Never Surrender to a Scoundrel

by Lily Dalton

  “Nonsense, Miss Joyce, you’ll come with me. It’s a temporary position, but perhaps by the time Miss Randolph returns to serve as my lady’s maid, we’ll have found something permanent for you as well.”

  Miss Joyce’s face brightened. “Truly? You’re willing to take a chance on me? How very generous. Thank you. I’m grateful for even a temporary position. Time spent in the service of the Earl of Wolverton will be quite the feather in my cap and would improve the quality of positions I can attract in the future.” The woman relaxed back into her seat and sighed. “What a relief it would be not to have to present myself to my poor father for support. He has such a small pension and can barely tend to himself. I do have a letter of recommendation from my deceased employer’s son, which I can give to the housekeeper.”

  “Then the matter is settled.”

  The driver kindly delivered them to Camellia House’s door. Outside the carriage, Philip took possession of her small bag, advising the Duke of Claxton’s footmen he would deliver it personally to her room.

  Miss Joyce inquired of the footmen as to the location of the servants’ entrance and set off right away, after indicating she would follow proper protocol and introduce herself to the housekeeper, Mrs. Branigan.

  Clarissa entered the house and removed her bonnet.

  “You’re here! What an unexpected and wonderful surprise,” Sophia exclaimed, rushing into the vestibule, her arms wide. They embraced, and Clarissa gave her sister’s very round stomach an affectionate pat. “Claxton told us there was no hope of you coming whatsoever. I’m so glad he was wrong.”

  “Look at you!” cried Clarissa.

  Sophia did the same. “Look at you. You’re increasing as well.”

  Daphne joined them, her expression transforming from lively to crestfallen in an instant. “Oh, Clarissa. I’m so sorry. What did that blackguard do to you? Come, let’s go inside, somewhere private, and you can tell us all about it.”

  Lady Margaretta swept out from the great room to embrace her. “She doesn’t have to tell you or any of us anything if she doesn’t want to. Give her some privacy and some time.”

  Clarissa pulled back to smile at them. “I don’t need any time or privacy. Blackmer and I are very happy. I’ve just come for a visit. He’ll join me as soon as he can.”

  Her mother exhaled in relief. “That’s wonderful to hear.”

  “Come inside.” Sophia led her into the cavernous great room, which Clarissa was surprised to find full of people she knew. “Everyone, look who has arrived. My sister, Lady Blackmer.”

  “What’s the occasion?” Clarissa asked, delighted to see so many familiar faces.

  Sophia answered. “I’ll be confined soon, so I decided to throw a small house party before then so everyone could see the house now that it’s been repaired. Some guests are just here for the day, while others have yet to arrive.”

  “It’s lovely.” Camellia House, though built in the time of Elizabeth, smelled clean and fresh and new. After a fire last Christmas nearly destroyed a third of the sprawling manse, the Duke and Duchess of Claxton had undertaken measures to return the property to all its prior glory.

  Daphne touched Clarissa’s arm. “Claxton and Raikes are in the garden with some of the gentlemen, talking seeds and hybrids and such. I’m going to go and let them know you’re here. They’ll want to come inside to greet you as well. You stay here and give Grandfather a kiss. He’s sitting just over there. Do you see? He’s missed you terribly.”

  She looked in the direction her sister indicated, toward a small alcove on the far side of the large room, and saw Lord Raikes’s mother and father sitting with Wolverton, who appeared even thinner than before—but well, with robust color in his cheeks. All read books or newspapers and remained oblivious to her arrival. Little Michael sat between them, dressed in a suit like a little man, playing with a pair of soldiers.

  Her grandfather. Yes! She could not wait to see him, and tell him how well her marriage to Blackmer had turned out, and to thank him for his part in ensuring her happiness. But as she approached, Michael leapt up and barreled toward her.

  “Michael!” Clarissa called to him, opening her arms.

  How he’d grown, in just their brief time apart! Vinson and Laura would have been so proud. He climbed down and ran to her.

  “Auntie!” he cried.

