Wish List Part 21

"Come, Lindley," Jane said, approaching and drawing Lindley off. "Miss Whaley insists on hearing of your exploits with your regiment. It seems her cousin has just bought himself a commissiona"

Lindley let himself be taken off, for the most part because Clarissa made it clear that she wanted him to go.

"You enjoy embarra.s.sing him?" Beau asked when they stood alone.

"Not at all. I simply enjoy speaking my mind," she said, still holding his gaze.

Beau studied her, this bold girl, and decided again that he liked what he saw. She had a tongue in her head, and he'd always had an appreciation for redheads. Good family, good name, good looksa"and she was not immune to him. He could read her fascination easily enough, and none of it had anything to do with his Irish estate, not with that glowing eye and flushed cheek. A girl could well like Ireland and not have that sort of response. No, she had an affinity for him; that was plain. And she was not afraid of him. So many of these girls this season appeared overawed. But not this one, this girl who so boldly declared herself to be shopping for a husband this year.

Beau smiled deeply, and decided. She was the one. He'd make an offer for her tomorrow morning. It should all be settled by next weeka"by Christmas, in fact. Convenient, that. He liked to be at Montwyn Hall for the holidays. It would be good to get it all settled and behind him.

"And every Englishman has the right to speak his mind," he answered. "You will find no hindrance here, Lady Clarissa." She bristled as if poked. Had he insulted her somehow? d.a.m.ned if he knew.

He had insulted her, the dolt. Instantly his facility at amusing her vanished. Really, there was so little logic in allowing herself to find enjoyment in the company of a moderately handsome man of marginal intelligence; her heart thumped an entirely different summation of the man, but her hearta" and her eyes as wella"had no part in this.

"Excuse me, but I have promised this dance to another. I should like to see you again this evening." He bowed, his eyes never leaving hers.

Arrogant fop. Words of insult crowded her tongue and threatened to smother her judgment. She had been better brought up than to bow to uncivilized urges.

"Enjoy your dance, Lord Montwyn," she said.

"Oh"a" he turned to hera""but it is more than a dance, is it not? I am shopping for a bride."

"You attempt to shock me," she said, furious with him as completely as she had been delighted by him a moment before. "All you have accomplished is to ill.u.s.trate the degradation of your manners and, perhaps, your morals."

"By speaking my mind?" he said with a smile, tormenting her with her own choice of words. "Good evening, Lady Clarissa. I hope to see you again. Soon."

He left her then, his smile as wide, arrogant as a fox. He was a boor. She hated him. He was the most arrogant and insufferable of them all. He was also the one her eyes followed. Stupid thing, eyes. One didn't need them to make a marriage contract. She forced herself to look away from him and survey the rest of the room.

He did cut a splendid figure, though, his height being an advantage few could lay claim to. She forced her eyes to obey her will and studied the other men arrayed for her consideration. What she needed was a list, a list of net worth, annual income, and, most important, Irish holdings. That would be the measure of the man she chose, not green eyes and a devilish manner, for she would return to Ireland as mistress of her own domain and destiny. Let her husband, whomever he was, wallow in London. In fact, she would prefer it.

Chapter Four.

The next morning, in the privacy of her room, with a cup of chocolate to sustain her, Clarissa sat amid a haphazardly organized pile of papers and listsa"all necessary research materials in her attempt to compile her list of men suitable to fill the position of husband.

Naturally Jane was horrified by the cold-bloodedness of it, but Jane had a strong leaning toward sentiment and romance. Clarissa was going to be ruled by her head and the sense that G.o.d had given her; she was going to be logical and she was going to be efficient. And she was going to be quick.

"But Clarissa," Jane pleaded, clasping her hands before her, "there is more to marriage than contracts and obligations."

"Is there? I fail to see it. What is there of sentiment in arranging a marriage anyway? Albert would scoff at you, Jane."

"But sentiment should grow in such a union. What chance is there for warm sentiment with such a cold beginning?"

"Let him have lands in Leinster and I shall have sentiment enough," Clarissa said, taking a healthy swallow of her morning chocolate. "If he has lands in Wexford itself, I shall love him unreservedlya from Wexford. Let him occupy himself in London or even Dublin."

"Clarissa," Jane said, trying for severity.

"It is no use your trying to dissuade me, Jane. I am quite determined and have even given Lindley my pledge that all will be settled by next week. I do so want to enjoy the Christmas holiday without this hanging over me. Now, help me with my list if you would help me."

