his father gotten him into? Dance lessons so her granddaughter could be presented this season, hardly what he had in mind. When would he have time to search for his brother?

  The tea tray arrived the likes of which Nicholas hadn’t seen in a long time. The scent reminded him of his mother’s afternoon teas and happier times.

  Now, if it only tasted half as good as it smelled, my stomach would be satisfied at least.

  Of Course, Nicholas had attended functions at his father’s residence where he served as Ambassador to France. After joining the artists’ colony, his trips to the city had become less frequent. He found the country air more appealing than the heavy smog laden air of the city. He had thrived and found he had a real talent for capturing the scenic beauty around him. He was especially good at capturing the way the light played on the landscape. With that said, the city still called to him from time to time for the beautiful women and fine wine not so readily available at the colony.

  The sound of Abigail’s voice brought him back to the salon.

  “Now Nicholas, I believe it is time for you to meet my granddaughter. You should know that she suffered a minor riding accident a few years back and her right hip has never been quite the same. As a result, she feels awkward and while she tries hard to walk as normally as possible, her gait has changed forever.”

  Nicholas knew how to waltz and perform other dances of the day. How was he going to teach this young lady to dance who seemed to be lame? What was she all about?

  His challenge was to fit the lessons into a schedule of painting and dodging the strong arms that were looking for his brother and perhaps himself. One good thing about being here, it was far away from the temptation of wine, women, and cards. The bottom of the Hudson River wasn’t sounding quite so bad at the moment.

  ~~~

  The uneven report of her riding boots sounding on the marble floor suddenly reminded Clarissa to remove them. She quickly returned to the mudroom at the kitchen garden entrance, removed her boots, and proceeded in her stocking feet to the East Salon, pausing on the threshold to survey the disaster she knew was waiting for her.

  Grandmother Abigail was seated near the fire holding conversation with a man Clarissa presumed to be her new dance tutor. Of course, she’d received basic dance instruction at Miss Penelope Clegg’s Finishing School for Young Ladies, which she’d attended. She had not attended the many balls held each season as she had not had her debut. Clarissa was rather clumsy on the dance floor, unlike her performance on the back of a horse. If only her whole life could be carried out in the fields and the stables. She had no choice, she’d promised her grandmother, and even though she’d racked her brain, she’d been unable to think of another way to make up for the shortfall of money from the auction. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and moved in front of her grandmother.

  “Clarissa, how nice you could join us. May I present Mr. Nicholas Granger? He will be staying in the Carriage House for a while and has agreed to give you some refresher instructions in dancing.”

  Nicholas acknowledged Clarissa with a slight bow, “Miss Tanner, a pleasure to meet you.”

  Clarissa gave Nicholas a curt nod and refocused on her grandmother. “Gran you could have given me a little notice. I’ve just returned from a ride and am not properly dressed to entertain the company.”

  “Yes, yes, I know dear. You can change clothes later. Kindly give us a few minutes so Mr. Granger can suggest a schedule for your dance lessons.” Clarissa met Nicholas’ brown eyes with alarm. “I will leave you two to arrange a schedule and get better acquainted. Clarissa dear, please join me for dinner this evening. Mr. Granger, the Carriage House will be ready momentarily. I’ll expect you for dinner as well. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to the weekly menus with Cook.”

  Nicholas watched as Clarissa gave her grandmother the evil eye “How… very kind of you Abigail-you’ve thought of everything,” said Nicholas.

  “Thank you, Nicholas. Dinner will be served at seven sharp.”

  Abigail steadied herself with her cane before exiting the salon. Nicholas and Clarissa stood until Abigail had cleared the threshold and the door closed.

  “You?” said Nicholas. “You were the one crawling about the shrubbery near the stables. I was told you were a housemaid.”

  “You,” replied Clarissa. “What were you doing sneaking around the stables?” She had been a mess with her hair in disarray and dressed in her work clothes to take a ride. What a despicable man for spying on her when she was in a state like that and had not announced himself, or for that matter offer to help her pull the kittens out.

  “I beg your pardon. I was not sneaking. I was approaching the stables to let off my horse, as there seemed to be no footman about to greet me. What did I see but a derriere provocatively perched in my pathway.” He grinned and folded his arms across his chest, almost laughing.

  Clarissa snapped back with a tilt of her chin and that straight-on look she used to disarm young gentlemen, not of her company. “Our staff is low at this time.”

  He seemed to be enjoying himself as he stood with his feet apart, shoulder width and arms crossed. They were about the same height, but he appeared to be looking down at her.

  “I…I was rescuing some newborn kittens and needed to get them to the stables for safety.”

  “And so, you completed your task?” He looked her up and down trying to see past her appearance.

  “Yes of course.” He wasn’t bad looking now that she took a few moments to see him close up, but ugh that snobby attitude. How could Gran have hired such a…a…man? Dance lessons would be hard enough, especially since she deemed them unnecessary.

  “Your grandmother tells me you are preparing for your society debut this coming season. We’ll need to work quickly on your dance skills. I presume you do have some experience with dancing?”

