To Love and Protect

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “Your father is very despondent today,” Matilda said slowly.

  “We had words last night. I don’t agree with several things he has done in the past. I made my concerns known. He did not take it very well.”

  “It looks as if you did not take it well, either.”

  “I would rather not talk about it,” she dipped her head and continued to eat.

  “Clarissa, do we have to have our lesson today?” Megan asked.

  “Yes. I have laid about long enough. It is time we began again. Where did we leave off?”

  “Riding?” she asked hopefully.

  “No, I believe it was formality and introductions.”

  “And here I thought you were fun.”

  “Oh, she can be fun, you just have to catch her in the right frame of mind,” a husky voice teased from the doorway. Clarissa felt herself blush at the underlying meaning of those words. She saw Matilda watch her speculatively, and she blushed even deeper.

  “Good afternoon, dear,” Justin’s mother greeted him. “Won’t you join us?”

  “I believe I will.” Clarissa covertly watched him saunter over to the buffet and fill his plate before sitting on the other side of her. She did not need to be trapped between him and his sister. Frantically, she searched her mind for an excuse to get away, but could come up with nothing. Instead, she bent her head and continued to eat, slowly and methodically.

  She had paused to take a sip of water, when she jumped and nearly spit the liquid across the table. She began coughing when Megan looked at her in concern.

  “Are you all right, Clarissa?” Megan asked, concern filling her voice.

  “Fine,” she wheezed. She shot Justin a look that could have frozen him where he sat.

  “Are you certain you’re fine?” he asked, concern laced his voice as his hand traveled up and down her thigh once more.

  “Perfectly,” she bit out and pulled her napkin from her lap. She dabbed at her lips and placed the napkin back across her legs. After finding Justin’s hand, she pinched the back hard so that he would draw back.

  “Feisty,” he murmured so that no one else could hear.

  “Megan, I think I’m ready to begin your lessons.”

  “Very well,” she replied, standing when Clarissa stood and assisted her up the stairs.

  The afternoon passed quickly after having convalesced for several days. It felt good to be up and about once more. She enjoyed working with Megan and helping her in her elocution and deportment. However, Megan definitely loved her horses. Clarissa caught her several times staring out at the stables, not paying attention to the lesson. Clarissa walked over to the window and looked down at the stables. An older man and several older lads were out there working with the horses.

  “So, are you truly as horse mad as everyone believes, or have you found another pastime as well?” Clarissa asked, arching one delicate, blonde brow.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I love my horses.”

  “I’m not denying that, but what about those lads down there?”

  “Please, they are just boys, and most are younger than myself.”

  “I see.”

  “Only one man has my heart.”

  “Megan, why don’t you see if Liam will talk to Justin?”

  “He has tried, but Justin sees him coming and turns the other direction.”

  “Just be careful,” she said wisely thinking back over the past few days with Justin. “Now, why don’t we go down and see what smells so delicious.” As they walked down the stairs, several others had gathered as well. They all gathered around the table and Clarissa watched as Justin and his relatives animatedly talked. She had missed out on this growing up and only now realized it.

  The evening meal ended and the group dispersed to the study. Clarissa tried to wedge herself under her father to help him move from one room to the other, when Justin stepped in.

  “Your feet are still healing. I’ll help your father.”

  “Thank you,” Clarissa replied, deciding not to argue the point. Papa seemed to be doing much better than when they had arrived over a month ago.

  “Mamma, when are we returning to the keep?” Megan asked as everyone settled in front of the fire.

  “I suppose we can leave in the next day or so, if His Grace is well on the mend.”

  “I will be glad to go back.”

  “You just want to be back with all your horses,” Justin teased his sister.

  “I will not lie, I do want to continue working the horses, but I also miss decorating for Yule.”

  “What do you mean?” Clarissa asked, curiously.

  “Here in Scotland, it has been against the law since the 1600’s to celebrate Yule. Although the authorities are becoming more lax in upholding the law, we still dare not decorate in any of the major towns and cities; however, the remote areas of the country tend to defy the law because they are farther away from curious eyes.”

  “That is sad and a reminder of how different our countries are, even though we are ruled by the same man,” Clarissa said. “Queen Charlotte has brought some of her own traditions from her homeland. At first everyone thought it very strange, but now several of the most prominent homes in London are following suit.”

  “And what are some of the things she has brought?” Justin’s grandmother asked.

  “A Christmas tree,” Clarissa said.

  “A tree?” Justin’s grandfather harrumphed.

  “It’s true,” the Duke of Hamilton added. “I’ve seen it myself.”

  “Yes, Princess Charlotte has had a live Yew tree brought indoors and planted in a planter. Then garlands of sweetmeats and other candies are draped on it. Little candles are placed on the branches and lit. The most wonderful thing are the presents. They are hidden among the branches and placed below the branches as well. I have been lucky enough to help Princess Charlotte host a party for a group of children. Their faces were so alight with joy. The last two years we did the same with some of the orphanages in London. It was almost as if, for a short time, those children had not lost everything in their short lives,” Clarissa finished, swiping away at a tear that clung to her lashes.

