The Secretary

by Brooke, Meg

  “Thank you,” she said. “You have given me two beautiful gifts, and I have nothing for you.”

  “I’ll settle for a kiss,” he said, pulling her close. But as his lips brushed hers there was a knock at the door. They flew apart just as Phelps opened the door and announced Lord Sidney, Lady Sidney, and Lady Eleanor.

  Eleanor bounced into the room, beaming broadly. “Clarissa!” she cried, kissing the other woman’s cheek, “How beautiful you look. The color of that gown is quite becoming,” she added. “Oh, what fun we shall have tonight! Georgina and Maris are quite wild with envy.”

  “They begged to be included, of course,” Lady Sidney said, “But they have not yet made their curtsey to the king and queen.”

  “And of course there’s their come-out ball to be endured,” Leo said, and when his mother glared at him he amended, “enjoyed, I mean.”

  Lady Sidney laughed and smiled at both Leo and Anders. “I know it is not what you most love, but it is kind of you to do your duty to the young ladies.”

  “Always happy to oblige, Lady Sidney,” Anders said, staying close to Clarissa, who looked rather uncomfortable with all this talk of come-outs. Of course, he thought, she had not had the benefit of a ball or a curtsey to the queen. He wondered if she had ever been truly launched on society as Eleanor had and as Georgina and Maris would be.

  He did not have much time to worry about Clarissa’s feelings, however, because they were soon sweeping out the door and into the Sidney carriage. It was a tight squeeze with the five of them, and Anders and Leo watched bemusedly as the ladies arranged their skirts to avoid wrinkles.

  There was already a clog of carriages outside the Middlebury house, which was alight with the glow of torches. Leo handed down his mother and sister and Anders held out his hand for Clarissa. “It’s quite breathtaking,” she whispered to him as they made their way to the wide stairs.

  “You, impressed by a large mansion and a jam of carriages? I would have thought it would take a Russian diplomat to make you swoon.”

  She smiled wryly. “Who said anything about swooning?”

  “Quite right.”

  Lady Sidney took Clarissa’s arm to escort her down the receiving line, for which Anders felt a surge of gratitude. She might be a matchmaking mama, but she was still a kind woman, and as he watched her smile and present Clarissa to their hosts, he smiled.

  “Do you ever find it hard to comprehend that she and our Mr. Ford are one and the same?” Leo hissed in his ear.

  Anders laughed. “Every minute.”

  “What is it like, sitting there with her in men’s clothing all day?”

  Clarissa was curtseying to Lady Middlebury, her face alight. Anders frowned. “Excruciating,” he said.

  The ballroom was crowded, and Leo and Anders had a difficult time catching up with the ladies. When they did, a young man was already asking Eleanor for a dance. Anders leaned in to whisper in Clarissa’s ear, “Save the waltzes for me.” She nodded, her lips pressed tightly together, but said nothing. Already the young man who had solicited Eleanor’s hand was turning to Clarissa. Anders looked at Leo. “Shall we go and see who’s in the drawing room?”

  “Not yet,” Leo said, his eyes scanning the room. “I promised Miss Porter a dance. Ah, there she is.” He nodded towards a raven-haired young lady in a white dress, who noticed his gaze and blushed becomingly as Leo broke away and went through the crowd towards her. Anders stared after him.

  “I see he’s found Miss Porter,” Eleanor said at Anders’s elbow. “The Honorable Miss Porter, that is. She’s Lord Grayfell’s daughter, you know.”

  “She’s quite lovely,” Clarissa said.

  “I’m relieved he’s not put out over Miss Granger,” Eleanor said. “She wasn’t worth his trouble.”

  “And neither was Lord Sherbourne?” Anders asked, smiling.

  Eleanor smiled, too, though she looked a little sad. “No, he most certainly was not.”

  “Well, you must give me your first available dance, Eleanor,” Anders said politely, “as long as it’s not a waltz, for I’ve already claimed those from Miss Martin.”

