The Dukes Ulterior Motives

Amanda Bixby

Copyright 2011 Amanda Bixby

This book is licensed for your personal use only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to Amanda Bixby and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter 1

London, England July 1802

Walking slowly, Clarissa stepped into a small, cramped office; a musty smell lingered in the air, and contradicted the clean and tidy appearance of the room. The furnishings, jammed into the room, were dark and heavy, oversized even for the rotund gentleman standing near the desk. Mr. Grumbley offered her a chair, rounded the desk, and sat uncomfortably as he waited for her to settle herself. Clarissa perched herself on the edge of the proffered chair; its large size launched her mind into childish memories of being a small child. A flash from the past took her to a time when she had been a rebellious little girl who had been called to her fathers study, and then stood defiantly while she awaited the reprimand that was sure to come after she had devilishly hid a frog in her sisters wardrobe. Fortunately, she could now find the humor in those memories. She could see in her minds eye the stern look of her father, which had quickly turned to booming laughter after she had been dispensed to her room in way of punishment. Those simple moments were strong in her memory. The smell of old books and crisp cigars, the dust swirls dancing in the sunlight as it trickled through the tall windows behind her fathers desk. Sometimes it hurt to remember, to think of times when things were different, when life was different, memories of a time when she wasnt so alone. Shaking off her reminiscence, Clarissa edged forward on the leather seat, which was the only way to keep her legs from dangling off the floor. Quietly snorting in derision she told herself to stop being such a ninny. She was no longer a little girl, and she wasnt about to be punished. At least, she didn't suspect that that was her fate. This was simply a routine meeting to settle the estate of her parents, and to inform her of all the details need to ensure their smooth transition; but a nagging doubt still lingered in the back of her mind. It was not as if she had been having a great stretch of good luck recently. Thank you for coming this morning, Miss Brighton, I hope you are well. Mr. Grumbley promptly stated.

Indeed, as well as can be expected under these circumstances, Mr. Grumbley. Clarissa replied in an impatient tone with the hope that he would get on with the business at hand. Mr. Maurice Grumbley, a portly and skittish gentleman, now in his ancient years, had been employed as the Brighton familys solicitor for as long as Clarissa could remember. This man knew Clarissa Brighton as well as he had known her father and mother before their tragic end. Clarissa knew he would not steer her wrong.

Mr. Grumbley wondered if he looked as poorly as he felt. He had felt ill all morning thinking of the news he had to give this grieving young lady; a young lady whom he had watched grow up into the woman that was sitting before him today. He had to admit her life had taken many strange and twisted turns. Tragedy had left her all alone, shouldering more obligations than a gentleman of her young years would have been able to handle. She had noticeably changed after the carriage accident that had mournfully taken the lives of her loving parents. The difference in her may not have been obvious to others, but he could see the toll it had taken on the girl. He could plainly see the evidence of her pain written clearly on her delicate face. Her parents had taken to calling her Clarry, it had been a befitting moniker to describe her cheerful nature as a small child, but in the recent years she had voiced a wish to be called by her full and proper Christian name. Clarissa sat before him today having become an undeniably beautiful lady of twenty with an indisputable sense of class and comportment; as could have been said of her mother as well. Lady Brighton had been a dazzling woman who had stood out in a crowded ballroom. Her beauty and grace had set her far apart from the rest. Fortunately, her daughters had inherited her beauty; it would serve them well, undoubtedly helping immensely with what the future held for them. Unfortunately, Clarissa had also inherited unladylike scholarly ways from her indulgent parents. Clarissas love of reading and learning, a disinterest in society, and a refusal to entertain any ideas of marriage were the greatest divergence from societys idea a contented life for a woman, but it couldnt detract from the overall picture that was Clarissa Brighton. Her bluestocking ways had set her apart from fellow debutantes, tending to put off any searching gentleman and their interfering mamas. Her parents had not pushed her to follow