"I shall help," Dalton said, coming into her room, "and gladly. What is it you wish to know?"

"Oh, Dalton, just the one I need," Clarissa said, laying aside her shawl. "You know everyone in society. Just who has Irish lands?"

"Irish lands, is it? Well, I suppose I'm not surprised. You will have your way and go back, and if it takes an aging husband to get you there, then you're hardly likely to balk."

"Of course not," she said, hesitating only slightly. "If you'll only help me compile my list?"

"Yes, of course," Dalton said with a slight smile.

"Dalton, you're not to encourage her," Jane said.

"But how can I not, Jane, when she is being so very reasonable, so extremely logical?"

"Exactly," Clarissa said with a nod to Jane.

"Well, then, you must have Lord Benson on your list. He has a prime estate in County Wicklow."

"Lord Benson," she repeated, forcing herself to add him to her list. Benson was past fifty and had a small pastry for a nose.

"Then there is Lord Esherton, recently available, with an estate in Waterford much talked of."

She had already met Lord Esherton; he was without a single hair on his head, and he had a most peculiar odor about him. His first wife had most likely died of asphyxiation. Still, Waterford was so very near Wexford, the place of her youth. Esherton was added to her list.

"I almost hesitate to mentiona" Dalton said leisurely, "but you did ask for my complete help."

"Yes, who is it?" she said sharply, redipping her quill.

"There is Lord Montwyn, whom I know you have met. He does have an estate of some merit in County Meath, I think it is."

"Ah," she said, trying not to smile. And failing.

"I thought you'd be glad to add Montwyn to your list," Dalton teased with a chuckle.

"Don't be ridiculous, Dalton," she barked, laying aside her quill. "If I must shop for a husband, I would be rather stupid not to have a shopping list from which to make my selections."

"And you are certainly not stupid," Dalton said merrily. "Tell me, what exactly is on your for a future husband?"

"Irish lands, of course. That is of primary importance."

"And of secondary importance?"

"His annual income."

"A most practical list," he said, smiling.

"For a most serious purpose," she said with a small scowl.

"a.s.suredly. Shall I inform Lord Montwyn that he is on your list?"

"Don't be an imbecile, Dalton," she snapped. "It would be so like you to do it, just for a laugh. But tell him, if you must. I'll wager it will matter little," she said, grinning.

"That confident, are you?"

"Not another word from you, Dalton," she said, turning her back to him and sipping her chocolate most delicately.

Dalton limited his response to a bark of laughter, and then left her room with Jane at his elbow, whispering words of wise counsel, no doubt. It was unfortunate for Jane that she was hampered by an obstinate family, ruled for the most part by their own stubborn ways.

But not Clarissa. She was proceeding wisely and most cautiously. Did she not have her list? And what a welcome addition Montwyn was to that list, especially when compared to his compet.i.tion. But really, to be honest with herself, he had no compet.i.tion. With Irish lands behind him, he became just possible for consideration as a husband. He was still rude and overbearing and proud, yet he was compelling in a blatant sort of way.

He just might do.

He was certainly a more attractive candidate than Esherton. All that was lacking was the certainty that she could manage him. Yet if she was able to manuever him into making an offer for her, it would be no great task to softly manage him during their marriage. She was almost certain Montwyn wouldn't present too much of a problem.

Let Dalton spill the truth about her list to him; she just hoped he would. If she knew mena"and she did, with ten older brothers to instruct hera"his knowing she had compiled a list with his name on it would fire both his anger and his interest. His pride would be p.r.i.c.ked, as would his manly desire to win at any game, any compet.i.tion. And so he would competea"to be her husband. She would have her Irish estate and, if Montwyn did as she expected, a husband who didn't smell like a dirty dish.

Dalton met Lindley in the foyer as he was pulling on his new gloves. He was in fine mettle and it showed.

"Rest easily, Lindley; I'd wager Clarissa will choose Montwyn within the week, if Montwyn can be properly encouraged to offer for her."

"Really?" Lindley asked, trying to decide just when this decision on Clarissa's part could have taken place. Of course, there was Beau to entice to the altar as well. If Clarissa was of a mind to accept Montwyn, there was no time to waste in getting Beau to offer for her. She was so changeable lately that any delay could ruin the whole arrangement.