  “You may have it.” Eleanor put a gentle hand on his elbow. “Thank you, Anders. Oh, Lord Carew, shall we?”

  And then she was off, her partner leading her out onto the floor for the opening set. “She is such a cheerful young lady,” Clarissa said.

  “You say that as if she is so much younger than you,” Anders said.

  She sighed. “She is. I am ancient compared to her.”

  “Tell me, was the age Clarence Ford gave me correct?”

  She nodded. “It was. I tried to lie as little as possible.”

  “I’m not cross with you, you know. About lying. I understand completely.”

  She shot him a level gaze. “I know you’re not, and I’m grateful for it.”

  “So why not give up Clarence Ford altogether?”

  “Would you still let me help you if I did? Would I still be able to sit in your study and read dossiers and follow you around Westminster?”

  He grinned. “Probably not.”

  “Then you have your answer.”

  The opening set was still forming. Lady Sidney was leading a young man across the ballroom towards them. Anders sensed her purpose. “I believe that gentleman wishes to dance with you,” he said in a low voice. “He is Mr. Altington, and I have heard he is a notorious gambler.”

  “Are you trying to poison me against him before we have even been introduced?”

  “Most young ladies would not throw over an earl for a mere mister, but I would not put it past you.”

  Lady Sidney presented Mr. Altington, who predictably asked Clarissa to dance the opening set with him. As she followed him, Clarissa turned back to Anders. “You were never in danger of losing me to Mr. Whibley, you know,” she said softly.

  Then Mr. Altington was leading her onto the floor, leaving Anders staring after her. “Close your mouth, dear,” Lady Sidney said. “You look like a codfish.”

  “I understand your father was a member of the House of Commons, Miss Martin,” Clarissa’s latest partner was saying as he led her back to the side of the dance floor. She smiled at him, struggling to remember his name. Was it Lord Barry? Carey? Carew! That was it.

  “Yes, My Lord,” she said.

  “I have been told he was much admired.”

  “I certainly admired him a great deal,” she said.

  He took her hand politely as he released her. “I think you are equally worthy of admiration, Miss Martin,” he said rather awkwardly.

  “Thank you, My Lord,” she said. Then Anders was at her side, staring Lord Carew down. The poor young man excused himself and fled. Clarissa glared at Anders. “You didn’t have to frighten him away.”

  “Oh, yes I did,” he grumbled. “I believe it’s my dance next.”

  “Allow me a moment to catch my breath,” she said. “I had no idea balls could be such strenuous affairs.”

  “Your feet will be sore tomorrow.”

  “They’re sore now!”

  He put his hand gently on the small of her back. “Would you rather sit this one out?” he asked as the first strains of the waltz began to play.

  “No,” she insisted. “I have never waltzed in public before, and I’m not about to miss my chance.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said, and he took her arm to lead her out onto the floor.

  It was only when they were in their places and he had pulled her into a secure hold that she wondered whether this might not have been a good idea. She could see Lady Eleanor across the floor, waiting for the music to begin with her partner. But many of the other young ladies were lingering on the edge of the dance floor. The waltz was not as scandalous as it had once been, Clarissa knew, but there were still rules. And she had agreed to dance both waltzes with Anders. Had that been wise?

  Then the music began, and Anders pulled her a little closer and into the first turn, and she forgot all her worr
ies. She had danced the waltz before, of course, but only in practice with Cynthia in secret in her room where her father could not see them. She had never danced it with a man, and the experience was quite different. She was not even thinking about the steps. “You waltz divinely,” she said breathlessly.

  “I know,” he replied, grinning. “You didn’t think I had any talents besides politics, did you?”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “I know you have other skills.”

  His eyes bored into her. “Just wait until I really get a chance to demonstrate my...skills.”

  Clarissa was suddenly very aware of the length of his hard, lean body pressed against hers. She felt herself beginning to flush. “I think I’ve already broken enough rules, don’t you?”

  “I hope not.”

