Authors: Lynsay Sands
"But.. ." Clarissa began only to be shushed by Joan, who rushed her through the ballroom and out of it. The maid didn't let her speak until they were in the hall, when Clarissa was allowed to whisper, "But this was not the gown I was wearing when I spilled punch at the
Brudmans
' ball."
"I know, my lady," her maid admitted, "but Lady
Crambray
has a bad memory, and I needed to get you out of there."
"Why?" Clarissa asked with surprise.
"Because there is a boy at the door with a message for you, and he will not give it to anyone but you."
"Oh," Clarissa said. "I wonder what it is?"
"I do not know, my lady. But it was just fortunate I happened to be passing the door on the way upstairs, else
Ffoulkes
might have answered, and then your stepmother would know."
Clarissa grimaced.
Ffoulkes
was very proper and upright, and would certainly have informed Lydia. With Clarissa's luck, it would be a message from Adrian and she would never have known what it was, because Lydia would have snatched the letter and burned it right in front of her.
"Do you think it is from Adrian?" she asked Joan hopefully. She hadn't seen him since the night of the
Devereauxs
' ball, a week ago, and all she'd been able to think of was how he'd treated her to a picnic and then kissed her. She'd been missing him terribly.
"I do not know, my lady, but if it is, you must tell him
not to send messages like that. Tell him to send the boy to me in future. It will not raise eyebrows if a poor boy brings
me
a message. I can claim he is my little brother."
"Do you have a little brother?" Clarissa asked curiously as they approached the front door.
"No," Joan admitted. "I have no family at all anymore."
"I am sorry," Clarissa murmured, but they reached the door, and Joan merely shrugged and opened it to reveal a small boy of perhaps six on the front stoop.
"Here she is," Joan said, gesturing to Clarissa. "Now, give us the message."
The boy peered up at Clarissa, his eyes huge in a dirty face. He pulled something from inside his shirt and held it out. "I was told I'd get a coin for me trouble."
"Oh." Clarissa stared, nonplussed, and then turned to Joan. "My coin purse is up in my room."
"Here." Joan dug a small bag out of the folds of her skirt and handed over the money. "Off with you now."
"Thank you, Joan," Clarissa said as the maid closed the door. "Take a coin from my change purse to replace it."
"I would not presume to go into your purse, my lady," Joan murmured, then glanced up the hall as
Ffoulkes
appeared and started to walk toward them.
Taking the note from Clarissa, the maid tucked it between them as she took her lady's arm to lead her to the stairs, saying loudly, "Come, we had best take care of getting you changed, my lady."
Clarissa waited until they got to her room to open the message and try to read it. Of course, she couldn't read a darned thing without her spectacles, so Joan took it from her to read.
"It says, 'Meet me at the fountain.'
'Tis
signed, 'A.M.'"
"A.M.? It is Adrian," Clarissa said happily.
"You must tell him to send the messages to me from now on," Joan reminded her with worry. "If
Ffoulkes
had got this and given it to your stepmother..."
'Yes," Clarissa agreed, then glanced around with surprise as the maid herded her to the door. "Should I not change first?"
"After," Joan said firmly. "If I change you now and he wrinkles your gown as he did last time, I shall just have to change you again."
"Oh, yes, of course," Clarissa said, but she was blushing at how her gown had gotten wrinkled the last time. He might kiss her again, she realized, and she felt her toes curl up in her shoes at the very idea.
Joan walked her down to the main floor using the servants' stairwell, checked to be sure the hallway was empty, then hustled her out the French doors in the dining room to avoid guests or staff. Stopping at the door, die maid turned to her. "Can you make it from here?"
'Yes." Clarissa nodded. One of the advantages of the town house was that she knew her way around it and its grounds pretty well. She was certain she could make her way to the fountain without assistance.
"Good, then I shall wait here to sneak you back upstairs. It will give the two of you some privacy," Joan said. At the last moment she added, "Be careful."
"I will," Clarissa assured her, but could hear the frown in Joan's voice as the servant replied.
"Maybe I should come with you. You could—"
"No, no," Clarissa said quickly. "I shall be fine. And I will try to hurry."
"No, take your time. I do not want you rushing and hurting yourself," Joan insisted, then opened the door and urged her out.
Clarissa slid through the door and made her way quickly but carefully toward where she knew the path would be that led down to the clearing with the fountain. She found the path easily enough and hurried along, excited at the prospect of seeing Adrian. It seemed so long. Lydia had canceled all their outings this past week and had refused any and all visitors. No matter who approached,
Ffoulkes
had answered the door with the announcement that the ladies
Crambray
were not in to visitors. Clarissa wasn't sure if it was meant as a punishment, or intentionally to keep her from Adrian, but in the end the result was the same: she hadn't seen him in a week.
Clarissa had been surprised to find that Lydia refused even to see Lady
Havard
and Lady
Achard
. The three women had been inseparable before this. It was more suggestion that Lydia had been having an affair with
Prudhomme
as she'd suspected, and that she was now refusing to see any of them out of humiliation.
Clarissa saw the blurry shape of the fountain ahead, and picked up speed in her eagerness to reach it and see Adrian. And then ...
crash.
She didn't see the branch she ran into. Light exploded inside her head, along with pain, and Clarissa stumbled forward several
feet and felt herself falling.
When next she opened her eyes, it was to an anxious voice calling her name over and over. It took a moment for her to realize it was Adrian. Blinking, Clarissa winced as pain made an appearance. It was no little headache type of pain either, but a serious hammering along the front of her forehead. Clarissa quickly closed her eyes again.
"Oh, thank God," Adrian murmured by her ear, and she thought she felt him press a kiss to her brow.
"Adrian?" She forced her eyes open again. His face was dark above her, but almost in focus for a change.
