Darrington 01 - Marriage Minded Lord (18 page)

An hour later when the company sat down to dinner in yet another ballroom filled with large round tables, Clarice’s mind still spun with an overload of rich food, buzzing conversation and stimulation from the glittering, brightly-dressed people around her. She had no idea what her dinner companions said to her, but she responded in generalities, cowed into near silence by the simple fact they talked to her as if she were an equal. Olivia and Felix’s mother, Roberta, dominated much of
Clarice’s table’s conversation. Occasionally, she caught the gist of a political ramble, but she kept her lips tightly sealed, not wishing to disturb her precarious spot on the shaky branch of societal indulgence. She had only been invited as a suspected favor to Felix. She should take in all she could in order to regale the kitchen staff with stories for weeks to come.

Eventually, the dull roar of
talk ebbed as everyone finished eating.

“Perhaps the ladies would be so kind as to leave us to our port and a few rousing games of cards,” the duke suggested. “I’ve a mind to relieve some of you of much coin tonight.”

Polite laughter followed the announcement then the duchess stood, signaling a definite end to dinner of which the ladies were required to follow.

“Oh, by the by, Clarice?” Olivia waved her hand from across the table to gain Clarice’s attention.

“Yes, Lady Drummond?” Dread chewed at her stomach. What insensitive subject or outrageous order would she dare put forth this time?

A sly grin slid over Olivia’s face. The diamond-studded combs in her hair glittered. “Be a dear and locate my wrap. I’d like everything readied for our departure as I do not wish to tarry long tonight. I find I’m rather fatigued, and,” she slid a triumphant look around the table, “that is your job as a companion, is it not?”

“This is true, Lady Drummond.” She hated the heat that seeped into her cheeks and chest. Why did Olivia need to bring her position to the attention of their table?

Charlotte cocked an eyebrow. “Have a care, Lady Drummond. Surely you can at least wait until we’ve all had a chance to visit with each other in the drawing room.”

“Oh, I’m afraid not, Lady Charlotte, for letting Clarice mingle with the notables more than she already has would be a very bad idea.” Olivia stood. She patted her hair then slowly looked around the table as if were the duchess herself. “You see, I have it on very good authority she’s following in her mother’s footsteps. She’s hardly a good social fit for any of us.”

Felix shot to his feet. “Enough, Olivia.” All remaining conversation within the room died. Every eye was trained in
Clarice’s direction.

“Why so perturbed,
Lord Swandon? Am I in danger of hitting too close to the truth?” Olivia prowled around the table and came to a stop near Clarice. “My poor, deluded companion has gotten into the habit of making herself available for dear Felix’s every whim and need. It seems every chance she gets, she corners him in kitchens and parlors to have her way with him.”

Dual gasps from Charlotte and her mother echoed in the sudden silence.

“You go too far.” A decided growl had entered Felix’s voice. “I demand you desist or excuse yourself from the gathering if you cannot hold your tongue.”

Clarice glanced at him, grateful for his authority. His eyes flashed. His expression reflected grim determination. Was he annoyed Olivia had called him to task or that his association with her had been brought to light? “Lady Drummond, please. Not now.” She clasped her hands in her lap to stop their shaking. Even though anger rose in her throat, threatening to choke her, she strove to keep tight rein on her temper. It would do no good to antagonize the woman here, and certainly not in front of the Duke of Amherst.

“I think now is the best time, since you’ve acted beyond your station tonight in an effort to fool everyone around you into thinking you are something you are obviously not.” Olivia rested her gaze on Clarice. It roiled with hatred and anger. “You can wear pretty gown or borrow expensive jewels, but beneath it all, you’ll never be one of us. Look around you.” She gestured to the room at large. “Do you see anyone here who holds a position such as yours?”

Clarice refused to follow the order. Instead, she fixed her gaze on her plate. “No, of course not.”