  The dance was over quickly, and Anders led Clarissa in to supper, where they joined Lord Sidney and Eleanor. Lady Sidney was sitting with her friends at a different table, and from the light gleaming in their eyes Clarissa sensed that the really thrilling gossip, the news she as an unmarried woman would never be permitted to hear, was being exchanged. When Leo and Anders had gone off to fill plates, Eleanor grinned and took Clarissa’s hand.

  “Those pearls are divine,” she said.

  Clarissa blushed. “They were a gift from Lord Stowe,” she said.

  Eleanor’s eyes widened. “So you are engaged, then?”

  “No,” Clarissa admitted. “I know I shouldn’t have accepted them when we are not betrothed, but...well, I have never owned pearls.”

  “Of course you should have them,” Eleanor insisted. “They become you so beautifully. And don’t worry—I won’t tell a soul about them. But I hope...” she paused, biting her lip delicately. “Please, Clarissa, don’t be offended by this: I hope you are not allowing Anders to court you simply because of his wealth.”

  Clarissa felt her flush deepening. “I assure you, I am not,” she said. “And I’m not in the least offended. I’m flattered by your concern.”

  “Good.”

  But then something occurred to Clarissa. “Are you asking because you’ve heard something? Are people saying I’m chasing him for his money?”

  “Oh, no!” Eleanor cried. “Nothing of the sort! I just...well, I think of you as a friend, and I worry about you.”

  “That’s very kind,” Clarissa said, but her attention had been drawn back to the table where Lady Sidney and her friends were sitting. They were still looking rather obviously right at Clarissa. And then one of them rose and started towards her. As she drew nearer, Clarissa recognized her. It was Mrs. Coleridge, Anders’s mother.

  Resplendent in deep red satin, Mrs. Coleridge came to a stop before the table where Eleanor and Clarissa sat. Both young women leaped to their feet just as Anders and Lord Sidney returned.

  “Mother,” Anders said, setting down the plates he carried and kissing his mother warmly on the cheek. “You remember Lady Eleanor Chesney?”

  “Of course, dear,” Mrs. Coleridge said, smiling and taking Eleanor’s hand. Her eyes, which were the same deep gray as her sons, were still fixed on Clarissa.

  “And this is Miss Clarissa Martin,” Anders said, his voice sounding as though the last thing in the world he wanted was for Clarissa to be meeting his mother this way.

  Mrs. Coleridge came around the table, hands out, but when Clarissa moved to take them, the older woman embraced her instead. “My dear girl,” she said, kissing Clarissa’s cheek. “It is so lovely to meet you.”

  All around them, people had stopped eating and talking and were not even pretending that they weren’t hanging on every word of the conversation taking place between Clarissa and the woman they all suspected was her future mother-in-law—or if they hadn’t suspected it before, Clarissa thought, they did now.

  “It is an honor, Mrs. Coleridge,” she said. Over her shoulder, she saw Anders grinning from ear to ear, clearly appreciating the irony of the situation in a way Clarissa found she was not quite able to do.

  Mrs. Coleridge smiled. “Anders has told me so much about you. I have been longing to make your acquaintance. You must come to tea some day soon.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Coleridge. It would be my pleasure.”

  “Good. Good.” And, with a final squeeze of Clarissa’s hand and a fond look at her son, Mrs. Coleridge swept back across the room to her friends.

  Clarissa sank into her chair. Her face felt as if it was on fire. Anders slid a plate in front of her, but she knew she would not be able to swallow a morsel. She stared at the food until the music sounded to announce the end of supper. Clarissa followed the others back into the ballroom, feeling a thousand eyes upon her. But then the man who had claimed her hand for the first dance after supper appeared at her side, and she had no more time to think about the net tightening around her.

  After supper, Anders barely saw Clarissa. She was claimed by one partner after another, and when he finally tracked her down before the second waltz, she was sitting on a bench by the tall, narrow doors that led out to the garden. She looked rather flushed.

  “I’m not used to such exertion,” she admitted.

