“What do you mean?” He leaned up, causing her arms to fall from around him.
“I was thinking about Papa and everything you said. How you were right. What if he found someone new to replace Lorraine? He doesn’t really need me. He never has. I was ready to give up my future to take care of him. No wonder he fell for Lorraine. I am merely a burden around his neck that he had to bear.”
“Clarissa, he never thought that.”
“You don’t know that. You haven’t talked to him. Remember what his will said?”
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“What does that tell you?”
“First of all, that he let a pretty, young woman turn his head. And secondly, that he thought you were throwing away your future on him. I think he wants you to be happy, and wishing death upon yourself is not the way. I think perhaps he wanted you to find someone you could care about and trust, and who would reciprocate your feelings. Mayhap he wanted you to be taken care of for a change instead of always taking care of others.” Justin leaned down and slowly captured her lips with his.
“What is that for?” Clarissa asked, pulling away from him.
“An apology of sorts.”
“Apology?”
“I was harsher than what I should have been with you today and I regret that. I’m just so tired of you martyring yourself. You are a vibrant woman that any man would be proud to be associated with.”
“I pushed the Duke of Hawkescliffe away.”
“My word woman,” he pushed himself off the floor and began pacing. “That man never felt a thing for you, just like Kala never loved me. They might not admit it yet, but those two were made for each other, are in love with each other. You didn’t push him away. He found an opportunity and ran towards it in the only way a duke would, coerced and acting as if he was fighting it the entire way. You were a way to keep the woman he truly desired at bay. Don’t you understand that?”
Clarissa had moved to a sitting position, readjusted her blankets and watched Justin carefully, warily. He rammed his fingers through his hair. The firelight glistened off of his auburn highlights.
“In my opinion,” he continued staring at her with hard eyes, “you are better off without him. You were nothing but a church mouse when you were around him. Now you have let your spirit shine through. He repressed you. Don’t you see that?”
“Stop,” Clarissa said forcefully. “You think you know everything don’t you? What if I truly cared for him? Have you thought about that?”
“If you truly cared for him, you wouldn’t need to ask my opinion. You wouldn’t have gone with me on that picnic today. You would have turned to him, married or not, to help you find your beloved Papa.” He watched as Clarissa turned her head and quietly looked into the fire. “The wind has let up, even if the snow has not. I’m going to see if there are any paths that lead out of here.” He turned and went through the listing door, slamming it against the frame twice until he finally aligned it.
***
Clarissa stared into the fire, unflinching when the door slammed shut. Anger radiated from Justin. The easy-going man who had first helped her on the journey to find her father had disappeared. He had been replaced by an angry man who brought up things about herself that made her doubt her life’s decisions thus far. She also began questioning the actions of those around her. Had Hawkescliffe only seen her as a woman who would make a good hostess and produce a requisite heir? Of course he had. Had she not heard the rumors, although they were few, that his family needed money? That he was involved in shipping? It had not been common knowledge, but she knew when to listen and when to keep silent. Were not the majority of ton marriages based not on love, but rather a complementary relationship and what each could bring to it?
Clarissa curled on her side, cradling her cheek in her palm and faced the cheery fire. She pulled the blankets more firmly around herself. She let the conversations that she and Justin had shared run through her mind once more. As much as she hated to admit it, Justin had been right on many counts. And then there had been the kisses they had shared, those intimate moments at his parents’ house.
She took a moment to assess her feelings towards him versus Hawkescliffe. Could she imagine standing up to Hawkescliffe as she had Southerby? No. Why hadn’t she turned to Hawkescliffe for help in finding her father? Hawkescliffe seemed too busy and important of a man for her to bother him with her situation. Even before his marriage, she could not imagine putting Hawkescliffe out by having him chase after her father. Could she have kissed and done the things with Hawkescliffe that she had done with Southerby? Just the thought had her blushing a deep crimson. If totally truthful, no man fired her blood like Southerby.
Justin irritated and angered her. He made her fight when she wanted to give up. He had taken care of her when she had been sick. She also found herself aching for his touch, hoping for more of his kisses. Had she fallen in love with him? Certainly not. Lust, perhaps, but not love, not yet. She did want to be a stronger person, to prove to him that she could take care of herself, to prove that his beliefs about her were correct.
In that moment she resolved to change. No longer would she live for others, but for herself and what she wanted. Clarissa decided she needed to take care of herself, for a change, instead of everyone else. Her father had made his decision, and she needed to stand back and let him live his life, and she would live hers. They were both adults and needed to act like it instead of exchanging parent and child roles.
She would still see that Lorraine and Franklin paid for all that they had done. She felt she owed it to that poor young woman that took her own life. No more would they go around the country destroying people’s lives. Afterwards she would live life as she saw fit. She would set the ton on its proverbial ear. All the matrons would be talking, and she would not care one bit. She let a sly grin cross her face, content with the decisions she had made tonight. Clarissa sat up and placed a log from the stack next to the fireplace into the fire, and waited for Justin to return.