  Clarissa bristled at this remark. “Of course, I do. I attended Miss Penelope Clegg’s Finishing School for Young Ladies where we were taught the proper ways of society.”

  “Well, yes, of course, you have had some instruction,” Nicholas sounded polite. He was probably laughing inside. Had Grand told him about her accident?

  “Do you know how to waltz?”

  Her back and right leg stiffened even more than before. “I have seen the dance performed but have not participated in it. I much prefer the reels and quadrilles.”

  “I had no idea I would be required to give dance lessons in exchange for my room and board.”

  He was already scoffing at her. Where had Gran found such a heathen? Clarissa all but told him he could certainly just go, but he opened his big mouth again before she could get a word in edgewise.

  “I’ll need time for painting and I’m here in search of my brother who has recently disappeared which will require me to travel on a moment’s notice. You must be flexible to accommodate my needs.”

  Painting? Was he a laborer or an artist?

  This brought Clarissa to her feet. “If you are a laborer sent here to paint the stables and fences, I’m sure I can do better than you for an instructor. What do you mean by YOUR needs? I have an agenda of my own. You will simply need to work around my schedule.”

  Ha, that ought to put him in his place. What did he mean about his brother had gone missing?

  Although the auction was over, she still kept a
regimen with the remaining horses and her studs would be servicing mares any day now. Accurate records were needed to keep the bloodlines intact. Marriage plans and debuts or not, Clarissa had to take care of the business of the estate.

  Their eyes locked on each other. They were at a standstill with the dance lesson schedule. Nicholas was no longer grinning, and he had uncrossed his arms.

  Clarissa didn’t care if he thought she was being churlish. She would simply not comply with his wishes. She saw how his broad shoulders widened and he seemed to grow another inch taller. He could puff up all he wanted and try to demand she acquiesce, but if he was smart, he’d have an inner voice that cautioned against it.

  “I am not a laborer, as you say, but rather an artist recently arrived from France. We seem to be at an impasse. Perhaps you will share your daily schedule with me?” Nicholas’s tone placated her.

  An artist? France? What was he doing here giving her fits and possibly dance lessons? “I see. Well, thank you for asking, Mr. Granger. I train our horses six days a week. Grandmother insists I not train on Sunday and I’m sure my stable hands appreciate their day of rest as well.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that you work from sunup to sun down? That seems to leave our evenings free. I think that will do nicely as I require the brightest part of the day to do my painting.” He crossed his arms and one brow rose as if it were a punctuation mark.

  Wasn’t he pleased with himself? She had to admit he had come up with the perfect solution. But she couldn’t let him win that easily.

  Clarissa turned on him, sputtering, “That’s impossible. There is no way I can train horses all day and then attend lessons in the evening. You must think of another way. I insist.”

  He released a big sigh, “Come sit by the fire, and let’s begin again. I fear your grandmother will not let us leave this room until we have a schedule set to her satisfaction.”

  With that, he gestured toward the high back chairs that flanked the fireplace. He took a few minutes to add more wood to the fire. At that moment, the maid entered to collect the tea tray, probably curious to see what they were doing in the parlor for such a long period of time.

  Clarissa imagined the girl thought Nicholas the most handsome thing she had laid eyes on in a long time. He had an odd combination of rugged physic with his unruly hair and 5 o’clock shadow. His skin was bronzed as if he had spent hours in the sun. When he walked and held himself with an air of dignity, he seemed to fill the room with his presence. Maids were apt to think that way, but not Clarissa. No.

  The maid was taking an inordinate amount of time clearing the tea tray. “Is there something you require?” asked Clarissa.

  “Oh, no Miss Clarissa, shall I fetch a fresh pot of tea? Oh, your grandmother wishes to know if you are making progress.”

  “No tea and I will fill grandmother in on our progress when next we meet. That will be all for now.”

  She gathered up the tray and took her time leaving the room.

  “Where do we stand with lesson time?” Nicholas asked with a raise of his brow. “If you are not willing to spend your evenings with me in the ballroom, when else might we meet?”

  He had a point although Clarissa did not want to admit it. She didn’t want these lessons in the first place, but in the end, Gran always got her way. She didn’t know why she was being so hostile towards this man. Perhaps it was that he had taken her breath away at first sight or that she had the feeling of butterflies in her stomach each time he looked at her. It was unsettling.

  Clarissa folded her arms and glared at Nicholas. She took a deep breath to calm herself as she tried to ignore the fact that he was rather handsome. Dark brown hair cut in the shoulder-length style of the day, and just the hint of a dimple presented itself when he moved his mouth a certain way. Dressed in a well-cut suit and having a demeanor about him of being comfortable with himself spoke volumes. She was tired of all her work training the horses today…and hungry. Yes. Hunger. That’s why her stomach kept giving little flips each time she looked at this sad excuse for a gentleman.

  “You are quite right, although it pains me to say so. I will agree to three evenings a week for the lessons.” Clarissa met his eyes with a look that said not to push her on this.