aristocratic ossifications, allowing her to refuse invitations to society's events, causing more than one criticism of her charactermuch to her detriment. The unhappy revelations he was about to bestow upon her would make her lack of societal experiences seem even more of a hindrance for her future goals, but, he had no doubt that her character was strong enough to overcome any and all that was thrown in her path. Looking at her today he saw the woman she was and how impressive she could be in the eyes of others. Clarissa was dressed befitting a grieving daughter, her pretty figure complemented by a gray morning dress, which was bland but well fitted, and conservatively cut in the latest style. The color reminded him of the cool-misty hour just before the sun completely broke free of the horizon, ready to greet the day. She was to most standards, plainly dressed, but instead of making her features seem drab it brought out and enhanced her beauty, giving forth to the woman within that was strong and proud. Pulling himself back from his thoughts he shuffled the papers in front of him. I wish to inform you of your fathers last will and testament. He hastily read from the papers which were nervously vibrating with the shaking of his hands. Miss Clarissa and Miss Lillian Brighton are to reside at Thornbridge Hall, while the estate of Richard Brighton, Duke of Huntley, will be held in trust. Miss Clarissa Brighton has one year to wed, upon which time she will become the guardian of Miss Lillian Brighton and her son will become the heir to the Huntley estates and Dukedom. Mr. Grumbley paused to wipe the sweat from his puckered brow then continued speaking. If Miss Clarissa Brighton does not wed in the afore mentioned specified time, guardianship of both Misses Brighton will be given to Lady Madeline Brighton, Duchess of Thornbridge; the title of Duke of Huntley will be dissolved; and the estate along with all it entails will be sold and said monies will be bequeathed to The Church of St. Peter in Westminster. He finished reading from the crisp document in front of him, as an afterthought added, Please let me explain that this is not your fathers doing, he had no choice in the matter. When your father produced no male heir this was the only conceivable way Parliament would allow his request to make you, as his oldest daughter, his legal heir. As you know this is just not normally done, your father is to be commended for his persuasive powers in this matter!

Clarissas glowered at Mr. Grumbley who visibly squirmed in his seat, he perspired profusely when nervous, which was now quite apparent to anyone in the general area by the odor he was emitting. It also explained the stench she had first detected upon entering his office. His round, damp face had become an odd tinge, a putrid shade of green mixed with splotches of brilliant red across his rounded cheeks and his large protruding ears. He clutched the edge of his oversized desk, knuckles whitening as if ready to bolt or speedily waddle away as the case may be. The visualized image bubbled up a small and helpless giggle that she quickly hid by clearing her throat. Clarissa realized he was awaiting her reaction; she refused to give in to the anger. She held back the scream she wished she could she truly let loose on him and parliament alike. She had always known that having a daughter as an heir was not favored by society, but her father had assured her that he had paved the way, and she had nothing to fret over. Why would he not have explained the circumstances then? He should have given her some notice of what lay ahead for her, some small warning. She felt betrayed and deeply hurt by her father's lack of forthrightness; he had known how difficult this would be for her. His duty should have been to prepare her for such circumstances. If only she known what laid ahead for her she may have spent more time looking for a husband then with her nose buried in a dusty book. Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. After a few moments she felt her heart beat slow to an even pace and her breath become more normal and even. With a polite nod she urged him to continue, she was forced to compress her lips tightly to keep them from trembling with the overwhelming emotion she was attempting to repressshe refused to let anyone see her fall apart.

Mr. Grumbley released the desk and pushed his rotund frame back in his chair, he truly hoped her unexpected calmness would continue through this unfortunate meeting. Lady Madeline Brighton, widow of your fathers brother, will be your and Lilys guardian for the next year or until you wed. I understand you do not have any knowledge of relatives other than your sister, Miss Lillian, but she is indeed family, and unquestionably stated as your guardian in your fathers will and testament. I am unsure of why Her Grace has never attempted correspondence before now but she does send her deepest condolences. He quickly added, out of breath.

Not waiting for a response he quickly continued in attempts to soften this unfortunate news. Her Grace is a kindly gentlewoman and would like to offer her protection to you and your sister. She has also consented to offer room to any staff you wish to accompany you and Miss Lillian." Clarissa realized what his intent stare upon her meant; it, unfortunately, showed that although he gave the appearance of being a weak man he would be unbending on this specific matter. "It is an offer that would be detrimental to your reputation if refused He stated, As you are unwed women alone without a proper chaperone. I would expect that you would leave for Thornbridge Hall with all due haste. Clarissa acknowledged that no reply was required. She also saw that she had no reasonable arguments; all he had stated was true, she would have to accept that her life would never be the same. The thought of losing Lillian, her only family, was unbearable; pushing back tears, shaking herself from her thoughts, Clarissa nodded gracefully to Mr. Grumbley and stood, offering her hand. He hid his surprise with a polite bow and placed her hand upon his sleeve, and escorted her through the door to the street where he stopped next to her carriage. Transport will be readied to remove yourself and Miss Lillian to the country in the morning. Her Grace resides mainly at Thornbridge Hall, in Somerton; I'm positive you will find it more than adequate for you needs." Again Clarissa nodded politely and turned toward the street where her carriage stood waiting; she stopped and waited as the steps were lowered by Tuttle, their family's much loved footman. Tuttle had been employed with the family since she had been a small child. He was a curious character who seemed to be melting with each year that passed, his skin sliding like mud on a damp slope, forming wrinkles and furrows across his happy face. His back was now arching and his shoulders drooping, but she still thought of him as the handsome man he was when she was a little girl. Tuttle hadnt changed much over the years, his eyes were clear and bright; always smiling with a soft, warm brown that reminded her of the chocolate she occasionally drank in the morning and his smile, a little crooked, was forever present and made him seem a younger man.