Dalton hurried out, every item of clothing in perfect place, to find Montwyn and do his cheerful best to push him into matrimony.

Lindley, unfortunately, did not know this and left hurriedly on exactly the same errand.

Only Russell, who had heard the short exchange from the study, was of a different mind. It was obvious to him that both Dalton and Lindley were well-disposed to having Montwyn a part of their family. He, however, was much less certain of the man's worth as Clarissa's husband. Montwyn had a reputation as a hard man, and Clarissa, with her outspoken ways, would have an easier time of it with a milder sort of fellow. Certainly Clarissa could be convinced of this bald truth.

He approached her door quietly, only to hear her talking softly with Perry. It didn't sound the sort of conversation one intruded upon, and so he left to make his way to Montwyn, to put him off Clarissa, by whatever means he could find, and onto another girl. Young Mary Beckham was a lovely girl of sweet temperament and radiant complexion. If he were in the market for a wife, he'd be easily induced to look her way. He could not imagine that Montwyn would see her any differently.

He had forgotten completely how blind a brother could be to his sister's appeal.

"Is it possible that you are unaware how completely ridiculous the entire idea is?" Perry asked, as close to fury as he had ever come. "You've made a list? That is absolutely not the way to choose a husband. What if none of the men on your list offers for you? What good then, Clarissa?"

"Not offer?" She laughed. "They'll all offer for me. What is wrong with you to have so little faith in me?"

"And if they do, then whom will you pick if all are equal upon your list?"

Perry reached over and took the list from the table, reading aloud.

"Benson, Esherton, and Montwyn! They're all impossible; surely you can see that, Clarissa. How have you compiled this list, for such unsuitable men to be grouped together so cozily?"

"They are not unsuitable," she snapped. How could he put Beau in with Benson? Was it possible that a man did not see a suitor in the same light as a woman would? Could any man, even Perry, be that blind? "And I've compiled my list by priorities. My priorities. Land in Ireland is my first concern. His owning an estate in Ireland is more important than anything."

"It must be for Montwyn to appear on your list."

"Why else would he be there?" she said stiffly. "I simply must return to Ireland, Perry. You, of all people, should understand that."

Perry sat down next to her and took her hand in his. "I don't want you to go back," he said gently. "I don't want it to be so important to you."

"But it is," she said, stroking his hand. "I must go back."

Perry dropped his head and sighed. "Are you still having the dream?"

Images jolted into her mind's eye at the question, unwelcome images of red coats and bright blood and blazing fire. Swirling and unwelcome shades of red burned behind her eyes. And then screams and gunfire and explosion; the sounds of war and battle and pain. All were viewed from above, as if she had no part in it. But she was a part, had been a part, could not forget. She would never forget the screams of a dying man, the eyes of an English soldier.

She forced herself to keep her expression calm as she answered, "Not as much."

Perry, it seemed, was unconvinced. "You should stay here," he p.r.o.nounced, and not for the first time. All her brothers were in agreement on that: keep Clarissa out of Ireland.

"If I am in Ireland again, the dream will leave me," she said, standing and escaping his touch. She felt trapped and hated it; she should not feel trapped by Perry. He loved her.

"I don't know why it would," he said, his eyes never leaving her.

"It just would," she insisted. "I must go back."

"Albert will never allow it."

"It will no longer be Albert's decision," she said softly, hiding her triumph.

"Your husband will leave you in Ireland while he lounges in England?" Perry asked mockingly. At her nod, he said, "It is at moments like this that I wonder how well you truly understand men, Clarissa."

"I understand them well enough," she said, and then laughed, breaking the somber mood. "Each one of these men will offer for me by year's end." And at that she was being conservative. She doubted it would take even two weeks. She would be married by Christmas.

"Even Montwyn?" Perry asked.

Clarissa smiled. "Even Montwyn." Especially Montwyn.

Lindley called upon Beau at his home on Grosvenor Street and managed to catch him in.

"Well done, Beau," he greeted upon being directed into Beau's handsome library.

Beau rose from his chair at the greeting and said, "While I enjoy praise as earnestly as any man, for what am I being congratulated at this hour of the day?"

"Why, for your success with Clarissa," Lindley said, a scowl just beginning to form at the evidence of Beau's ignorance. "Whatever you have done must be working quite to your advantage, because she is more than half prepared to accept an offer of marriage from you."

"Really?" Beau said with a bemused smile.