Darrington 01 - Marriage Minded Lord (16 page)

“Of course not, don’t be daft.” Olivia strode to her
desk and grabbed a slip of paper from the top. “I’m in desperate need of a few items for my ensemble. The Amherst party is in five days and I simply will not have time to procure these things. My schedule is rather busy this week with accompanying Father about town.”

Clarice bit her bottom lip to keep her smart mouth silent. It wouldn’t do to antagonize her
employer further.

“Please
procure the items on the list, and be sure you start at the glove shop. I want a pair of fine lace ones plus the owner is holding a pair in ivory kid for me, but if they aren’t acquired by noon, he’ll put them back for sale.” She thrust the paper scrap into Clarice’s hand. “Well, don’t just stand there. Go!”

An hour later, Clarice stood at the counter of an exclusive shop, waiting on the clerk to
wrap the two pairs of gloves Lady Drummond requested. The crush of women in the small confines sent waves of heat and a myriad of odors sailing into her. Perfume, powder and sweat accosted her nostrils, and she held her handkerchief to her nose to combat the worse of it. Every time her arm or back was jostled, it set off a host of pain throughout her body. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the clerk handed her a small box bearing the scripted name of the shop.

“Thank you.” She retreated to a cabinet near the back of the shop. She’d seen a nice pair of lace gloves that might compliment the gown she planned to wear—if she could afford them. Most likely, she’d have to try a shop that didn’t cater to the titled set.

As a new swell of ladies entered, Clarice stepped into the path of another woman, bumping her arm. “Oh,
excusez-moi
,” she murmured. She lifted her gaze and connected with a pair of brilliant blue eyes that immediately put her in mind of Felix.
How curious.
Before meeting Lord Swandon, she’d never seen such intense eyes and now, here was another pair.

“Think nothing of it.” The woman, probably around her own age, smiled which set her eyes dancing. Dark red hair peeked from beneath the brim of a green velvet-trimmed bonnet. “Quite a mad crush here.”

“Yes, it is.” Clarice clutched the box in one hand and fingered a pair of gloves with the other. “So pretty but too expensive,” she whispered. Knowing she had a wealth of errands still to run for Lady Drummond, she resigned herself to the fact that she’d need to darn a pair of her old gloves sometime before the party.

The woman beside her held up an exquisite pair of elbow length gray kid gloves so thin they’d undoubtedly fit like a second skin. “Pardon me, but do you find these at all attractive, or would a different color be best?”

Clarice turned toward her. “They are very pretty and would flatter your complexion.”

“Hmm.” She held them nearer to Clarice’s face. “Actually, they’d look much better on someone with your coloring.” A faint smile tipped up one side of her mouth.

How extraordinary. She reminds me of Felix at every turn.
Tact never being her strong suit, Clarice laid a hand on the redhead’s arm. “Forgive me for being so forward, but would you happen to be a relation of Felix, er, I mean Lord Swandon? You strongly put me in mind of him.”

The other woman’s grin widened. She laid the pair of gloves down. “I’m his sister, Charlotte, and you must be Miss Delacroix. Felix has mentioned you
many times.”

“Oh?” Her heart lurched and her cheeks warmed. He’d talked to his sister about her? That could either be good or bad. “I’d love to know in what context, but I’ll try to hold my tongue.” After all, she didn’t know his sister and she certainly wasn’t a contemporary who could gossip.

“I have a feeling you and I will get along famously.” The other woman chuckled and linked her arm with Clarice’s. “Please, call me Charlotte. Let’s go outside where we can chat in a more private venue.” Once they both had moved outside and strolled along Bond Street, Charlotte continued, “Are you attending the Amherst to-do?”

“Yes.
” Clarice nodded. “Lady Drummond received our invite not long ago, and acted as if it was a bit of a surprise.” At the last second she tempered her enthusiasm and the urge to babble. What if Charlotte wasn’t as friendly as her brother? “It would seem that neither Lady Drummond nor the Earl of Wynesford had ever been issued an invitation to the duke’s residence before.”

“Isn’t that interesting,” Charlotte murmured. “The rascal manipulated things.”

“Is, um, Felix attending as well?” She couldn’t help asking after him. Ever since the heated kiss they’d shared in the Darrington kitchen, he’d not been far from her mind. Even now, the remembrance of that kiss helped her ignore her aches.

Charlotte nodded. “Absolutely
he is. In fact, he had declined all invitations originally, but when he discovered this one was for Amherst, he agreed to attend with Mother and me two weeks ago. His original plan had been to escort Lady Drummond, but I guess he changed his mind.” She patted Clarice’s hand. “My brother doesn’t enjoy parties or social functions of any kind so I was quite baffled as to his change of attitude.”

“Two weeks ago? That’s when Lady Drummond received her invite. It had both our names on the envelope.” She remembered because Olivia had not been best pleased about that development
, but someone had publicly included her on the envelope. A small smile curved her lips. Did Felix have a hand in that? Her heart trembled. Her bottom lip quivered.
He is quite an amazing man.
“Well, I am grateful regardless of how it happened.”

Charlotte tugged her down the street. “Are you nervous? Sometimes these big events make me want to burrow under my bedclothes and wish it away.”

