‘Well, make it quick then, Letitia,’ Kit said, ‘I have pressing business to see to myself. Has Jeremy been out on the tiles again? How much is it this time?’
‘It is nothing to do with Jeremy. You may say what you want of my son, Kit, but at least he is not a seducer of innocent virgins!’
Kit grinned distractedly. ‘No? Well, he’s young yet, I suppose there’s still time. So what is this pressing matter then?’
Kit sat down at the table, addressing himself to a plate of ham, his thoughts on what he should do in reply to Clarissa’s letter, only half-aware of his sister fuming silently beside him.
‘It is you, Kit. You really have gone too far this time. I am appalled, absolutely appalled at what I hear. You have placed me in a dreadful position; I have never been so embarrassed. And poor Constance—well, needless to say she is up in arms at your behaviour.’
Kit’s attention finally secured, Letty sat back in satisfaction, watching her brother carefully putting his knife down on his plate before speaking. His voice was measured, but she knew that look of old. He was angry. ‘Who is this Constance that I have so unwittingly offended?’
‘Lady Constance Denby. You must have heard me mention her, Kit, she’s one of my oldest friends.’
‘I remember her vaguely now—a widow, isn’t she? Her husband was that rare thing, an honest politician. What of her?’
‘She called on me yesterday. You are obviously not aware that she has a niece. Two nieces, to be precise.’
‘And,’ Kit said cautiously, ‘what of them?’
‘I am led to believe you’ve had dealings with both of them recently. Amelia, Constance informs me, you intended to offer a carte blanche, but were induced to change your mind. Not content with trying to ruin one who, Constance admits, was at least colluding in her own downfall, you then proceeded to ravish the other, Clarissa—a complete innocent—who is now apparently heartbroken in love with you.’
‘Clarissa Warrington is Constance Denby’s niece?’
‘Yes, and not just her niece, but very much her aunt’s favourite. Constance thinks highly of her, paid for her schooling, had hoped to have Clarissa as her companion. But she is unwilling to abandon her mother and sister even though, from what I can gather, they live in rather straitened circumstances. Honestly, Kit,’ Letitia said exasperatedly, ‘the girl is respectable through and through; it’s not like you to make such a mistake.’
‘I had no idea she was so well connected, Letty, nor such an innocent, I promise you.’
‘So I informed Constance must be the case. A rake you are, Kit, and no mistake, but I know that seducing innocents is not in your usual line.’
Kit smiled grimly. ‘Thank you for the tribute, sister.’
Letty’s face softened. ‘I am not going to deny, brother, that you have some good points. I am particularly grateful for the unwavering support you provide to my poor weak, foolish Jeremy, you know I am. But really, Kit, you have gone too far this time. What possessed you?’
‘God, Letty, I’m sore pressed to understand that myself.’ Kit shook his head in an effort to assemble his thoughts. Clarissa, it would seem, had been telling him the truth all along, and was every bit the innocent she claimed to be. He could not for the moment reconcile this with his own knowledge of her. If she was the person her aunt claimed, why had she behaved so recklessly? It would certainly explain her letter this morning—she would never accept a carte blanche from him.
‘Is it true that you abducted her and took her to France on the Sea Wolf?’ Letitia enquired incredulously. ‘I told Constance that part must be a lie, for no woman has ever been on board that yacht of yours, even me!’
‘Letty, you’d be sick before we left harbour, as well you know. That part is true, actually, although she came willingly—or so I believed.’ Kit ran his hand distractedly through his hair, causing one lock to fall forward into his eyes. He brushed it away angrily. What had he done?
His conscience, dormant since yesterday, launched itself with renewed vigour, castigating him so thoroughly that his voice, when he recovered enough to speak, was clipped and grim. ‘I thought she was lying. She protested her innocence, but I chose not to believe her. I wanted to take her with me, you see, I was—I don’t know, Letty, I was bored, she was different, I was enjoying myself. She must have been terrified, though she gave no outward sign of it. I didn’t realise what I was doing to her.’
