Wish List Part 20

Beau grunted and tugged at his cravat. Were all the brothers against a match between Walingford and Montwyn?

"Beau," Lindley said, interrupting his thoughts. "Didn't think to see you today," he said, stopping, urging Beau to stop his striding walk. Beau stopped. Lindley looked eager to see him. Lindley looking completely eager was something.

"No, well, I was outa shopping," Beau said with a tight smile.

"Yes, well," Lindley said haltingly, "I didn't know if you'd been invited to the Blakelys' tonight."

Beau said nothing; he merely waited, almost joyous at the look of eagerness on Lindley's face. Lindley was clearly not against the match, but Lindley might be alone in that.

"Should be an enjoyable evening," Lindley said. "Clarissa will be there. I hope to see you too."

"I haven't made my plans for the evening as yet," Beau said cordially. He would not so boldly reveal his interest in Clarissa, not with so many uncertainties. It would not do for word of his intent to get back to Clarissa, feeding a confidence he did not want her to feel. This matter of the Irish lands would be settled.

"Really?" Lindley said, his own irritation mounting and displaying itself on his face. "I wish you a pleasant evening, whatever your diversion."

"Thank you," Beau said. "And you as well."

Both men parted, one newly frustrated and one with renewed confidence. Beau was more than happy to pa.s.s his frustration regarding Clarissa off to Lindley, old friend though he was.

Chapter Three.

She would wear the lavender silk tonight, and for jewelsa Perry came in as she was deliberating.

"What do you think, Perry? The amethyst necklace or the pearl? I cannot decide," she said, turning in her chair, her hands holding each selection aloft.

"I prefer the amethyst. All that sparkle," he said, sitting down on a chair near her dressing table.

"Yes, so much easier to attract a husband when one 'sparkles,'" she said, laying down the pearl necklace and arranging the amethysts around her exposed throat.

Another evening to be spent shopping for a husband. She sighed and checked the arrangement of her hair in the mirror. It was so much more pleasurable shopping for books. She had been reading her new book on the Peloponnesian wars all afternoon, and now her eyes were stinging with fatigue, but she had to go out tonight.

Actually, reading about battle was the perfect preparation for facing a roomful of Englishmen. Especially Montwyn. Would he be there? She smiled at her reflection, her brown eyes dancing with confidence. Of course he would be there. The idea of battling with him was the only excitement she would have all evening, and she was almost counting on him to make her night at the Blakelys' worthwhile. She could entertain herself with him while looking elsewhere for a husband.

"You sparkle enough without the aid of any jewels, Clarissa," Perry said. "Montwyn seems fairly dazzled."

He did, actually, and she hid her smile of satisfaction in the drawing on of a glove.

"Did you see him today?" she asked casually.

"Montwyn, you mean?"

She gave him a cross look for his clumsy attempt to rile her.

Perry shrugged and said, "Sorry. Yes, actually. Jane and I b.u.mped into him on our way to the milliner's. Jane let it be known that you were at Lackington'sa"ridiculous if you ask me, since we weren't talking of Lackington's at alla"and off he went. You saw him there?"

"Yes," she said, standing and smoothing her skirt. "He was at Lackington's."

"He must be interested if he ran off there on just a word from Jane."

"Of course he's interested," Clarissa said with a smile of satisfaction.

"But you're not," Perry said, standing with her, his face serious. "I think Montwyn rather rude and certainly inordinately proud."

"Inordinately? Oh, I think him proud to an uncivil degree, but his pride may be well deserved," Clarissa reluctantly defended.

"I've seen Montwyn Hall," Perry said. "There's enough pride for ten heirs in the Montwyn t.i.tle. But there's more to a man than his house."

"Of course. There are his lands," Clarissa said firmly. "A man must have good land, good Irish land."

"And naught else?" Perry asked. "You seem interested in Montwyn, with or without Irish lands."

"I am not interested," she said, searching for a fan.

At Perry's skeptical look, she said, "I am not. Have more faith in me, Perry. I have more sense than to choose such a man. He is tooa"" she shruggeda""bold a man. I am looking for a man who'll burrow quietly in London and leave me contentedly in Ireland. There is nothing quiet about Montwyn, and he would never be able to content me."

