Calamity Claresta

by Irene Estep

  He spread the blanket they’d brought along and took Claresta’s hand to assist her as she sat down on it. He knelt down beside her.

  "Are you hungry?" she asked smiling.

  "Ravished."

  "Then you must let go of my hand, so I may serve our meal."

  He’d never been so affected by the mere smile of a beautiful woman and had a strong urge to pull her into his arms right then and there. Glancing over at Westhaven now coming their way, he reluctantly let go of her hand. "I did not tell you how beautiful you look today, Claresta."

  "Thank you, my lord." She turned from emptying the basket, and her gaze caught and held his for a long moment. "Y-You are quite the handsomest man I’ve ever met."

  Claresta’s impulsive statement caused her to drop the wedge of cheese she held in her hand. She’d never been so outspoken before, unless you counted the three proposals of marriage she’d previously made. But she had never, even in the extreme productions to convince the other prospects to marry her, blurted out such nonsensical flattery.

  From his long silence, she wondered if Drake thought the worst of her for being so direct. She avoided further eye contact with him and continued setting out their repast. Thankfully, Reggie approached then.

  "The boat looks fit, Claresta. We should take a turn about the lake after we eat."

  It was the first show of enthusiasm her cousin had shown for their outing. She thought Drake would be pleased not to have to endure Reggie’s surliness any longer. She certainly had been tiring of it. "Sounds like a capital idea. What say you, Lord Norwood?"

  "I don’t like the idea at all," Drake said with a disagreeableness in his tone she’d not heard before.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Claresta, disappointed by Drake’s refusal to go boating with them, persisted in trying to persuade him to change his mind. "It would be fun."

  "Then you and Lord Westhaven are welcome to it," Drake said with finality.

  Claresta did not allow the conversation to lag during their meal in spite of Drake’s disagreeable turn. Nor did she allow his churlish attitude to dampen her enthusiasm for the coming event. And trying to lighten the mood, she went about recalling a childhood episode. "Remember when we were children, Reggie, and Edwin and I talked you into taking us out in Grandpapa’s skiff so we could play a game of pirates."

  "Yes," Reggie said, exhibiting a rare grin. "You were playing captain as usual and had snitched one of your grandfather Gilbert’s broadswords from his collection. I remember you stuck your foot upon the bow and wielded the heavy instrument in the air, shouting, ‘Stand ready, mates, and bring her about.’"

  She wrinkled her nose and tried to draw Drake into the conversation. "I daresay, Lord Norwood, my cousin never took my orders so willingly before. He swung the boat about so quickly, I lost my balance."

  "You would have gone to the bottom of the Thames with the broadsword had Edwin not grabbed you." Reggie guffawed. "Had you by the ankles, he did. Took both of us to haul you back aboard, because you fought us like a she-cat. Can you believe it, Norwood? She wanted to dive into the brink and retrieve her Grandpapa’s collectible."

  "We should get back to the manor soon," Drake said, seeming not the least entertained by their story. "I invited one of the neighbors to dinner."

  A heavy frown creased his brow, and Claresta realized he was in a brown study. Had she done something to cause his suddenly surly mood?

  "Deuce take it, Norwood. A while ago you seemed in no rush to get back," Reggie protested.

  "There’s a cloud coming up, and the water is getting a bit choppy," Norwood said.

  Reggie muttered an expletive, and Claresta felt the camaraderie of the day slipping away. It was the first time in a long while she and her cousin had been on congenial terms, and she so wished to make peace with her family. But on the other hand, she could not afford to antagonize the man she would soon ask to marry her. The gentleman had a paradoxical nature. One instant he had been amiable and sociable, and the next he’d become terse and aloof. But her grandfather had not so often referred to her as a slyboots for naught.

  Coaxing her way out of being punished for the loss of his favorite sword had been one of many instances during her childhood she had finessed him and her father into her way of things. The wiles of a spoiled brat, Reggie, had called it. She had always considered it self-preservation in a household filled with predominately male members.

  "Just for a little while, sir," Claresta wheedled. "The weather looks as if it will hold off for awhile."