“Exactly, and why do you think that is?” Olivia paused, most likely for dramatic effect. When Clarice kept silent, Lady Drummond continued. “Class doesn’t cross class no matter who you claim sired you, so do yourself a favor and remember your station. You are a servant, nothing more. That is all you’ll ever be.” She leaned closed, put her head near Clarice’s and whispered, “I warned you to stay away from Felix. You have only yourself to blame for whatever befalls you next.”

“Idle threats, my lady.” Olivia had done nothing except make such threats throughout her employ. Still, Clarice forced a swallow into her dry throat. The backs of her eyelids itched with tears. Her stomach ached from embarrassment.

“Perhaps you are correct on all counts, Lady Drummond, save one.” With all the dignity she could summon, Clarice pushed to her feet, swaying only slightly as a bout of lightheadedness assailed her. “I enjoy the protection of no man, and I am most certainly not what my mother was. I’ve worked hard to maintain my independence so I wouldn’t have to be.” She looked Olivia full in the face.
This time I will not let her bully me. I don’t need this position any longer.
“And even if I was, it would never give you permission to deride or belittle me as a person. Integrity and respect draws the line between classes, Lady Drummond. Not titles.”

“Oh.” Charlotte gasped. She gave a brief bout of applause until a stern glare from her mother stifled it. “Bravo, Miss Delacroix,” she whispered.

She looked at Felix, caught the surprise in his gaze then she transferred her attention to Charlotte. The woman was positively beaming with encouragement. Clarice pulled away from Lady Drummond. “Also, it would seem you are also incorrect on one last count, Olivia.”

Her employer gasped at the daring of using her Christian name in public. “If you think you can further shock this company, let’s hear it.”

It was now or never. All of Felix’s words came rushing back, and the need to reveal the truth of her ancestry shot to the forefront. She clasped her shaking hands in front of her. “While it’s true my mother was a prostitute, I am the granddaughter of the
Comte de Auvergne
. So, Lady Drummond, I do have a titled rank that is the same as yours. I would appreciate it if you refrained from talking down to me in the future.”

A few titters
and gasps of surprise erupted around the room. Lady Drummond’s gaze narrowed further. “I am not done with you, miss.” She stormed from the room in a flurry of skirting.

Clarice heaved a tiny sigh.
I’m in the drink now.
She glanced across the table and caught pride, but also pity, lurking in Felix’s eyes. “I apologize, my lord. We should never have begun a friendship, for that is all it can be after this.” The last thing she wanted from him was sympathy. Yes, she considered herself better than her mother and quite possibly her father despite his place in the Peerage, but perhaps she shouldn’t have let herself become attached to Felix. He didn’t deserve the backlash that would undoubtedly follow Lady Drummond’s outburst.

I knew no good could come from falling for a lord.
Unable to stand the scrutiny of the remaining dinner party, she fled from the room, choosing a different door than Olivia had taken.

Chapter Nine

“Damnation. The lot of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves.” Felix shoved back his chair. “Miss Delacroix is good and sweet and brave. We should all aspire to have an ounce of her courage or honor. If you would give her a chance, you’d see in her what I do.”

“Good Lord, Felix. Sit down,” his mother hissed. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

“No.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m tired of being ordered about by the females in my life.” First his mother summoned him to London for nothing more than to make a match, then Lady Drummond thought she could imply being his countess, not to mention his sister and her interfering ways. He glared at Charlotte. “Don’t think I didn’t recognize that gown you loaned Clarice. I remember paying the note not six months ago. I also had advised you to wear that very one this evening.” And finally Clarice herself, but she’d done nothing except be the woman she truly was without avarice or guile.

“Delacroix?” The Duke of Amherst rose to stand next to his wife. “That name is familiar to me, but I cannot say why. Doesn’t matter. A round of spirits will help soothe your ruffled feathers,
Swandon.”

“Bother. I think, perhaps I’ve fallen into Bedlam.” Was the man so daft he didn’t remember his affair with Clarice’s mother, or did he strive to save his arse from public scrutiny? “I believe I’m going to beg off the rest of the evening, Amherst. I find I cannot stomach the company any longer.”