"I agree with you," Perry said, standing near her bedroom door. "I wish I could believe you. You do sparkle when he's near, Clarissa, and I know that look in you. More, I think Montwyn to be a man attracted to bright resistance. And you are just that."

"I fear I have not been complimented," she said.

"Smart girl," he said with a grin. "Sparkle all night, dear, for I will be at your elbow throughout the evening. Montwyn shall not have you to himself."

"Thank you for that, Perry," she said. "Now I must do the final touches to myself. I'll meet you downstairs."

Perry left, but he did not like the glitter in Clarissa's dark eyes whenever Montwyn's name was mentioned. And she had fairly glowed when she had learned that Montwyn had followed her to Lackington's. She was a sharp girl, quick in both thoughts and actions, but she might have come up against her match with Montwyn. He was a formidable man, experienced, proud, determined. It was an uncomfortable contemplation that Montwyn might have determined to have Clarissa.

Russell was just coming up to change for the evening as Perry was going down.

"You going with us?" Perry asked.

"Yes, I thought I would," Russell said, his tone more serious than usual.

Stabbing in the dark, Perry said, "You saw Montwyn today?"

Russell looked startled for a moment and then nodded, "I did. When I was with Clarissa at Lackington's. Odd the way they spoke to each other. Rude. But they seemed to like it."

Perry, only a year younger than Russell, nodded and then shook his head in worry.

"What do you make of him, Russell?"

Russell rested his hand on the banister and studied the ceiling plaster. "I've made discreet inquiries. He's a bit wild, or was until he came into his t.i.tle. Gets out a bit. Travels. Has seen hard duty in his regiment, but Lindley could tell you more, since they met when they both wore the uniform. Not quite a regular man, they say. Harder. Prouder. Perhaps even fierce, in a quiet sort of way."

"Not the sort I'd choose for Clarissa," Perry said.

"Nor I," Russell agreed. "It's that wildness that concerns me. Doesn't do for a man to leave his wife at home while he carouses."

"But he's not married yet," Perry said, "and you know him from your own carousing."

"True." Russell grinned. "But would he want me to marry his sister, if he had one? Probably not."

"You've seen them together," Perry stated. "She's different with him."

"No, I don't agree. She's completely herself. Completely Clarissa."

"Exactly," Perry said. "Why? She hardly knows him. Why would she be so bold with him, unless she's drawn to him, feels somethinga""

"Not all bad to feel something for the man she might marry."

"Marry Montwyn? I don't think so. Steel against steel, the two of them. And I think he may be scaring off other suitors, leaving her with little choice but him."

"He's scaring off the suitors she's not scaring off herself?" Russell laughed.

Perry shrugged and said reluctantly, "Point taken. She is not showing her best to the London lads, as she calls them."

"Yet Montwyna""

"Montwyn isn't put off by her manner at all," Perry finished.

Perry and Russell looked into each other's eyes in full comprehensiona"and with no comfort.

The evening's entertainment was a ball and it was lovely. The music, the candlelight, the colors of gowns and jewels and bouquets, were all lovely. Memorable. A sweet winter's night for a maid to cherish when she was old and fragile and lounging on her chaise in some cold and distant future. Clarissa knew it would be so. She would remember this night, this beautiful night of dancing and music, for years.

It was so sad that upon such an evening she was compelled to shop for an English husband.

Dalton had disappeared almost upon their arrival, Perry was whispering with the niece of their host quite a distance from her side, Russell was caught in what appeared to be a serious game of cards, and Lindley was at her side, his vigilance as constant as his advice.

"If you would only restrain your temper and be civil, you would make much headway," he said, not bothering to disguise his exasperation.

"I am always civil," Clarissa said, her eyes glittering more sharply than her jewels. "What I will not do is fawn over these English fops."

" You are English, as English as any in thisa""

"What sort of children would I be forced to bear if married to that?" she said in a hiss, cutting him off. She used her fan to indicate Lord Darnell, as fat as always and in need of a hair tr.i.m.m.i.n.g. "Has any one of you considered that?" Darnell was all jowl and bristlea"revolting. "I could do little worse in the barnyard."