  He stared at her for a long moment, and then his features softened a little. "Go on with you, then."

  He’d given in to her wishes readily enough and yet she still was not satisfied. "Are you sure you do not wish to join us? It would be more fun if you came."

  "It will be much safer with only two occupying such a small craft."

  There was truth to his statement, but Drake did not mean to sound so sullen. He regretted his earlier sharp retort, as well, but there was no way he could explain his timidity of boarding small water vessels. What a fool he would look if he became ill, which would likely be the outcome if he stepped aboard that narrow, swaying boat. "Go on," he repeated. "I’ll gather our things and put them in the carriage."

  "You don’t mind if we go, then?" Claresta asked hesitantly.

  He smiled at her and felt better for seeing the anxious look leave her lovely face. "I don’t mind. Have your frolic, but don’t take too long about it. I truly do have other guests coming this evening."

  Drake watched the pair board the small vessel and had a strong inclination to call them back. By the time he’d loaded their things, the wind had picked up, and the waves were slapping at the shoreline with more force than before. He decided to wave them in before the wind got any stronger.

  He walked to the edge of the dock and regretted his action almost immediately. Claresta stood up in the boat and waved back to him. Reggie lifted one of the oars from the water--for what reason, Drake could not fathom. Perhaps he saw Drake wave them in and was making an attempt to bring them about. There was a sharp crack of thunder, just before a brisk breeze stirred the craft and spun the boat in a half circle.

  Claresta went sailing over the side and Reggie, in a sudden grappling effort, reached out to her and lost one of the oars. The boat, aided by the wind, drifted further away. The man again tried to retrieve the other oar when a wave pushed it on the same course past him.

  Claresta struggled for buoyancy. Drake yelled to Lord Westhaven to forget the lost oar and use the one he had. The man then paddled rigorously with the one oar, but headed aimlessly in circles. Blast the incompetent!

  Claresta floundered for another moment on the surface and then sunk below. Drake knew exactly what was happening. Her skirts, absorbing more water now, were weighing her down.

  Her heavy skirts killed her.

  The mumbled words from the mourners at his mother’s funeral had since become a whispered dirge in his mind, and it came to him so strongly now that he shouted in anguish, "No!"

  He did not waste precious time as his father had all those years ago. Drake quickly jerked off his jacket and discarded his boots. He would be of little use to Claresta if his own heavy garments hindered him from reaching her in time. He dove into the lake, stunned for a moment by the coldness of the water.

  He was grateful now for the times his father threw him into the pond behind Oakcrest in the dead of winter and demanded he sink or save himself. Drake doubted his father cared which.

  He saw Claresta come up for a quick gulp of air and go under again. Swimming faster than he’d ever thought possible before, Drake reached the area where he’d last seen her surface. He dove down twice before he located her by feel in the brackish water. His hand caught in her long flowing hair, which had come loose from its bindings. She seemed to be resisting his efforts to bring her to the surface. Then he realized she was tugging ineffectually at her underskirts.

  Drake gra
bbed a handful of the material and ripped the weighty garments away, tearing a portion of her dress in the process. He wasted no time wrapping one arm around her and pulling her to the surface.

  She coughed and sputtered, and then laughed. "I’m all right."

  She may be, but he certainly wasn’t. His heart slammed against his chest like a hammer striking an anvil. She had scared the living daylights out of him, and she dared laugh. Had he not needed both arms to keep them afloat he would gladly strangle her. Finally he dragged them both onto the shore. They fell in a heap, his arm still wound tightly beneath her breasts.

  "You idiotic little minx. You could have drowned," he exclaimed brusquely and barely resisted the urge to shake her until her teeth rattled.

  When she laughed again, he lost his reserve. He crushed her to him and kissed her. Her lips parted on a gasp, and he rammed his tongue inside. She tasted of salt and weeds and rain. Not exactly an aphrodisiacal combination, but desire stronger than anything he’d ever felt before surged through Drake.