  She caught him up and squeezed him, pressing a kiss on his cheek. He smelled so good, like little-boy skin and soap and, yes, a recent peppermint.

  Wolverton reached a wrinkled hand for her. “Come and give me a kiss too, my dear.”

  Clarissa did so, relieved that he looked at her with the same old unabashed affection he always had, even after the circumstances in which they had last parted.

  She bent to kiss him. “I’m so glad to see you well. I’ve been so worried about you.”

  “I am feeling so much better. My dear, where is Blackmer?” His gray eyebrows raised. “I must speak privately with him. With you both.”

  Michael wiggled to be set down, and after went to the windowsill where he scrutinized several toy soldiers and cannons there, and repositioned them.

  “He did not come with me. It will only be a week before he joins us, I hope.”

  “Are you well?” the old man asked, his eyes intent and concerned.

  “Better than well, Grandfather. I’m very happy.”

  He closed his eyes and smiled, clasping her hands in his. “He is a…good man.”

  “He is more than I could ever have hoped.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I…acted as best I could, given the situation, though even I did not realize the marriage would come at so great a personal expense for him.”

  “Yes, he lost his…diplomatic assignment. It was difficult for a time, but I think he has recovered from that disappointment.”

  “I pray so.”

  “Grandfather, he did ask that I give you a letter.” Clarissa opened her reticule and presented him with the folded parchment.

  Wolverton stared down at the letter in his hand and traced his finger over the wax seal. Clarissa saw him break the seal after Sophia appeared again to steal her away so that she could say hello to additional guests.

  Everyone greeted her and wished her well on her recent wedding. In the vestibule, there came the sounds of additional guests arriving. Sophia broke away to welcome them.

  “Where is this Lord Blackmer?” asked Sir Keyes, her grandfather’s longtime and equally elderly friend. “I’d like to meet him.”

  His affianced, the tiny but always smiling dowager Countess of Dundalk, looked behind her. “Don’t tell me he didn’t accompany you.”

  Clarissa feared she would have to answer the question a thousand times. “He did not. He has business to attend to and will join me later.”

  Sophia returned in the company of the new arrivals. “I believe everyone here knows Lady Quinn—”

  Clarissa’s eyes flew open in shock, seeing the former Emily FitzKnightley. She felt not one bit of ill will or jealousy toward the young lady, but she realized her presence might also come with that of her husband, someone Clarissa would be happy never to see again.

  “And her mother, Mrs. FitzKnightley.”

  A glance across the room showed Wolverton’s lips turned into a deep scowl, his eyes ablaze with fury. As discreetly as possible, Clarissa lifted a calming hand to him.

  Sophia returned to her side, murmuring out of the side of her mouth, “I don’t know them very well, but Claxton’s trying to convince the Duke of Lowther to change his way of thinking about a few things before Parliament goes back into session. They can’t seem to agree on anything.”

  Clarissa didn’t have to wait long to confirm her fear about Lord Quinn’s presence because he entered the room at precisely that moment. Her heart sank, and she struggled to keep her expression blasé. Dominick had proven himself to be the most honorable of men. Quinn, in contrast, made her skin crawl.

  “Ah, Miss Bevington,” Qui
nn said, his eyes fixed warmly on her. “What a wonderful surprise to see you.”

  “Lady Blackmer,” she corrected him. “I am Lady Blackmer now, if you will recall.”

  “That’s right. I forgot. The Earl of Blackmer. Where is he?” He surveyed the room. “Not here? That’s too bad.”

  The heat in his eyes intensified, and her blood went cold.

  “It is very nice seeing you,” she replied coolly. To Sophia, she said, “I’m very weary. Would you mind if I went to my room?”

  “Of course you are weary. I recall in the early days of my pregnancy I was so tired all the time. Now I’m full of energy. Mother says I’m nesting. You’ll do it too!”

  Sophia led Clarissa toward the staircase. In the distance, away from everyone, she spied Wolverton speaking to his valet, O’Connell.