  “Let’s go out onto the terrace, then,” he said, offering his arm. She took it, but looked worried. “Don’t trouble yourself. There will be plenty of people out there, even though the evening is cool. It’s quite warm in this room.” Besides, he desperately needed to talk to her somewhere where there weren’t quite so many people.

  The night air was refreshing, and Anders breathed deeply once they were outside. He had always disliked balls, largely because there was nowhere to escape from the suffocating crowds. He had gone to the drawing room for some time before supper and had found it equally packed, though he and Lord Brougham had managed to exchange a few words. The Earl of Granville had also been there, though Anders had heard he was returning to France any day. But Granville had enquired politely about Clarissa.

  “I hear you’ve been seen about with her a great deal,” he had said conspiratorially.

  “You hear correctly,” Anders admitted, seeing no reason to hide his preference.

  “You’d be smart to snap the girl up, Stowe,” Brougham put in. “Her father was a genius, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she’d inherited it from him.”

  “She’d give you some fine sons,” Granville put in without a trace of embarrassment. “Young Parliamentarians for the Stowe line.”

  Anders was sure he was turning rather red. “Thank you for that advice, My Lords,” he said, and he excused himself and went to seek Clarissa out for their waltz.

  But all through supper he could think of nothing but what Brougham and Granville had said. The ladies of the ton could not imagine that he wanted Clarissa for her mind, but to the peers of the House of Lords, Clarissa was the daughter of a man they had universally respected and whose mind had been greatly admired.

  There were worse reasons, he supposed, for people to suppose a man had taken a bride.

  And now, after what had happened at supper, everything Granville had said had been confirmed, and those who had assumed that there was an unspoken promise between him and Clarissa had had confirmation of their suspicions, and those who had not had been given clear evidence to persuade them that a wedding was imminent.

  There were others on the terrace, and so he took Clarissa’s hand and pulled her a little further from the house. They went to the edge of the terrace where they would not be observed and looked out over the sleeping garden.

  “My mother,” he said when he had worked up enough courage.

  She frowned. “Your mother,” she said.

  “I’m so sorry, Clarissa. I had no idea she meant to do that.”

  “Please, don’t worry. I’m sure she didn’t do any harm. Everyone already suspected there was something between us, and now she has lent it her approval. If anything, it bolsters my reputation.”

  He allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. Indeed, now that the worry that had been tying his stomach into knots was r
elieved, he felt a little light-headed.

  “I had no idea it would be like this,” Clarissa was saying.

  He turned his attention back to her. “Like what?”

  “So wonderful and terrifying at the same time. I could never have imagined how much my life would change so short a time. Do you realize that it has been only a little more than two weeks since I came to Stowe House?”

  “I do,” he said. “I have been counting the days carefully.”

  She smiled. “So have I, and each day has been more colorful than the last.” She turned to him. “You have brought such light to my gray world.”

  Anders couldn’t resist. He looked about to make sure no one could see them and then he took her in his arms and kissed her. Somehow—Lord knew how—he managed to restrain himself, though the image of her with her shirt and waistcoat unbuttoned as she lay atop his desk was in the forefront of his mind.

  He had no idea how long they stood together like that, but he was drawn out of his stupor by the sound of someone clearing his throat behind them. They broke apart quickly, and Anders whirled to see Leo standing on the terrace.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” his friend said.

  Anders breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad it’s only you,” he admitted.

  “Mama would like to retire for the evening,” Leo said.

  Anders looked down at Clarissa. “Have you promised any more dances?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good. Let’s go, then.”

  When the Sidney carriage had dropped them at Stowe House, Anders called for his own carriage immediately. Then he took Clarissa inside to wait.

  “It was a wonderful evening,” she said, unsure what else to say.

  “Yes,” he agreed, sounding equally awkward. She knew that he felt as chastened as she. If it had been anyone other than Leo on the terrace, it would have been a disaster.

  Fortunately, a footman appeared and saved them from any more awkwardness. “Thank you for the pearls,” Clarissa said as Anders handed her into the carriage.