Everything as it should be, Miss? Tuttle queried. Yes, Tuttle, all is well. Ill go home now, please. Yes, Miss, on our way we are. He said with his quirky smile and a mischievous wink. Sliding onto the seat, Clarissa sat and looked unseeingly out the window. She watched the streets of London pass with a blank stare, not really seeing anything around her. Shed been in London most of her life, her parents had rarely used their country house, Huntley Hall. They had greatly loved London. The Duke and Duchess of Huntley had favored the balls and operas, basking in the city's fast pace and beauty. They had been known as social butterflies jumping from one ball to the next, dancing like leaves with the wind; they had floated and swirled, smiled and laughed, and often shared sly glances from across the room. What she remembered most was that they had simply loved each other, enjoyed each other, and had been happy. They had been beautiful people, inside and out. Clarissa missed them so much her chest felt tight and her mind seemed overwhelmed with memories that she didnt want to lose ,but was afraid that she had no choicetime could be cruel and heartless. The last few days had been the hardest of her life. She had woke up this morning thinking it couldnt possibly get any worse. She was definitely wrong. She had to do what needed to be done to take care of Lillian. She couldnt help questioning herself. What was she going to do? Shed never thought of marrying, she had never as a child, thought of finding a husband and settling down to have a family of her own. Her parents had never insisted that their daughters follow the normal expectations of societyshe had spent her time reading and learning, more interested in the latest literary talk then the slanderous gossip that was on the minds and tongues of other young ladies her age. Becoming educated had never seemed such a disadvantage as it did at this moment. She had no experience in finding and attracting a man, never having flirted or spent hours conversing about absolutely uninteresting subjects. She had never even entertained the thought of marriage or having children of her own, although, now that she thought about it, it didnt seem like such a horrible prospect. The problem would be to find a man that she could live with, she had never pondered what kind of man she would want to share her life with. She had never thought of the kind of man it would take to teach her about the subjects she could never learn about between the covers of a dusty book. She wanted the relationship that her parents had so enjoyed during their too-short

life, but thought that idea may be too reaching for her current circumstancesshe would need to be more pragmatic and less romantic. No matter what she told herself, the difficult question still lay ahead waiting for an answerwhat kind of man would she want? Hed have to be gentle, caring, able and eager to converse. Of course, hed have to be a man that could make her laugh and smile. That was a must. The problem was where to find this man. Who would he be, what would he want in return from their life together? Would he expect her to be a proper duchess all through their life, or would he enjoy her happiness, letting her live as she was, a spirited woman. What am I thinking? Clarissa scolded herself out loud. I just need to find a husband that I can stand being in a room with for more than a minute, now is not the time to get finicky. A husband is a husband if it means I can be with Lillian and save our home. She is the only sister I have, and our house is the only home we have ever truly known. She muttered out loud. I will do what needs to be done and not complain. She would indeed do anything if it meant she could be with Lillian. Why else would she consider changing her life as she now knew it? She could be sacrificing any hopes of having a happy life; ending up instead with a marriage she didnt want and didnt need, ending up with marriage that couldnt make her happy. The important thing now is not to let Lillian know of the situation; she would just worry and try to talk her out of doing what needed to be done. The slowing of the carriage brought Clarissa out of her dejected thoughts. Looking around, she watched as her home came into view. It wasnt as ostentatious as others around, but nor was it a small cottage. Others with the great wealth her family possessed had built much larger homes, huge lumbering mansions that were for show and not living. She had never looked at it as a sign of her fathers prosperity and success in life as others must tend to doit had always just been their home. She could only see it as a happy place where laughter could have been heard drifting through the open windows and a family could have been seen as they danced and played together. A beautiful old manor, similarly built, but somehow it stood out like an elegant rose in a patch of wild daisies. The carriage stopped, and a groom rushed to the heads of the grays pulling her fathers favorite black carriage. Tuttle lowered the steps. Clarissa dropped her small silk slipper clad feet to the earth, looking upward.