"And does the ram bring in twenty thousand pounds per annum?"

"He is no ram, Lindley," she said bluntly. "Would you bind me to a porker for even half that amount?" she rejoined angrily.

"Shall we speak of the kitchen mouse to whom I have pledged?" Lindley said in a growl, his eyes as fierce and as bright as hers.

"Miss Brookdale is no mouse!" Clarissa protested.

"With Ridgehaven in tow, no woman is a mouse," he said, calming himself. "At least it shall not be admitted aloud."

Clarissa felt guilt tugging at her heels and could not run fast enough to escape its touch. She was churlish. Everyone married for money and position; she was not the first, nor would she be the last. It was childish to be so contrary. Lindley had done his part for the family, and she could do no less.

"Is it the porker you have in mind for me?" she asked with a wry smile.

"Never." He smiled back, their argument over and done. "Do your own choosing. But choose."

"Very well," Clarissa said, taking a deep breath. "I shall. Tonight."

"There is no need for such haste. The clock does not tick so loudly as all that," he argued. Lindley never could enjoy a period of calm for more than a moment.

"I am not of a disposition to dawdle," she said, drawing herself up and surveying the room. "What matters one man over another when they are all so confoundedly English? A length of bleached linen is a length of linen, is it not? What possible reason for confusion or hesitation? I shall make my decision tonight and will have the goods delivered next week."

"Confound you, Clarissa! You know there is no such needa""

She laid a hand upon his arm and looked up into his eyes. "I would rather have it behind me, Lindley. The matrimonial blade gleams quite wickedly over my neck. I would the sooner have it drop."

Now it was guilt that dogged him; she could read it in his eyes. But she had spoken truly; she had no will to delay what she knew was her family duty. To delay meant to feed the illusion of choice, and she had no choice. She must marry and marry well.

Lord Montwyn, joining their company, ended the argument, which was just as well.

"Good evening, Beau," Lindley said with a bow. "A pleasure to see you, as always."

"Good evening." Montwyn bowed, his eyes lingering on Clarissa. She returned his look after her quick curtsy. "I had hoped to see you tonight," he said.

Of course he had. He was behaving very much like a man who had made up his mind as to the woman of his choice; she knew enough of men to know that. And she knew Lindley well enough to know that her blatant perusal of Montwyn was making him uncomfortable. That was a pitya"for Lindley. Henry Wakefield, Lord Montwyn, was not discomfitted at all, that she could see. She was quite certain that, having made the ill-guided decision that she was to be the future Earl of Montwyn's mother, Henry Wakefield expected her to be honored and flattered. He truly was an imbecile.

"You are called Beau, Lord Montwyn? I was told your given name was Henry," she said.

"Beau, for Beauford, another of my names. A childhood name that has stuck with me," he answered, holding her eyes. His eyes were the most intense shade of greena "I should think that few men would be so mild as to keep a childhood name alive into adulthood," she said, breaking contact with his eyes and looking down at her fan. What was behind his eyes ? Something that called to her heart and not her head; she would ignore it.

"Yes, I suppose I would feel so if my nurse had taken to calling me Puddles," he said, grinning.

His face was transformed when he grinned. Oh, he was still formidable, but now he also seemed playful, boyish. He must have been a wild youth. She did not know but that he was a wild man. And, foolishly, the thought did not dismay her as it should have. He was bold, yet she could be bold as well.

"Did you make any other purchases at Lackington's today, Lady Clarissa?" Montwyn asked.

"Didn't you watch?" she said. Yes, she could be bold and would be. It delighted him, she knew, and delighting him, just for the moment, amused her.

"Please excuse my sistera"" Lindley began, his cheeks red with fury. She knew she had pushed him past mere embarra.s.sment.

"There's no need," Beau interrupted. "She's quite right. I did watch. One book. Noa""

"Husband," Clarissa completed for him, smiling up at him. His eyes were like emeralds, deep and sparkling, almost blue in the candlelight.