***
Justin returned cursing loudly startling Clarissa out of her restful sleep. She should not have fallen asleep, but the heat from the fire had lulled her into it. He brushed the snow out of his hair and shrugged out of his coat. He truly is a fine specimen, she noted silently, and wished she had paid more attention to what he had looked like sans clothing.
“Did you have any luck?” Clarissa asked, sleep still lacing her voice.
“Go back to sleep.”
“I’m awake now,” she stretched languidly beneath the covers, unaware of how low they dipped. “It will be ages before I can go back to sleep. You smell like the cold air.”
“That’s usually what happens to a person who runs around in the snow like a crazy man,” he muttered as he laid down a bundle of something.
“Did you find a way out?”
“No, but I did find some more food. In my coat pockets,” he indicated and tossed the garment in her direction.
“Food?” Her stomach growled in tandem with her question.
“Berries.”
“What about a way out?”
“The rain has let up, but everything is still treacherous. Now the snow is covering all the trails. I’m not sure when they will be able to find us.”
“I see,” she turned on her stomach and reached for the coat that had fallen just short of where she sat. She dragged it towards her and unwrapped the material. “You’re positive they are safe to eat?”
“Absolutely. Ate them all the time growing up.” He watched as Clarissa nodded and popped a few into her mouth.
“Hmmm. These are heavenly,” she whispered.
“Don’t eat too many,” he cautioned as she brought out a handful.
“Is this all there was?”
“No, they will make your stomach hurt if you eat too many.”
“I thought you said they were safe.”
“They are, just don’t gorge yourself on them.” He turned to attempt
to warm his body.
“Do you think anyone will come to look for us?”
“The coachman should raise the alarm when we weren’t where we were supposed to be. Gramps’ Highlander instincts will take over from there.”
“I see. I truly am sorry to have gotten us in this mess.”
“You didn’t know a boulder would be jarred loose. I shouldn’t have let you wander off.”
“You make it sound as if you were watching over a child. I am an adult and am very capable of taking care of myself.”
“Of course you are,” he snorted before turning his back on her.
“Don’t patronize me. I am so tired of people running my life for me. Do this, don’t do this. Everyone treats me as if I haven’t a brain in my head. They look at me as if because I am the daughter of a duke I don’t have to think for myself. Well, let me tell you, I do, and I do it quite well.”
“You are getting all worked up,” he said calmly not looking away from the fire. “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep. You’ll feel less emotional in the morning.”
“Why don’t you...” she watched as he turned towards her and lifted a dark auburn brow. “Oh, go jump off a bloody cliff!” she shouted before rolling over to face away from him.
Justin watched her roll over and jerk the blanket up over her entire body. What a shame to cover that beautiful body, but it was better this way. He had to keep reminding himself that she was off-limits. She had too many issues to deal with and he did not want to be involved. He had helped her find her father and once his health was restored, he could dish out his own retribution to Lorraine and Franklin.
He should curtail the amount of time she spent with his sister. Justin did not know who would be the worst influence on the other. He would also keep his mouth shut about what he thought she should do. Clarissa’s personality continued to change daily. No longer did she try to hide in the shadows, but instead, she was becoming bold and independent. She was taking charge of her life. And if he were a betting man, he would guess that she would not adhere to her father’s new will just to spite the old bugger.
He watched the blanket raise and lower in an even pattern indicating Clarissa had once more fallen asleep. Justin felt his member stiff in attentiveness just watching her in peaceful slumber. He thought of ways he could awaken her and felt himself harden even more. He turned back around to the fire, willing himself to think of things that would cool his blood. Every thought kept coming around to her like her hair spread out on his pillow in a golden halo. His fingers wrapped in her golden hair. Her body, barely hidden from his view, gave him tentative peeks at how it would look in a diaphanous gown. He groaned at what the mental images did to his tautening body. Never before had a woman affected him so severely.
“Justin, are you sick?”
“No,” he mumbled, reminding himself of her innocence.
“Oh. I thought maybe you had gorged yourself on too many berries.”
“No,” he moaned, imagining the ripe berries he could be gorging himself on at this very moment.
“Are you certain you aren’t sick?”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“No, just thinking.”
Good, get her talking. Perhaps it will take his mind off her and what he wanted to do with her. “About?”
“You,” she replied candidly.
“What about me?”
“The way you make me feel.”
“Clarissa, don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?”
“I’m not strong enough to fight the both of us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you really have to ask?” He heard a rustling sound, but refused to turn around. A few minutes later he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Clarissa approached him, taking very careful steps, nude. He saw the way she bit her lip to keep from crying out at the pain and the tears that welled in her eyes, but refused to fall. “You stubborn chit,” he walked over and scooped her up in his arms. Her breasts pressed softly against his chest and her arms wrapped sinuously around his neck. “What do you think you were doing? Your feet...” Her lips cut off whatever he thought to say next. Her full, soft pink lips played over his.