"Are you all right?" he asked. "When I found you in the fountain, I thought you were dead."
"In the fountain?" Clarissa asked with confusion, and frowned as she raised a hand to touch his face. Water dripped down her arm. "Why am I wet?"
'You were in the fountain," Adrian repeated— slowly, as if the reduced speed might make it easier for her to comprehend. He eased her to an almost upright position in his arms. "How are you? Are you seeing double or anything?"
"I do not think so." She forced herself to sit up fully and take her own weight, then peered around the darkness surrounding them. She could see enough to know they were right beside the fountain. Adrian was wet, too, and she supposed it had happened when he'd pulled her out.
She turned to peer at the fountain, knowing exactly how it looked despite her blindness. The edifice had stood as long as she could recall, it being her favorite spot as a child. It was huge around the base, but really quite shallow, with perhaps a foot and a half to two feet of water. Enough to drown in, she supposed. "I was
in
the fountain?" she echoed.
'Yes."
"What was I doing there?" she asked with confusion.
"Floating," Adrian said. "I thought you'd fallen in and drowned."
"Fallen in." She recalled hurrying out to meet him, running into the branch and then crashing forward. . . . She must have stumbled into the fountain,
Clarissa realized with a frown. Then she decided it was good she hadn't changed into a clean dress after all.
"I got the shock of my life when I saw you lying there," Adrian continued grimly. "What were you doing? How did you end up in there?"
"I was coming to meet you, as you asked, but hit my head on a branch. I remember falling forward before I blacked out, but. . ." Clarissa frowned, then shook her head. "I must have stumbled."
"Meet me?" Adrian asked.
She frowned at the surprise in his voice. 'Yes, I got your letter. I—"
"My lady?"
They both turned to peer at the dark shape that hurried down the path toward them. "I am sorry to intrude, but your mother is asking after you. We must go, my lady. I have to get you changed and ..." There was a pause; then Joan asked with alarm, "What have you done to your dress?"
"
'Tis
all right, Joan. I fear I had a little spill," Clarissa said. Adrian helped her to her feet.
"Oh! I knew I should have accompanied you." The maid shook her head, sounding exasperated as she added, "I shall insist next time. Now, come, we have to go."
"I have to go," Clarissa echoed apologetically as Joan began to tug her away. "I am sorry we did not get the chance to talk, my lord. I came as quickly as I could in response to your note. Perhaps we will meet again soon."
"Note?" Adrian frowned as the pair disappeared down the dark trail and back through the woods to the house. He hadn't sent any note. But it was possible
Reginald had found it impossible to talk to Clarissa alone, and slipped her one. Adrian had asked his cousin to approach her as soon as he arrived, and to ask her to meet him here by the fountain. This was the only place Adrian had known to suggest for a meeting to take place. He'd never seen the
Crambray
home, inside or out, but Clarissa had mentioned the fountain during their picnic at the
Devereauxs
' ball. She'd thought that the
Devereauxs
could do with a fountain just like it.
Sighing, Adrian turned to peer at the structure. He could understand why Clarissa liked it; most peaceful it was to stand and listen to the soothing sound of water. Mind, it hadn't been nearly so peaceful when Clarissa's body had been floating within.
Adrian shuddered and ran his hands over his face to wipe away the memory. It was the very last thing he'd expected to find after climbing over the back gate and into the yard. His whole plan had been born of desperation. It had been a week since he'd seen Clarissa and shared a first kiss. He had gone home that night feeling on top of the world. His plan had worked beautifully. The picnic had been a great success. She had been pleased. The kiss had been a wonderful bonus. Adrian hadn't intended to take such liberties, but she'd stood there, her eyes glowing with happiness in the moonlight, her lips a soft curve as beautiful and velvety-looking as the petals of a rose, and he hadn't been able to help himself. He'd wanted to sip of that glowing happiness curving her lips.
Once he'd kissed her, however, Adrian had realized the mistake he'd made. She was soft and warm and melted into him like butter dissolving into toast, and he'd wanted to do much more than kiss her. That was
why he'd made himself end the kiss so soon. He'd left the
Devereauxs
' feeling both excited and eager to see her again.
Adrian had made many plans since on how best to separate her from her stepmother at future balls, to get her alone to read to her or maybe dance in the gardens, or picnic again, or perhaps even kiss. He'd enlisted his mother's aid, both of his cousins, and even some of their friends to prepare for the opportunity. But it was all to no avail. Clarissa and her stepmother hadn't attended a single ball since.
Adrian had even finally hired a man to find out what they were doing that might keep them away from balls, to find any information that he might exploit to see her. However, it appeared they'd been doing nothing. Neither woman had left the house this whole last week. It would have concerned Adrian greatly, except his man had learned by bribing a staff member or two that neither lady was ill; Lady
Crambray
had simply canceled attendance of all balls and refused all visitors. Even Reginald had been turned away when Adrian had talked him into trying to collect Clarissa for another ride through the park.
Adrian had feared that Lady
Crambray
somehow found out about their little picnic, and he had become sure of it when
Prudhomme
made a sarcastic comment to him at one of the balls he'd attended. And so, the moment Adrian heard about the ball her stepmother planned, he'd come up with a scheme to get to speak to Clarissa.
While he hadn't been invited to the ball, and neither had Adrian's mother or his cousin Mary, nor even Reginald, one of Reginald's friends had, and Reginald had accompanied that friend tonight. His
sole purpose in coming had been to send Clarissa out here to meet with Adrian, who would climb the back gate, find die fountain, and wait for her there. Adrian had left home early, intending to be waiting long before Reginald arrived to send Clarissa out, and so he had been shocked to arrive at the fountain to find her floating in it. He'd thought his heart would stop at the sight of her slight body floating in the shallow water, her gown and hair billowing about her in the moonlight.