  He’d meant the kiss to punish her, but he was the one who suffered. It had started raining, but he paid little heed. He didn’t want to let her go. Not now. Not ever.

  Lord Westhaven popped onto the scene and broke the bewitching spell of sweet rapture, or self-imposed torture, Drake knew not know which.

  "Good lord, man, what are you about?"

  Drake was in no mood to humor the man. He reluctantly tore his lips away from Claresta’s and said, "Get my coat and boots and bring down the carriage. Tie your mount to the back. You will drive."

  The look he gave Lord Westhaven brooked no argument. The dandy did as he was told and said nothing when Drake climbed onto the seat and lifted Claresta onto his lap. The lady did not seem to mind. She settled her head cozily against his shoulder, sighed deeply and closed her eyes.

  Claresta had never felt so safe in her life. She knew she was taking great advantage of the special care the earl was giving her, for she was only slightly fatigued from her ordeal. He’d come to her rescue very quickly.

  She’d had a moment’s scare when she had trouble divesting herself of her underskirts, but afterwards she could easily have made the swim to shore on her own. Instead she found herself playing the part of a milk-and-water-miss, something she’d never done before.

  She’d allowed Drake to bring her to shore under his capabilities alone. She had no doubt now that he’d fully recovered his strength, for his hold on her had been relentless. She had not expected him to rail at her like a disobedient child, nor to kiss her with such suddenness, such passion.

  It was the passion that had her still trembling. It had been the first time a man had thrust his tongue inside her mouth, and as repulsive as the act should have been, it had excited her beyond belief.

  He must like her excessively to kiss her with such intimacy. Then the thought struck her. What if he had already decided to ask her to marry him?

  She overcame her momentary excitement and realized she must present her offer beforehand. It would seem quite impolite to do so after the fact. Will you marry me? Certainly, my lord, but first you must sign this agreement.

  He would have no choice but to carry through with a covenant then. But wasn’t that what she’d wanted?

  Her head must have absorbed too much water. She was not thinking clearly. She settled against his inviting broad shoulder and closed her eyes to gather her wits. She breathed in Drake’s manly scent, and her wits flew the coop. All she could think about was that kiss.

  When they reached Norwood Manor, Elrod ran out to steady the team as Reggie jumped down from the carriage. "Hand her to me," he said and reached up for Claresta.

  Drake handed her over to her cousin, and Claresta’s eyes immediately popped open. "Put me down. I don’t need to be looked after like an invalid."

  She wriggled from Reggie’s arms so quickly she almost lost her balance when he sat her to her feet.

  Drake came off the carriage quickly, took her forcefully by the arm and led her up the steps of the portico. "You may not be an invalid, but you certainly need looking after. Come along, Miss Huntington, I have not finished having my say with you."

  "I am not a child." She twisted from his tight grasp.

  "Then quit acting like one," he said gruffly, but did not attempt to touch her again.

  Reggie scurried inside when Douglas opened the door.

  Drake gave Claresta one long quelling look, then turned and left her standing on the portico, thunderstruck by his impertinent behavior.

  Obviously, she had mistaken the meaning of his kiss. Lucky, Claresta thought, that she had not made her generous offer yet if he were going to be so difficult to manage. She hurried after him to give him a piece of her mind and almost ran into his backside when he came up short in the entry hall.

  Reggie was nowhere in sight. Apparently, he’d already gone up to his rooms. He must have expected the earl’s spleen to be vented on him next.

  "M’lordship, ye aire soaking wet."

  "Indeed we are, Douglas. Please see that a hot bath is prepared for your mistress."

  "Well, if it isn’t Calamity Claresta," a shrill voice piped from the open doorway of the salon to the right. "What catastrophe have you brought down on this gentleman’s head, Miss Huntington?"

  "Why, you mean-spirit--"

  "We’ve had a slight accident," Drake abruptly interrupted Claresta and bowed to Lady Chelsworth.

  Lady Emmeline, standing next to her mother, giggled. She sobered quickly when her father, the portly Lord Chelsworth, pushed past her with a stern glance. He then turned to Drake and said, "I see we should have come at a more appropriate hour, Lord Norwood. I had thought to beat the rain by arriving early, but the weather appears to be clearing now."