  “What was that your sister said?” inquired Lord Quinn, following along behind. Clarissa cringed, hearing his voice. “Are congratulations in order for you as well?”

  Sophia paused and, turning, replied, “My apologies, Lord Quinn, I should not have spoken so familiarly in the presence of those who are not family, but I suppose it is no secret. My sister, like me, is happily expecting.”

  His gaze fell to her stomach. “That’s…wonderful news. Your husband must be thrilled.”

  “He is indeed.”

  “Well, then.” He paused, staring into her eyes far too probingly. “Emily and I extend our congratulations. Hopefully she and I will be able to share the same happy news soon as well.”

  Upstairs, Clarissa spied Philip positioned at the far end of the corridor, wearing the distinctive red Stade livery.

  To Sophia, she said, “I hope you don’t mind. Blackmer sent Philip to attend to me.”

  “I appreciate that. I’m afraid I’ve stretched our small staff to their limits with this number of guests.”

  “I’ve also a lady’s maid, Miss Joyce.”

  “We’ve rooms for them both in the attic. I’ll speak with Mrs. Branigan to ensure they’re included in the staff count.”

  In the privacy of her room, Clarissa did her best to put Quinn from her mind, praying his stay at Camellia House would not be long. She napped and dreamed of Blackmer, a dream so pleasant she did not want to awaken when Daphne shook her gently and told her it was time to dress for supper.

  Clarissa considered claiming weariness, so that she might pass the evening in her room. But she would not allow Lord Quinn to ruin this time with her family. Miss Joyce appeared, along with servants carrying water for a bath, and did a fine job of dressing her and styling her hair before she returned downstairs.

  She might as well have stayed in her room. Despite her efforts to discreetly rebuff him, her former lover constantly gravitated to her side. Supper turned out to be a two-hour-long miserable affair, with her seated between Quinn and his father the duke—and Wolverton scowling at all of them.

  After dinner she stayed close to Lady Quinn because it was the only place where Quinn seemed reluctant to follow her. She wasn’t surprised to learn she liked Emily. She could only feel sympathy that the girl had married such a lout. Thank heavens she had not. She missed Blackmer so much.

  At last, she excused herself and made her way to her room, only to see a door open to the chamber next door, and Philip inside, crouched beside the bed and reaching under.

  Sir Keyes crouched there too—as well as his aged legs would allow.

  “Do you see them?” he said.

  “Have you lost something?” she inquired from the door, drawing Sir Keyes’s attention.

  “Hello, Daphne,” he replied cheerfully.

  She corrected him, with a smile. “It’s Clarissa.”

  “My apologies, dear.” He chuckled and tapped his cheek. “Just my spectacles.”

  “I see them, sir,” said Philip, flattening himself against the floor.

  “I’m so glad. Good night then,” she said, and went onto her room.

  She had only just shut her door behind her when the door opened again.

  Quinn entered and quickly shut the door, turning the key.

  “What are you doing here?” Clarissa backed away, alarm spearing up inside her. “Get out of my room this instant.”

  “I needed to see you alone and tell you I’ve been so miserable with Emily. It’s because I’m still in love with you.” He moved toward her.

  His words only annoyed her. “You never loved me. If you did, you wouldn’t have married someone else after—after—” She gritted her teeth. “It doesn’t matter anymore because I’m married now, and I’m very happy. Please leave.”

  Quinn’s smile turned cruel. “You’re putting on a good show about being a sweet and dutiful wife, but there’s no need. I know you. You’re just like me. Adventurous. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t have had your innocence on that garden bench.”

  Clarissa gasped in outrage, hating him in that instant. “I was innocent and believed you loved me. It would never have happened otherwise.”

  “I did love you,” he replied angrily. “And I love you still. If only you’d let me show you.”

  “I said, get out of my room,” Clarissa insisted, pointing to the door.

  He slowly shook his head. “Not until you kiss me, and then look in my eyes and say you don’t feel anything.”

  He stalked toward her.

  “I’m going to scream,” she threatened. “Everyone will come.”