  “It sounds wonderful,” Maureen said.

  “I can almost picture it in my mind,” Megan sighed.

  After the family and guests dispersed to their rooms for the night, Clarissa lay in her bed, cuddled beneath the bed covers. Although warm and toasty, she felt very alone.

  “You’ll just have to get used to that feeling,” she mumbled to herself.

  The hour grew late, and she was still very much wide-awake. She had tried counting, and reciting both the alphabet and old nursery rhymes. None of them had helped her to nod off. Deciding to be done with it, she lit a candle and found a book she had been reading, and attempted to lose herself in the words. She watched as her door opened soundlessly and Justin entered, shutting it softly behind him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I saw your light on. Can’t you sleep?”

  “Unfortunately, no. But I have company,” she held the book up for him to see, “so you may return to your room.

  “I can’t sleep either.”

  “Try a book. At least it will keep you occupied.”

  “I know something else that will keep me occupied. Both of us, really.”

  “Southerby,” she said warningly. He began stalking across the room towards her. “Southerby, we can’t have any more repeat sessions of last night or yesterday afternoon.”

  “Why not?” He bent and captured her lips, taking the book from her loose hands and setting it aside.

  “What if we are not careful enough? What if there is a child?”

  “We’ll marry,” he shrugged off her concern negligently.

  “Have you forgotten that I do not wish to wed?”

  “I believe that is all a lot of guff and nonsense.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Clarissa, your father does not need a daught
er to take care of him. Hell, he doesn’t even need a nursemaid. In his own way, I think the will is his way of attempting to see you as happy as he once was.”

  “He had a fine way of showing it,” bitterness laced her voice.

  “I agree. However, that was his choice. You can either rise above or sink to his level. Now, I have to ask you one question. Do you really want to be alone the rest of your life?” He watched the indecision play across her face. He saw the longing there, briefly, before she hid her reaction.

  “I believe my life is perfectly fine the way it is.”

  “Mine isn’t.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Clarissa, you have come into my life and turned it upside down. From the moment I saw you in your torn dress in Gertie’s salon, I had this feeling that something of great magnitude had changed in my life. Granted, I fought it for as long as I possibly could.”

  Clarissa looked at Justin, her mouth hanging open in astonishment. Was he really doing what she thought he was? And if so, what would her answer be? He treated her as no other man ever had. To him, she was not a trophy to be had, at least she hoped not. He yelled at her and told her things about her life that she did not want to know. If she did decide to marry, wouldn’t that type of marriage be far preferable to one of polite indifference?

  “Justin, what are you trying to say?”

  “Clare, I am saying that I admire you greatly. Your courage is beyond that of any woman I have had the opportunity to know. Your loyalty to your family is honorable. You physically drive me to the point of madness until I can once again hold you in my arms. I care for you, Clarissa and would be honored if you will be my wife.”

  Clarissa stared at him, her mouth open in astonishment. He knelt beside her, her hand clasped in his. She pulled her hand free and stood shakily, moving to the opposite side of the bed. Her insides felt as if a horde of butterflies had been let loose. Her legs felt limp. Dear Lord, he had truly asked her to marry him. He had not declared it based on love and emotion, but rather facts that she could not argue with. Her hands shook as she wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “Are you all right?” He made to move around the bed, but she stopped him with a shake of her head.

  “No, don’t come over here, please,” a pleading look crossed her face. He stopped and gripped one of the posts of her bed as if to anchor himself and keep from reaching out to her. “After all that you know and all that I have told you about not wanting to marry, still you ask.”

  “I thought I explained why well enough.”

  “Perhaps for yourself. Has my father gotten to you?” she demanded.

  “No,” he denied. And in truth, it wasn’t actually a lie. He had decided to propose to her long before the argument he had had with her father.

  “Why?”

  “We slept together.”

  “So. Many people do that and never marry.”

  “I am more honorable than ‘many people’.”

  “Everything was fine the way it was.”

  “Of course it was fine, if you consider not being able to get you off my mind fine. Clarissa, have you any idea the number of years I aged when I saw that rock rushing towards you?”

  “You merely feel responsible for me because of our connection with Gertie.”

  “Responsible? Lord, I wish that is all it was. Do you know why I came in here tonight?”

  “I’m assuming because you wanted to participate in more activities as we did last night,” she answered frankly, a blush tingeing her cheeks.

  “I must admit that is some of it, but more than that, I wanted to see you, to hold you. I wanted to talk to you and be with you without anyone eavesdropping or prying. Is it so hard to believe that a man would seek that from you?”

  “Men see my father’s money and my looks. They see me as the perfect hostess and a way to catapult them up the levels of society.”

  “Is this the real reason you did not want to marry?” Instead of answering, Clarissa looked at a painting over his shoulder. Not being able to take anymore, he walked around the bed and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Answer me.”

  “Yes!” she bit her lower lip after she said the word. “Women are merely a way for men to achieve greatness,” she continued after her preliminary answer. “Who can be the best hostess? Who has the best connections? Who can bear a son for them to carry on their line? We’re merely another asset to them, much like a good horse. I don’t want to be like that.”