Ignoring his mother’s outcry and the purple hue darkening the duke’s face, Felix strode from the room in the direction Clarice had taken.
I’ve probably made a muck of my future within the
Ton
.
He was beyond caring. Nothing mattered except finding Clarice and telling her what had been on his heart for the last couple of weeks. Sometimes a man had to tend to his domestic affairs before all else.

As he methodically searched rooms, his mind revisited the evening. Clarice had been beautiful, flawless even. The dress Charlotte had loaned her set off her
dusky skin to perfection, and the velvet choker. Dear God, he had been hard pressed to keep his attention on the piece of jewelry instead of her bosom. After the heated dance they’d shared, all he’d wanted to do was whisk her away into a private corner and cover her skin with kisses, explore her breasts with his lips and tongue. Despite the promise he’d made her and despite the respect he had for her as a person, nothing could erase the need he felt.

I want her to be mine.

He tracked her to earth in a small parlor downstairs off the entryway. Clarice sat huddled on a chaise lounge with a cheek resting on the high bolstered end. The side of her face visible to him was shiny with tears. His chest constricted. A wave of fierce protectiveness hit him in the gut. She deserved so much better than what life had given her.
She deserves… love… unwavering regard for the woman she is.
His pulsed thundered in his ears. Did he truly intend to carry out what he’d denied himself to think for the last week?

“Clarice?”

She twisted around, shock widening her eyes. “Go away, Lord Swandon,” she told him as she put her skirts to rights.

“Felix,” he corrected. He came further into the room until he stood directly in front of her. “
I will always be Felix to you. Let me take you home.”

“No.” She scrubbed at the moisture on her face. “I don’t want your sympathy. I saw the pity in your eyes
, and I don’t need it. I’m doing quite well, thank you very much.” Her voice wobbled at the last bit.

“Dearest, if you saw pity, it wasn’t for you.” The endearment slipped out before he could stop it. He didn’t correct it either.
In fact, he wanted to say it again. “I felt sorry for Olivia. I cannot believe how small, petty and miserable she’s become. It’s unsettling.”

“Perhaps it’s the lifestyle she leads.”

He fished in a jacket pocket for his handkerchief then handed it to her. “How so? From all accounts, she lives well and makes no apologies for it.” Except the rumors that persisted of her peccadillos and penchants for dubious connections.

Clarice wiped her eyes. “Lord
Wynesford has made his fortune through shipping—human cargo to be exact. And don’t let Olivia tell you she knew nothing about it. Often, she is the one who handles the accounts or sets the schedules when her father is out of pocket. I saw the correspondence myself. Everywhere the Crown has holdings is fair game, and because Lord Wynesford also owns property in the Caribbean, it’s very easy for them. It would seem there is always a need for slavery—of all skin colors of both sexes.”

“That would explain the reluctance to talk of their financial background
and of why I can never secure an audience with her father.” When she merely nodded, he sighed. The very idea of profiting off the backs of helpless people sent bile into his throat. “Please let me escort you home, Clarice. You’d be more comfortable.”

She snorted. “Would I? If Lady Drummond is there ahead of me, don’t expect me to hold my tongue. I’ve had enough of being proper
or subservient. I want no more of this sort of life or of her beatings.”

“Dear God, please say she’s not laid a hand on you.”
He looked into her face but could see nothing except flawless skin.

“I wish I could, but that would be an outright lie.”

“Damnation!” His chest tightened. “I will kill her.”

“No, please don’t land yourself into more trouble than
you are already in because of me.” She stayed him with a hand on his arm. “Let the matter drop. I will handle her myself, keep her at bay with a fireplace poker if need be until I can make other arrangements.”