The roof of the house stood tall and sloped, majestic with its many noble peaks as it pointed skyward like a crown on a sturdy brow. The entrance, a welcoming portal that offered respite to all that would approach was surrounded by roses of many colors like a bouquet waiting for their sweet scent to be inhaled. Clarissa was drawn to the enormous front door, walking as if in a deep sleep. Reaching for the pull she realized Tuttle was speaking to her. Miss Clarissa? Yes, Tuttle? She turned and gave him a reassuring smile. Right sure I am, miss. Sure of what, Tuttle? She asked him in confusion, wondering if she had missed something as her mind had wandered, which it seemed to do quite often these days. Allll be as it should, my dear child, yar parents would ne'er let go without makin sure that all would be right as rain. No sir, they wouldnt, ya two were there lives, they loved ya both so much. Indeed, Im absolutely positive you are correct, my dear Tuttle. Flashing him a confident smile, she turned to hide the sad tear that glistened as it slipped slowly down her cheek. Entering, she breathed deeply, a warm fresh scent drifted up to greet her, one that used to lift her spirits and offer comfort. Sturdy but light, curvaceous furnishings stood all around, handpicked by Clarissas mother. Happy memories flooding Clarissa's mind and made her want to weep with the disparity of the situation. Clarissas mother had loved making a room come alive. She had chosen draperies that floated and danced with the warm summer breeze, chests that stood elegantly beside stately chaises with tall backs that were perfect for small giggling girls to peek from behind while spying on their parents. A beautiful settee in a rosy hue sat chaperoning the room looking like an elegant matron at a ball. Her parents would sit there, heads close, holding hands as they talked and flirted for hours, stopping only to laugh and occasionally kiss. Their home, comfortable and peaceful even to the most elementary of eye, held sweet memories of times passed, times never to be again. The place that had made her feel so happy and protected was now filled with sadness.

Standing quietly in the center of the foyer she looked around herself as if she were in a strange dream. The house was now quiet and seemed to carry a sense of unrest that made Clarissa feel uncomfortable and afraid. A change of scenery may well help both her and Lily. She walked up the stairs, her gray silk slippers padded silently; she turned down the long hall of the wing that held her parents' apartments. It was considered to be quite unfashionable, but they had refused to be separated in life as they had also in their death. Entering the bedroom, she looked about as if seeing the room for the first time. Everything had been left exactly as it had been before their trip, including the many gowns that had been laid over a chair near the armoire. Clarissa had watched her mother dress for the day, the excitement had made her mother bubble, she had be so looking forward to spending a quiet afternoon with her husband, the love of her life. She had spent longer than usual fixing her hair and making sure everything was perfect. Ironically, Clarissa had lain upon the bed, wondering out loud why she would ever suffer such nonsense for a gentleman, let alone her husband. Her mothers reply was an amused smile followed by a statement that she had thought strange in the moment. "Love comes in strange places, at strange times; bringing many new and frightful feelings, but if you stand tall and don't run from it the wondrousness of it will stay with you forever." Clarissa thought over the meaning of those fateful words as she walked around the room, running her hand over the silky wood and soft flowing fabrics of furniture and drapes, seeing her mothers fanciful taste in it all. The room was filled with pale yellows, gold and creams, all of it came together to make the room airy and light. She had always loved this room, feeling calm and safe whenever she entered through the large double doors that stood as a gateway to her mother's havenneeding that feeling now more than ever. She slipped serenely under the calming, pale-yellow coverlet. Clarissa couldnt help but smile at the clean scent of the lavender water her mother used as it mingled enchantingly with the crisp pine scent of her fathers soap. Enfolding the pillow with her arms, she clung to it like a small child afraid of the dark. Drifting and floating, she closed her eyes, willing sleep to come, willing it to take her away from this place, this seemingly end of herself. Tears flowed freely for the first time since she was a child who had scraped her tender knee, she had thus far been in shock and her mind firmly denied that they were truly gone. The truth now slammed her forcefully, her heart was broken,