  Drake lowered his gaze to the growing puddle around his feet and cast Claresta a quelling look before answering Lord Chelsworth. "I beg you to make yourselves comfortable, sir. If you’ll excuse me, I should only take a moment to change and shall be down shortly to join you."

  Lady Chelsworth pointed an accusing finger at Claresta. "I did not know she was your house guest. When I saw her in King’s Lynn . . . Well, Lady Norwood travels so infrequently to London, and you are too new to England, I never realized either of you were acquainted--"

  "I can see you are anxious to reacquaint yourself with the lady as well, but Miss Huntington has suffered a mishap, and I believe she will wish to beg your leave this evening."

  Lady Chelsworth sniffed. "If you value your life, sir, you should hope she begs your leave for good."

  Almost brought to tears by Drake’s banishing words, Claresta scurried past her accuser and ran headlong up the stairs. Embarrassed, she did not look at the dowager as she brushed past her watching the scene from the bottom of the stairway.

  Drake’s eyes followed Claresta as she ascended the stairs. He nodded to the dowager. Lady Norwood had just come down after being informed of the Chelsworth’s arrival, an ill-timed event to be sure. She urged the guests back into the drawing room. Lady Chelsworth, wailing at her husband for not informing her of that gel’s presence at Norwood. Chelsworth’s words urging his wife to stubble it, faded as Douglas closed the door after them.

  "See to refreshments for our guests, Douglas," Lady Norwood ordered, "and tell them I had to see Cook about something."

  Instead of turning toward the kitchen, however, she followed Claresta to her room where she found the gel flung across the bed, face down.

  She seated herself on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on the young lady’s shoulder. "Come, child, you are made of sterner stuff than this. Was the mishap so terribly frightening?"

  Claresta sat up and gave a tremulous smile. "I believe I took a few years off Dra . . . Lord Norwood’s life by tumbling off a small boat into the lake. Apparently, he’s annoyed because I wasn’t frightened as much as he thinks I should have been."

  "’Tis the nature of man to want his lady to have tender sensibilities."
/>   "His lady?" she laughed scornfully. "I fear it is not to be. Lady Chelsworth will see to that."

  "The earl is already head over ears for you. There is naught she can say to change that."

  Claresta’s gaze swept upward to meet Lady Norwood’s. "Did he say he has a tendre for me, my lady?"

  "Of course, not. I do not believe he is as yet aware of it himself."

  Lady Norwood was a romantic, Claresta thought as her spirits once again took a tumble. "His affections will never have a chance to develop now that Lady Chelsworth is here to spread the gossip about me."

  "Gossip is gossip. A bitter woman, Lady Chelsworth. I rather feel sorry for her if she tries to speak ill of you to Lord Norwood." The dowager waved her hand in dismissal, then eyed Claresta narrowly. "Unless . . . She called you Calamity. Does that signify something other than what you have already told me about the death of her brother?"

  Claresta stood and paced the floor. Just how far could she trust the dowager? The lady’s first loyalty would naturally be for her kinsman, and rightly so.

  "I can see you do not yet trust me enough to confide in me. There is much I already know of you that I have not divulged either. Oh, don’t look so surprised, my dear. As you said there is plenty of gossip to be heard in the metropolis. I was recently there, if you will remember."

  Claresta looked abashed. "I did not mean to deceive you, my lady."

  "Of course, you didn’t. There are times when women of this day must take desperate measures merely to survive. I might have done differently myself, had I only half your gumption. But I will give you one piece of advice, my dear. No man likes to be made a fool of. Lord Norwood esteems honesty above all. He told me so himself. I do not know whether he would consider an omission of the whole truth the same as a lie. Is the risk greater to tell or not tell him all? This is something you have to decide for yourself."

  Claresta tried to consider the dowager’s words, but she feared the earl’s kiss was still clouding her thinking. She knew the dowager expected her to say something, but how could she know what was the right thing to do while undergoing such raging emotions?