  “I don’t think you will,” he said, his gaze growing sharper and his lips turning into a snarl. “Because if you do, I’ll tell them all that the baby you’re carrying is—”

  “Mine,” a man’s voice interrupted.

  Whirling around, Clarissa saw the figure of a man in the shadows at the far corner of the room. Blackmer emerged, wearing boots and breeches and a white linen shirt, open at the throat. His hair was tousled, and his skin looked flushed from hours of riding.

  She got chills just from looking at him. He had never been more handsome, or more commanding. She rushed to his side, and he pulled her to stand just behind him, in the shelter of his shoulder. She clasped his arm, binding her hands around the muscle. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, savoring his scent through his shirt.

  Quinn laughed sharply. His eyes gleamed with displeasure. “I suppose you will…want to call me out now, or challenge me to a duel and bring scandal down upon us all?”

  “Sorry to say, Quinn, I play a dirtier game than that,” Dominick said matter-of-factly. “You’ve threatened the wrong man’s wife.”

  “You’re just talk.”

  “Be assured I’m not,” Blackmer answered, his voice hushed. “Do you know who I am?”

  Quinn sneered. “No one knows anything about you, which says a lot because if I and my friends don’t know you…you’re no one.”

  Dominick shrugged. “And yet I know a lot of things about you. I also know a lot about your father.”

  Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, you know things?”

  “Delicious, wicked things.” He smiled dangerously. “For instance, I know what happened in Italy last summer.”

  Lord Quinn went rigid, and his face paled.

  Blackmer said, “Would you like me to tell you what I know?”

  “That’s blackmail,” he growled.

  “Blackmail? No, I’d call it what you deserve.”

  “I’m going to go now.” Quinn backed toward the door.

  “So soon?” Blackmer teased darkly. Dangerously. “You only just arrived, and we have so much to talk about. In fact, why don’t we summon your father, the duke, as well, and perhaps the Duke of Claxton? Wolverton also might wish to hear what I have to say.”

  Quinn froze, and shook his head. “I don’t agree. We have nothing to talk about. Nothing at all.”

  “Quinn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t ever speak to my wife again. Don’t even look at her. If she tells me you have, I’ll find you, and I’ll do far more than talk. I’ll make you sorry to be ali
ve. Do you understand?”

  Quinn’s head jerked in a nod. He unlocked the door, tore it open then escaped into the corridor as if the hounds of hell snapped at his heels.

  Clarissa spun away from Blackmer and stared at him.

  He blinked, but an impenetrable blackness lingered, something she’d never seen in his eyes before. It was a weapon, she realized, just as deadly as a pistol or knife, and one that he’d been competent using in his former life. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

  “You did frighten me for a moment.” She bit her bottom lip. “But I liked it.”

  His lip turned up at the corner. “You did?”

  She bit her lip and giggled. “Am I a terrible woman for being entertained by that? I’ve don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more impressive.” She moved toward him, taking one of his hands in hers. “Seeing you like that was very…revealing. Breathtaking, actually.”

  “How so?”

  “I find I like being married to a very dangerous man.”

  The tautness of his shoulders eased. The blackness in his gaze faded, to be replaced by gentleness.

  “I’m only dangerous where you are concerned.” He touched her chin and drew his thumb along her cheek. “And our child.”

  Emotion swept through her, overpowering and sweet.

  “I missed you so much.” She went up on her toes, kissing him on the mouth, before asking, “What happened in Italy?”

  He drew away to look down into her face. “O’Connell knows about Quinn. He shared a bit of intelligence with me before I came upstairs. I had no idea at the time it would become so valuable.”

  “I’m so glad he betrayed me. Or else I wouldn’t have you.”

  They indulged in another long, lingering kiss.

  “I want to take you downstairs and share you with everyone,” she said, tugging at his hands.

  “I want to keep you here and share you with no one.”

  “Blackmer.” Clarissa stepped back, still holding his hands. “Why are you even here? You had to have departed Darthaven just hours after I left.”