ripping the air from her lungs, she cried until there were no more tears left to shed, and then all became dark with the gentleness of sleep. Clarry, I have been searching all over for you! Blinking awake, she set her sleep blurred eyes on Lillian, unsure if she were truly awake or caught in a dream. Clarissa waited for her eyes and her mind to clear, looking intently at Lily, a slight girl often mistaken for younger than her sixteen years. Large blue eyes stared back from a small round face with a button nose, her golden brown hair swung down her back almost to her hips. She was destined to be a devastating figure when she was older. She would have gentleman and bounders alike tripping over her hems, following like puppies nipping at her heels. She would have no trouble at all attracting a fine gentleman, as they seemed to even now flock to her natural beauty, fighting one another to get close to her beauty. Clarry are you awake? Lillian asked exasperated. Yes, of course, why have you been looking for me? Shaking herself, Clarissa rubbed her eyes, trying to accelerate the clearing of the sleep induced fog that had settled in her head. Its time for luncheon. Mrs. Pierce has set out cold meats on the garden patio. She replied with a worried look. Didnt you hear the gong sound? I must have been more tired than I thought. Im sorry. Clarissa said, trying to reassure her. Give me a few moments and Ill be right there. Still speaking, she rushed past her sister to her own room. I wont be but a minute, I swear. Opening the door to her room, she set about putting herself to rights, quickly washing her face and shaking the wrinkles from her now crushed gown. She stopped her fussing as she looked into the mirror hung on the wall behind a chest of draws, seeing a shadow coming up behind her into the doorway. Gasping, Clarissa turned to see Lily standing in her door way looking forlornly, her brow wrinkled in concern. Holding Clarissas gaze she spoke softly, she asked the question Clarissa had been dreading. It didnt go well with Mr. Grumbley did it? Lily asked as if she had heard the pessimistic thoughts that seemed to twist and turn through Clarissa's brain. Placing her hand to her chest she tried to still her skittering heart, hoping to find the right words to give to her sister. Everything went fine, why would you ask such a thing?

You were crying, Clarry, you never cry! I miss Mamma and Papa, thats all. Everything will be all right, I promise. She said emphatically. Lily looked disbelieving, but allowed the little lie to pass, and walked to an overstuffed chair angled toward the fireplace. So what did he say to you then? We have an aunt who has requested we come live with her. Trying to pretend like her world wasnt crashing at her feet was not as simple as she thought it would be. She has a house in the country. We can stay there and in a year when Im one and twenty, I will be your guardian. Then we can go anywhere we wish. At least that was very nearly the truth; she only hoped it sounded believable to Lily. Clarissa had never been good at hiding anything, especially from her pesky all-seeing sister. Youre sure theres nothing more? Lillian questioned, looking mistrustfully at her. Indeed, nothing more. She lied. We are to leave immediately after we breakfast tomorrow, it would be best if after luncheon today you could pack what will be needed for a fortnight, Mr. Grumbley assured me he will have the remainder of our personal items sent to Thornbridge Hall. Clarissa was hopeful that her voice was even and normal so that Lily would stop the inquisition. Seeming to be happy with that, Lily stood and walked to the door. Stopping in the doorway, she turned slightly to look back at Clarissa and she gave her a small knowing smile. Clarry, you know youre a horrendous liar. Ill never know why you even try. With that said she turn away, her skirts swishing with each sauntering step as she walked down the hall, and disappeared from sight. Clarissa stood dumb founded for a moment; she gave an indignant unladylike snort as she watched her sister disappear down the hall. Lily was extremely smart for her years, even when they had been children, Lily could tell when she had been fibbing. They had always had a connection, they were sisters but also best of friends. Shaking her head ruefully, she followed in her vexing sister's wake to the garden patio for their afternoon meal. The morning had been quiet, Lily had said very little last evening and not much more this morning while preparing to depart. It was so unlike the normally prattling girl. Clarissa stayed silent, concerned but unsure of how to soothe the girls worried mind. The sound of horses being brought around to the courtyard brought her attention back to the present; she needed to ensure