“I am a bit.” More so about catching a glimpse of her father than anything else.

“Perhaps you’ll meet an eligible
parti
. That would make the nerves worthwhile.”

Clarice glanced at her impromptu companion but could find no hint of guile in Charlotte’s expression. “I don’t know about that as I don’t wish to make a match. Besides, it’s highly doubtful anyone will take notice of me.”

“Why? With your wonderful accent and exotic complexion, I would be surprised if you don’t have men falling at your feet.”

“What gammon you spread, Charlotte.” Clarice nudged her new friend in the ribs. “I have nothing top-notch to wear, and since I would rather die than ask Lady Drummond for a borrowed gown, I suppose I’ll wear my rust-colored dress once again.” She sighed. Perhaps she could fashion some sort of beaded choker to liven up the outfit.
“Though Felix has seen that one twice now.” She realized her slip the second Charlotte snorted.

“
Ah, no wonder you’re not looking to make a match. My brother holds a place in your heart.” When Clarice remained silent, Charlotte continued, “My girl, I believe you’ve just fallen into a grand run of luck.” She tugged Clarice quickly down the street. “Forget your worries, beautiful Clarice. I shall lend you a gown as well as jewels to match.”

“I beg your pardon?” Clarice stumbled to a halt and drew Charlotte with her. “Why would you do something like this for me? I am but a stranger. You know nothing about me.” Tears misted her vision. She blinked them away as best she could lest her new friend think less of her.
It would seem Felix’s sister was just as generous and compassionate as he was.

Charlotte’s laugh tinkled in the afternoon air. The gay sound lifted Clarice’s spirits. “I know enough
, but I’m curious about much more.” When she smiled, mischief danced her eyes, very much like Felix’s did. “Let’s just say that sometimes fate needs a push in the right direction.” She gripped Clarice’s free hand. “Come. It will be fun to dig through my closet and put together a smashing outfit for you. I’m so glad I came upon you today.”

“I am too.” Despite the knots twisting in her stomach and the tremors playing at her spine, Clarice allowed the other woman to lead her toward the street where the Darrington townhouse was located. Above everything, she couldn’t help but imagine what Felix’s reaction would be when he saw her dressed
in expensive clothes.

For the first time in seemingly forever,
she eagerly anticipated an outing.

Clarice stood in Charlotte’s dressing room while her mind spun at the choices the other woman gave her. “How am I supposed to pick one over the other when they’re all so gorgeous?”
Three gowns had been draped over chair backs and the colors amazed her: turquoise, pink and a silvery gray dress.

“That’s the glory of being a woman. We can dress according to our mood.” Charlotte’s smile hadn’t dimmed since Clarice had met her. “Honestly, I think the blue will be fantastic against your skin. Please say you’ll try that one on for me.”

“Try it on? I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Though Charlotte had sent away her maid, the thought of disrobing in front of her new friend and exposing the marks Lady Drummond had put on her body left her cold.

“Yes, of course. How else will we know that it fits? I cannot put you out in public with an ill-fitting dress.” Charlotte picked up the lovely turquoise gown and draped it over her arm. “Come on, silly. It’s fun.”

Despite her misgivings, excitement fluttered in Clarice’s belly. It truly was a novel experience. Normally, all of her gowns were castoffs and not nearly as beautiful as the one Charlotte held. “Very well.” Quickly, she slipped off her drab drown dress, careful to keep her back from Charlotte.

“Don’t be shy. Didn’t you ever try on gowns with your mother?”

“No. Mother was usually given all of her dresses, already done to her size, as gifts from various protectors.” As she stood in her worn shift, she worried her bottom lip. Would Charlotte notice how pathetic her clothing was? Would she care?

Instead, a frown pulled down the corners of Charlotte’s mouth. “If I may speak my mind a little, was your mother a member of the demi-monde?
There have been rumors, you see, but I never paid them much mind until Felix mentioned your name.”

Clarice’s stomach clenched. She hadn’t realized she’d made such an admission. Finally, she sighed. There was no point in denying it, and it would be nice to finally share the secret with someone other than Lady Drummond. “My mother was a high-born prostitute as well as an opera singer. Everything she owned came from the men of her acquaintance. It was not an orthodox life, I can tell you.”

“No, I guess it wouldn’t be.” Her eyes held compassion as she looked at Clarice. “Have you told Felix?”

“No.” She forced a swallow into her tight throat. “At first, I wanted to but wasn’t certain if that would color his opinion of me. Later, after we’d shared a few kisses, I became afraid that my response would land me in the same mess my mother had chosen for her life.” Clarice fixed her gaze on the floor. “
I refuse to be what she was.”

“I understand. I’m glad you’re doing something to change your circumstances.”

“Yes, well, that is debatable. Do you think once he knows, he will refuse to see me?” He had every right, but she hoped he was made of better mettle than that.

“My brother is everything that is good and brave in this world. I don’t believe the knowledge will change his mind, but he will need to be informed.” Charlotte moved around Clarice
. Fabric rustled. “If you don’t mind, take off the shift too. I have a new one you can wear instead. Every woman deserves to have new undergarments for such a big event.”