“For the moment and only for the sake of manners
I’ll honor your wishes, but if you cannot handle it yourself, you run out into the night and come straight to my home.” He needed a distraction for he only wanted to haul her over his shoulder and take her away from all of this. Plus, it would help him from thinking about how good she’d feel in his arms and what he could do to ease her worries. Undoubtedly, though, such an action would land him in the drink with her yet again. He wanted to blurt out everything in his heart, but he panicked at the last second and took refuge in the uncouth. “I took great pains to wrangle you and Olivia an invitation to this party. The least you could do would appear a tiny bit grateful or engage the man in conversation.” Botheration. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all.

She stared up at him with a mixture of exhaustion and defeat in her expression. “I
am
grateful, and I accomplished what I’ve wanted to do ever since my mother died. I met my father.”

“And?” Surely that couldn’t be everything she had to
share when she’d taken him to task for far less.

“I have nothing else to say to him.” She struggled to her feet. “After everything I’ve seen, heard and experienced tonight, I believe the Duke of Amherst is everything a man should never be. I don’t wish my name associated with his
. I’d be proud to claim my French heritage if anyone should care.”

“What the bloody hell does that mean?” Every moment they spent in this house slipped by as wasted time. If they weren’t here, he could take her into his arms and soothe her
doubts with kisses, tell her everything would work out as it should in due course and pledge his protection.

“
Lord Amherst isn’t like you, Felix. Don’t you see?” Her eyes widened and her lips parted. Her expression shifted into happiness. A tiny shrug lifted her shoulders. “You are the ideal and everything men should be. You’re strong, determined, a man of duty and passion. You’re loyal and fair. The duke is not, and he’ll never be that.”

Ah, so she’s spent time thinking of me.
That was all to the good. Felix grabbed one of her hands. He peered into her eyes and fell deep into the brown depths. It was time. “Clarice, I need to say—”

“No.” She pulled her hand from his. “Whatever it is, you must keep it to yourself.” She shook her head. “No matter what else you might think, a relationship of any kind between us isn’t possible.” She bit her bottom lip. “You’ve already done too much damage to your reputation because of me. I cannot allow you to destroy what’s left.”

“Don’t you understand? I don’t care about any of that.” How could he get through to her?

Clarice shook her head. Tears sparkled in her eyes. Her trembling chin almost brought him to his knees. “Oh Felix, you must let me go.
It’ll be hard at first, but without the temptation, the parting will grow easier.” Then she fisted her hands in her skirts and fled.

When he came to London, he hadn’t thought he’d need to practice his skills at the hunt
, but in order to secure Clarice’s hand or her promise, he do whatever it took. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. How lovely it would be to finally catch her and convince her to be his in name, and everything else, for he would accept nothing less.

“I hope you’re satisfied with yourself, Felix,” his mother complained as she entered the townhouse with Charlotte in her wake. “You embarrassed me tonight and flaunted your affair in front of people who can further your career. Not to mention you insulted them.”

“My words were nothing but the truth this evening. Well, except the affair. Quite honestly, nothing untoward has occurred between Clarice and me as of yet outside of a few very lovely kisses.” He closed the door behind them then turned to Samuel, who hovered not far away. “I will see to the ladies tonight, my good man. Please, seek out your bed early this evening.”

“Very good, my lord.”

Once the man moved off, Felix divested himself of his greatcoat, hat and gloves. He glanced at his mother. “You look like a thundercloud. Berate me if you must, but my mind is quite firm on this matter. I intend to make Clarice an offer.”

Roberta let Charlotte help her off with her spencer. “It is folly to pursue this woman. Did you and she make plans when you left the dining room tonight?”

“No, we did not. In fact, she fled shortly before I came and collected you and Charlotte.”

“At least one of you understands propriety.” How she managed to convey disappointment and annoyance at the same time, Felix would never know. “I cannot fix this mess tonight so I’m going upstairs. In the morning, we shall all sit down and plan out a strategy to recover your position.”

He held his tongue while his parent swept up the staircase with her chin held high. Once the door to her rooms closed, he let his shoulders sag. “Sometimes I like to think of Mother on the battlefield somewhere, commanding troop movements, ordering men about. She’d be quite fearsome.”