‘Well, according to Constance, there was precious little you didn’t do to her.’ Letty’s reply was tart, the stinging dressing down she had borne from her friend still fresh in her ears.
Kit looked up at the sharp words, seeing the hurt on his sister’s face. ‘I’m sorry that you have been embroiled in this. I take it that Lady Constance vented her spleen on you in my absence?’
‘It was awful! Constance has an extremely sharp tongue—I did not at all relish being on the receiving end of it, I assure you. But that is nothing to what you must have put that girl through, Kit. Why, it is a very ravishment, for goodness’ sake.’
‘No, no, it’s not that simple, I assure you, Letty. But never mind that, did Lady Constance say how she does, my poor Clarissa?’
‘Much you care.’
Seeing Kit wince, Letitia softened. At least he wasn’t wholly indifferent to the damage he had done. ‘Clarissa apparently knew nothing of her aunt’s visit to me. She is upset and hurt, but she is obviously a girl of some strength and backbone, I must say, for Constance told me she would hear nothing against you, and despite all the evidence, insisted that she had consented to everything. She makes no accusations against you and wants merely to forget the whole episode. And that, let me tell you, Kit, is far more than you deserve.’
Some vestige of self-preservation made him cling to the idea that he had been the victim of a plot. That somehow, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, he had not behaved completely abominably. ‘Why did Lady Constance seek you out? She must have known you would come straight to me.’
‘Naturally, I assume that was her intention. Sometimes, Kit, you can be quite dim-witted.’ It was not often that Letitia felt superior to her brother, and it had to be admitted that in spite of the circumstances she was enjoying it for now. ‘Regardless of her niece’s wishes to the contrary, Constance felt that you should understand the extent of your—perfidy, she called it. It’s obvious, Kit, she wants you to suffer.’
‘So she wasn’t asking you to intervene in any way?’
‘Intervene? In what way? Oh, you mean with you?’ A trill of laughter greeted this idea. ‘Quite the contrary, Kit. She was immensely relieved Clarissa wanted no more to do with you, for the last thing on earth she would wish on her niece was marriage with a rake like yourself.’
‘Are you sure she said that? This was definitely no plot to entrap me in some way?’ The voice in Kit’s head that had always been Clarissa’s supporter scented the winning post, with just this one obstacle to clear.
Letty stared at her brother open-mouthed. ‘You actually think that Lady Constance Denby would plot with her niece to trap you into marriage? You have windmills in the head, Kit, I declare.’ Letitia continued in full sail. ‘Do you have any idea, my dear brother, just how very respectable that family are? I mean, I know the mother and the other daughter are plainly not the brightest buttons in the box, but the family pedigree is impeccable, and Constance is probably better connected than you or I. No, Kit, there is no plot. Face it, the poor deluded girl must be in love with you, there can be no other explanation.’
‘She never said a word of her feelings towards me.’ Not a word, but what about her actions? The seed of doubt Letitia had planted in his mind was taking firm root. What else explained Clarissa’s behaviour? The way she had accepted him yesterday with hardly a moment to consider when she thought he was offering marriage? Could it have been love and not avarice? His past experiences made him assume the worst of everyone. But, then, did not Clarissa turn all those things on their head?
‘Letty, are you sure you are right? I find it hard to believe Clarissa would keep such a thing from me.’
‘Do you? Well, perhaps this chit understands you better than you think. How would you have reacted had she declared her love for you in the circumstances? Would you have believed her?’
No, of course he wouldn’t have. He would have thought it yet another ploy. Yet it was the one thing, the only thing that made sense of her behaviour. Despite the shock of Letitia’s revelations, following hot on the heels as they did of Clarissa’s letter refusing his carte blanche, Kit began to feel a sense of rising excitement.
But Letitia had not finished with him yet. ‘You have done a very stupid thing, Kit. I can only pray you have not left the girl with child—although, to give you credit that is not, to my knowledge, something you make a habit of. The best thing for everyone involved in this dreadful affair is to forget it ever happened. And as for you Kit, I recommend you repent for the first time in your life, and look to the future. Put the girl out of your mind. Constance is the best person to deal with her. She will find her a position as a governess or some such thing, and we can all get on with our lives. But let this be a lesson to you.’