  “You won’t be. I don’t care if we remain in society or not. We can come to Scotland or we can stay in London. We can move to my country estate. I only ask that I still be able to do my work for the Foreign Office. I will ask nothing of you, only that you remain your charming self.”

  “I don’t know,” Clarissa said nervously. She felt his calloused hand cup her chin so that he could look into her eyes.

  “Clarissa, please do me the honor of being my wife.”

  “Will you still assist me in catching Lorraine and Franklin?”

  “Of course.”

  “Just because we marry, you will not force me to watch from the sidelines as they are captured? I want to be an active part. I deserve to be.”

  “You do not have to convince me. I want you by my side when they are apprehended.” He watched as she released a held breath. “Well, what do you say? Will you be my wife?”

  “I guess.”

  “Please, hold back on your exuberance. I don’t know that my constitution can withstand all the gaiety.”

  “You must know from the start that I still feel that this is wrong. But many things that you said I have to agree with. I would rather be in a marriage where there is respect and caring than indifference and loathing. And I know you will not continually commandeer me against my will,” she added for good measure.

  “Well, I guess that is one way to look at it.”

  “Yes,” she said, a calm settling over her.

  “How about we celebrate?”

  “And how would you suggest we do that?” A hint of mischief sparkled in her eyes. She watched as Justin glanced at the bed with an almost pleading look in his eyes. “Oh, fine, have your wicked way with me,” she said before he swooped her up in his arms and deposited her on the bed.

  Chapter 13

  The next morning, they announced to all present their engagement. Justin’s family kissed and hugged them both. Clarissa’s father merely shook Justin’s hand then quickly bussed Clarissa’s cheek with a fatherly peck. Hurt assailed her, but she quickly pushed it aside.

  The rest of the day was taken up with talk of wedding plans. Justin remained attentive to her throughout the following days. Each night, after the house fell quiet, he would sneak into her room. They would spend the night talking, cuddling, or making tender love. In the back of her mind she knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help the attraction she felt for this man. And in her mind, it would all be all right, for soon they would be married.

  After the end of the first week, Clarissa felt like she would scream if she heard one more thing about the wedding. The entire group had moved to the keep. It looked like a medieval castle with additions added on here and there. She had yet to have an opportunity to explore because of all the talk about the wedding. Everywhere she turned, someone wanted to speak to her about the wedding. She realized most girls dreamed of planning their wedding, but she no longer cared. They could merely tell her when to show up and all would be well with her. They attended church in the small village that morning and heard the first posting of the banns. Megan would slip away, leaving Clarissa, more often than not, to her mother’s questions and guidance. All the talk of the wedding had begun to drive Clarissa mad, causing her head to pound regularly.

  “Lady Southerby, won’t you please excuse me?” Clarissa asked one afternoon, unable to stand anymore talk about the details.

  “Wouldn’t you like to help with the wedding preparations?” she queried, confusion marring her features.


  “I leave everything in your very competent hands,” Clarissa bowed her head and left the room. She made her way outside and began wandering the gardens. They had celebrated the New Year, and there was a nip in the air, but the afternoon had turned pleasant and the bright sun warmed her. A gazebo stood in the back of the gardens, hidden by shrubs and trees. Clarissa made her way towards it.

  As she walked, her mind drifted. Time had passed so swiftly since she and Justin had set out in search of her father. It had taken almost a month for them to even locate her father. They had spent over a week on that horrible boat ride. She promised herself she would never ride on another boat again. Over two months had passed since they arrived in Scotland. Papa was finally on the road to recovery, gaining weight, and looking more himself. Although they had their differences, she was very glad that he had recovered. And somewhere along the way she had found a man that wanted to marry her for herself, and not who or what she brought to the marriage.

  The sounds of sobs and running feet brought Clarissa out of her reverie. Stepping around a large oak so she could better see who approached, she saw Megan running, her raven hair flying behind her. Clarissa stepped into her path and Megan nearly knocked her to the ground. When Megan realized who blocked her way, she threw her arms around her and sobbed against her shoulder. Shocked by this type of outburst from the usual cheerful Megan, Clarissa could only hold her, and attempt to sooth her. The sobs eventually turned to harsh hiccups, and Clarissa led her to the privacy of the gazebo.

  Megan quickly pulled away, her eyes wide and her hand covered her mouth. She searched frantically before rushing to some nearby bushes and Clarissa heard her become violently ill. Clarissa walked over to her, pulled her hair back and patted her back consolingly. When the retching stopped, Clarissa pulled out a handkerchief tucked up her sleeve and held it out for Megan.

  “Are you all right?” Megan shrugged a shoulder in response. “Should I get your mother or grandmother?”

  “No,” she looked startled and frightened.

  “What’s wrong, Megan?” Clarissa asked the girl as she led her up the steps of the gazebo to the seating area. Once they were both sitting, Clarissa tried again. “You can tell me.”