Clarissa felt him fighting her. His lips were a hard line, an impenetrable barrier. His heart thumped madly against hers. He definitely was not unaffected by her. Clarissa clasped either side of his head in her hands and let her fingers stroke through the hair at his temples.
“Did you know you already have some gray hairs shining through at your temples?” she asked, suckling his earlobe after.
“Every one of them is named after you,” he replied stoically.
“Now that’s not fair. I’m sure your sister has given you a few.”
“Perhaps.” He walked over to the pallet and bent over, dropping her a little over a foot to the hard wooden floor below.
“Ow,” she yelped and grabbed at her elbow, tears stinging her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I hit my elbow. That was not very nice of you.”
“It was nicer than you think. Go to sleep,” he walked out of the building leaving her alone so that he could cool off. The snow continued to come down, and the moon glistened off of it making it almost appear like midday outside. His body ached with unfulfilled passion, but sleeping with Clarissa would be a mistake. Justin did not believe himself an appropriate match for her. Although her father might be grateful for him saving his life, he would definitely not approve of her marrying a man with Scottish blood in his veins.
Marry? The thought pulled him up short. Was he really considering her as a wife? It would never work. Oh, they were physically compatible, but they fought more often than not. Only lately did it seem they fought all the time, and Justin imagined that could be chalked up to the sexual tension between them. He stomped around outside for quite a while on the pretext of looking for trails he had missed before.
His body having cooled, he walked back into the little hut. She lay on the pallet, her back to the door. He didn’t know if she slept or not, but he refused to take the chance. Justin walked to the driest corner the farthest distance from her. He lowered himself to the floor and prepared for a long, sleepless night.
Chapter 11
Somehow he had managed to doze off only to be awoken by a piercing scream around dawn. Little shafts of light pierced through the cracks in the shutters and around the door. Startled awake, he reached for his gun that he usually carried, but found nothing there. Everything flooded back. The picnic, the boulder, searching for shelter, alone with Clarissa. He looked around startled, trying to place what woke him.
Justin first thought it had been Clarissa, caught up in a nightmare once more. But when he looked over, she slept peacefully where he had left her last night. He heard the piercing scream again. This time he identified it as coming from outside. Wishing he hadn’t forgotten his gun, he stood, grunting from the cold and stiffness, and made his way to the lopsided door. What he saw had him grinning in relief.
Grandfather’s hunting hawk lazily circled the hut. When he stepped outside, the hawk flew off. He heard the sounds of dogs in the distance as well. Rescue would be here shortly, thank goodness. He remained uncertain how much more of the enticing Clarissa he could take in such close quarters without going mad. At least at home there were lots of rooms to put between them.
He walked over to the lovely Clarissa who still wore no clothing beneath the blankets. The blanket had slipped during the night, giving him a tantalizing view of one milky breast. The peak reminded him of a pink rose and the nipple pebbled in the cool air. His body reacted swiftly. Counting to one hundred before moving, he bent down and pulled the blanket up, letting his hand graze against her breast. He knew he only tortured himself, but he could not resist the contact. Once covered, he placed his hand on her shoulder and shook her to wakefulness.
“What?” she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.
“Help is comi
ng.”
“Truly?” She sat up and the blanket slipped completely. She noticed her exposure and the strained look on Justin’s face. Clarissa covered herself, but took her time doing it. “How do you know help is coming?”
“Grandfather’s hunting hawk was circling. They’re smart hunters. He’ll bring them to us. He has the dogs with him as well.”
“I had better get dressed then.”
“Yes. I’ll give you some privacy.”
“What if I need help standing?”
“I’m sure you can manage,” he muttered, making his way outside.
“Do you have a knife I can borrow?” The question stopped him at the door.
“Why?” he asked cautiously.
“I’m not going to do anything drastic. Just let me borrow your knife.” He reluctantly left it with her and walked outside into the breaking dawn.
Inside, Clarissa dressed in her filthy, stiff dress and ate a few berries, refusing to eat the only food that remained in the picnic basket—the haggis. They really were quite tasty. She took the knife to one of the blankets. Before falling asleep, she had determined she would not be a burden on their rescuers or getting out of this valley. She would walk out of here under her own power.
“They’re coming,” Justin called from outside. She heard the hawk squawking overhead. Clarissa stood, walking herself up the wall. Her feet were ached with every step and she bit her lip not to cry out. Clarissa moved slowly but steadily across the floor towards the door. She opened it and stood in the doorframe, breathing deeply of the cold, fresh morning. Everything sparkled white, and she had to hold her hand up to her eyes to ease the brightness. “What in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Standing on my own two feet for a change. Shall we go and greet our rescuers?” She took a step on the uneven ground and almost took a tumble.
“Dammit, let me help you.”
“No,” she held up a hand. “I can do this. I have to do this.” She straightened once more, and this time she did not stumble when she walked. Justin walked a little behind her and beside her, ready to catch her if she fell. Two massive hounds, looking much like those at Justin’s estate, came bounding up to them.
To Love and Protect Page 16