Letitia rose to go, well satisfied with the visit. Her brother was looking thoughtful, his initial anger long since dissipated. Well and good—perhaps now was the time to give his mind something else to think about. ‘You know, Louisa Haysham is not yet betrothed. I’ve mentioned before, she would make a biddable bride for you. It’s time you settled and mended your ways, Kit. Think about it.’
Kit had been thinking hard on his sister’s words. His conclusions, only just now reached, were not likely to make Letitia happy. In truth, he found them quite shocking himself. How could he have been so blind? It was as if a fog had been lifted from his mind, allowing him to see with frightening clarity. Now that the situation was for the first time crystal clear, he was determined on a rash course that made him feel quite light-headed. He stood to usher his sister towards the door. ‘Put Louisa Haysham from your mind, I am not interested in her. The woman I am going to marry is a fiery, feisty, green-eyed temptress who goes by the name of Clarrie.’
‘Clarrie?’ Looking at him, Letitia saw a strange light in his eyes, a small smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. ‘Kit, you’re not going to do anything foolish, are you? I’m sorry I spoke so harshly, even if you did deserve it. You are not all bad, you know. Sometimes I think you act the part because you enjoy it.’
‘Do you, Letty? You are not the first to tell me so, strangely. Clarrie said something similar almost the first time she met me.’
‘Kit, listen to me. That will not do, you know, Constance will not hear of it. Kit, tell me you’re not going to… Oh, if I had known you would do this, I would not have come.’
‘But I am very glad you did come, for you have put it all in perspective for me. You were right, Clarissa would not have behaved the way she did unless she loved me. I was just too stupid to see it. Thank you, and say thank you to Lady Constance, although I intend to do that myself when everything is settled.’
‘Oh, Kit, please don’t do it. She’ll not have you. Kit, you can’t marry a ruined girl—think of your good name.’
‘Letty, you have assured me all too many times that I don’t have a good name to think of, and you are right. I am thinking only of Clarissa’s good name. She is not ruined, we merely anticipated our vows, and that is hardly an uncommon thing. And if I find that one word of this story escapes, I will know who to blame, I warn you. Do not be the cause of an estrangement between us.’
‘But I don’t understand. Why are you doing this? You don’t have to marry her.’
‘Oh, but, Letty, I do. Don’t you see? I love her. There, I’ve said it! Don’t look so astonished. No, do, because it is quite the most astonishing and extraordinary thing ever to happen to me. Now you must pick your chin up from the floor and go, for I have important things to attend to.’
Finding herself deposited in the hallway, a frankly flabbergasted Letitia had no option but to leave, which she did reluctantly, directing her coachman to drive to the Royal Exchange where she intended to purchase several unnecessary pairs of kid evening gloves. The afternoon would be more profitably spent in indulging an unwonted fit of the vapours.
Before Letitia had even mounted the steps of her barouche, Kit had already ordered his carriage and bounded up the stairs calling for his valet. Fifteen minutes later he was negotiating the streets with care, perched high on the seat of his phaeton. He felt he was seeing the world with a clarity of vision never before granted to him. Clarissa, the embodiment of all his desires, who overturned everything he believed in, was in love with him. It seemed so obvious now—how could he have deluded himself so? Challenging, brave, lovely Clarissa. His other half.
For he could deny it no longer, he was every bit as much in love with her. Had been in love with her for who knows how long, but was too stupid to recognise it. Calling it lust, desire, bewitchment, refusing to recognise that this need to see her, be with her, was anything other than love. He had been too afraid to admit it, but he was afraid no longer. If only it wasn’t too late. If she would only forgive him.
Impatiently, Kit urged his horses forward to overtake a cumbersome gig loaded high with bales of hay. Recklessly he took a corner at breakneck speed, narrowly missing a crossing sweeper standing idly in the middle of the road, barely noticing the string of expletives that trailed in the air behind him. A mere half-hour after saying goodbye to Letitia, Kit pulled up in front of the Warrington household.