  “Very well, agreed, three evenings a week to start. I reserve the right to change the time and or add more lessons as needed. Today is Monday. Let’s say Wednesday evening before dinner, in the ballroom. I shall take my meal with you that evening so come to the lesson dressed in proper attire. I assume you own something other than that ridiculous looking costume.”

  “How dare you infer that my outfit is anything if not practical. It suits my needs perfectly and allows me the freedom I require when working with the horses. You needn’t worry about my wardrobe, Mr. Granger. You just see to your own.” With that, Clarissa rose and glared down at him. “I have evening rounds to make at the stables. You can find your own way out.”

  Straight backed and trying to walk as normally as possible, Clarissa exited the East Salon. She nearly ran into the maid who was lingering near the door. She glared at her and quickly made her way to the kitchen garden entrance where she collected her boots and marched down the path to the stables limp and all.

  Clarissa knew how important it was to be calm around the horses that were high strung by nature. She insisted all the stable hands and handlers be of an even temperament. She slowed her stride as she neared the stables, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. Inside she was still seething at Mr. Granger’s remarks about her outfit. Why the very nerve of him. Her outfit for riding consisted of a split skirt, long-sleeved blouse, and a short-cropped jacket. The skirt suited her riding style perfectly as she rode astride while on the Estate, but her hip pained her to ride sidesaddle when in public. Of course, she knew how to dress properly. While she didn’t wear it around the estate, she did have a little hat with a feather plume on it, which sat smartly on her head along with a fashionable proper riding outfit.

  She paused when she saw Baines patiently waiting near the entrance. There were three stables parallel to each other lying northeast of the manor house. Sounds of the grooms and stable lads dishing out the horse feed could be heard along with the crunch of horses chewing their food. They had kept a close eye on all their remaining stock after the colic episode that devastated their stables. Now she’d also have to keep an eye on Nicholas Granger.

  Chapter Twelve

  C larissa entered the ballroom where Nicholas stood waiting for her. She swept in wearing a lovely lavender organza dress with slippers to match. The skirt was ankle length and lightly gathered at the waist with sleeves that were full at the top then see-through to the wrist and form fitting with an off the shoulder neckline, an elaborate belt braided in contrasting colors set off her waist. With her hair fashioned up off her shoulders with pins, she looked every bit the young lady he had expected to see when he’d first arrived at the estate. She was a vision of loveliness as she stood before Nicholas who seemed transfixed at her appearance.

  “Oh, there you are, Miss Tanner,” he said then cleared his throat. Taking his pocket watch out and popping the catch open to view the time, he said, “I see you are right on time. Thank you for your promptness.”

  “Of course, Mr. Granger. I too have a schedule to keep.” Was that a sparkle she noted in his brown eyes with flecks of gold? She admonished herself for having such thoughts.

  “Let us begin with the waltz. It was all the rage in Europe, and I dare say it has caught on here as well. It only requires two people to perform, which suits us nicely for now.”

  Nicholas began by demonstrating a simple box step, having Clarissa mimic his movements as they stood side by side. This particular exercise was most difficult for Clarissa due to the injury to her hip. Forward and back were easy for her. Side to side was more troublesome. Clarissa found Nicholas’ voice to be soothing and she was gliding along as best she could to its rhythm when he abruptly halted and said they would n
ow join hands in partner position.

  She brought herself around to his voice again and caught the tail end of what he was saying as he reached out for her and encircled her waist with his right arm. The jolt was immediate from her waist to her toes, followed by a warm glow, which seemed to pool at her most inner core. By the time he took her right hand in his left one, she was a puddle of emotion. Her breath caught then continued shallower, the sensation of his hand on her back distracted her. Not hearing his voice now, she was engulfed in the wonderful sensations brought on by his touch.

  They continued the box step as they advanced around the dance floor. Her emotions were bright and swirled out of control. She was very aware of his strength as his arms encircled her. His touch awakened feelings within her that she hadn’t known she possessed. Their gazes met then faded away and they turned and twirled for the first time.

  “You seem to be a little more comfortable now that we’ve moved around a bit. Does your hip bother you?”

  “That depends upon the move.” Clarissa realized she had never been affected like this by a man before. It was simply delicious.

  How could she be expected to concentrate on his voice and foot movements when she couldn’t even feel her own toes?

  She was struggling to concentrate on the dance moves now. She must make an effort to move her feet. Shock set in when she discovered she had stepped on his feet.

  “Ouch! I beg your pardon Miss Tanner. I assumed you were ready to start the next phase of our lesson.”

  “Oh, dear, I do apologize, sir. I was caught unawares. Perhaps we could start again?” mumbled Clarissa in a soft voice. She could not allow these new-found feelings to overrule her sensible mind. She didn’t need dance lessons.

  And start again they did. Nicholas called out the steps as before—one, two, three, one, two, three. Clarissa moved her feet forward when they should have gone back and thus ended up in another tangle of feet. “Oh dear, oh my, I’m so sorry for stepping on your feet again, sir.”