A maid in a mobbed cap showed him in to a small parlour where a faded woman much resembling Amelia was waiting. ‘Lady Maria, I presume. Lord Rasenby, at your service, ma’am. I am come to see Clarissa, if I may.’
‘I am surprised at your temerity, my lord. I cannot believe that you have the nerve to intrude on our privacy like this. Vile seducer.’ With this, Lady Maria sank back on to the sofa, clutching a small vial to her nose, and dissolved into wild sobs.
The noise brought the maid back. Kit watched, appalled and intrigued, for he had never seen such a determined display of distress. Forgetting that Lady Maria had quite legitimate grounds for being upset, he stood to one side as first, feathers were burnt under her nose, then her wrists were chaffed, a cordial was poured, and when this had no effect, the bell was rung. Lady Maria continued to sob, and still Kit stood, becoming bored and more than a little anxious as time passed and Clarissa did not appear.
The door opened and finally Clarissa entered the room. Seeing Kit, she stopped abruptly and blushed a deep, fiery red. Her voice, however, was cold. ‘I have no idea what you are doing here, Lord Rasenby, but as you can see you have upset Mama greatly. Please go, and let me tend to my mother.’
‘My God, Clarissa, how do you stand it? I’m extremely glad that you take after your father’s side of the family. Is she always this operatic?’
She couldn’t help it; she smiled reluctantly. ‘No, no, not always quite this bad. Please leave, I beg you, Kit. I wrote you a letter, which you have obviously not yet received. When you have read it you’ll understand that you have no need to visit me again.’
‘I’ve already seen the letter, Clarissa. That’s not why I am here.’
She looked up at this, temporarily arresting her ministrations. Lady Maria lay quieter, but still incoherent, on the sofa at her side. ‘If you’ve read it, you’ll know that you have no need, nor any right to be here.’ Clarissa turned back to her mama, after some time succeeding in making her comfortable enough to summon the maid to take over.
Lady Maria sat up. ‘Clarissa! Do not, I beseech you, sit alone with that—that monster!’
Clarissa walked purposefully towards the door. ‘It’s all right, Mama, Lord Rasenby is just leaving.’
Kit followed her out into the hall, but when she made to open the door to show him out, placed a restraining hand on her arm. ‘Clarrie, I must speak with you. Is there a room where we may be p
rivate?’
‘I have nothing further to say, Kit. All is at an end, I said so clearly in my letter. And you promised, Kit, you were quite specific, in fact, that you would make no more offers if I turned you down. My answer is no, and it is final. Now please, let me alone.’ She was pale where she had been flushed earlier, determined not to break down, nor to show him how much this was costing her.
‘Please, allow me just a few moments. It’s very important, Clarissa. Please? I promise not to touch you. I want only to talk.’
‘Can I trust you?’
‘Please, Clarrie.’
It was the edge of desperation in his voice that swayed her. Without another word she directed him into a small, dark room at the back of the house where she was wont to do the household accounts. She closed the door behind them, but stood with her back to it, as if poised for flight. ‘I’m listening, but you must be swift. It’s cold in here, and I must go back to tend to Mama.’
Having never in his life thought to make a proposal of marriage, Kit had not considered how to phrase it. He therefore plunged into words without any of the finesse he prided himself on when making a proposal of a less permanent nature. ‘I’m sorry. I was wrong. I didn’t listen to you. I didn’t believe you. I’ve made a big mistake, thinking all the time that you were lying to me when you spoke the truth about yourself. I got it wrong, and now I want to make it right between us.’
‘I’ve told you, Kit, you have nothing to apologise for. I consented to everything we did together. You neither abducted nor seduced me. And in any case, both are beside the point. I won’t become your mistress. I won’t spend every day wondering if it’s going to be our last together. I won’t go to sleep at night wondering if you will decide you’ve had enough of me on the morrow. I can’t live like that, Kit, I won’t do it. Now, if that is all, I must go and see Mama.’
The Wicked Lord Rasenby Page 22