they reached Thornbridge Hall without a hitch. Guiding the loading of trunks, she made sure all needed staff was comfortably seated in the carriages. All of it taking less than an hour, then they were on their way. Traveling quietly with Clarissa and Lily was, Mrs. Pierce, their housekeeper, an elderly lady more round than tall with straight, thinning white hair, tightly pulled back in a bun at the back of her head, and covered with a white cap. Her face was long and somewhat pinched, always scowling and more often than not, that scowl had been aimed at Clarissaas a rambunctious child she had tried the patience of the staff and her loving parents, but most especially, Mrs. Pierce's. As a younger woman, Mrs. Pierce had been the governess to both Clarissa and Lillian. Clarissa, as a child, had put the dear woman through her paces many a time, often causing her to loudly curse Clarissa with a wish for a future with children much like herself in nature and temperament. Both girls had known that Mrs. Pierce was tough on the outside but melted easily enough for her charming little charges. She loved them as they loved her, and they couldn't do without her even as young ladies past the age of needing a governess. She had been inserted into the housekeepers position to ensure her placement in the homethey had never been without her. Since the death of their parents she had been a comforting motherly figure in their lives. She had agreed to travel with them, and see they were settled, but insisted she must go back to see to their home until they were able to return. Mrs. Pierce laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Within minutes she drifted to sleep and was snoring quietly with puffs of air that filled her cheeks and whistled through her pursed lips. Clarissa looked at Lily and smiled, putting her finger to her curved lips, trying to silence the giggling girl. Eyes dancing brightly, Lily smiled around the slender hand she had placed over her mouth to stop the explosion of laughter. Clarissa was happy to see Lily's bubbly sense of humor returningit gave her a little much-needed, peace of mind.

Chapter 2

Thornbridge Hall Somerton, England July 1802

The trip was not too terribly long, and, fortunately, seemed to pass without too much impediment. The carriage slowed as it topped a large hill, looking through the window they watched their new home come into view. Lily, with her mouth agape, turned to Clarissa. "Is that it?" She asked. "I believe so, it's quite larger than I expected." Clarissa, too, was amazed at the sight of the grand manor. The carriage moved slowly downward over the long elegant driveway, which was flanked by rows of old stately oaks leading toward the impressive house. Large and imposing, the house stood surrounded by multi-colored flower beds, lush lawns, and neatly placed outbuildings. A fountain burbled its welcome from the center of the court yard; even at this considerable distance Clarissa could see a statue of a woman stood at the center of the flowing pool of water. Like a Greek goddess, she stood tall and beautiful with long flowing hair, her hand outstretched as if beckoning to those that neared, bringing them into the court yard and offering them refuge. Clarissas eyes continued to gaze around, taking in all that she could see; her lips speechless with wonder. The grounds around the house were green and healthy, likely due to the ambling stream that flowed off in the distance on the far side of the property. The tall roof peaks of another, even larger house, could barely be made out on the opposite side of the stream, drawing Clarissas eye. She wondered who would need a home as large as Lady Brighton's, let alone one larger. Most likely, it was owned by an arrogant aristocrat who wanted to announce to everyone how important he was. Drawing closer, Thornbridge Hall seemed to grow; the brick seemed redder, the walls seemed taller and wider, blotting out the world behind it. Sunlight sparkled and glinted off the

many windows along the front, tall and crystal clear as they reflected the blue of the sky, and made the house appear to be a magical floating castle in the clouds. Their small train of carriages came to a halt in front of an enormous oak door that stood easily as tall as two men. The pull consisted of a large ring, which encircled a lions head carved in a roaring pose, its mouth wide and teeth bared as if guarding the entrance like a beast ready to attack. The awe inspiring presence of Thornbridge Hall left their entire group speechless with amazement, standing dumbstruck in the court yard, none daring to approach the entrance. The door opened with a loud creek as if its hinges were straining with the weight. Out came a tall, gangly man who was impeccably dressed in black breeches, coat, waistcoat and a crisp white collared shirt. He glanced around with a stern look upon his face as if disapproving of their presence on the doorstep. Clarissa couldnt help but doubt her reasoning for coming here even though she knew she hadn't actually had much choice in the matter. She now wondered if the invitation had been given more out of propriety then offered out of the kindness of a caring aunt; this didnt seem to be the home of a kindly old woman, but more the domicile of a frigid ennobled duchess. From behind the disconcerting man came a small matronly woman, childlike in size, walking from the entryway toward the girls who were standing near the bottom of the steps which led to the house. Her lips were curved in a welcoming smile below a short pert nose and wide grey eyes. Her hair, gray but still holding streaks of midnight black tresses gave insight into her earlier years. The long and wavy mass was currently pulled elegantly back, leaving curving tresses to spread around her shoulders. Even with age this woman was beautiful, resplendence poured from her every pore as she greeted them, gracious and proper in every way. "Here you are; you have arrived at last. I'm your Aunt Maddy, no sense in keeping up formalities after all, we are family." "You must be Clarissa." Clarissa stood stock still in shock as Maddy took her hand, pulled her close and squeezed her tightly in an embrace so strong it knocked out what little breath was left in her lungs. "Oh, how beautiful you have become, a mirror image of your mother, simply amazing." Madeline set her away and grabbed up Lillian in a similar embrace. Stunned, Clarissa stood gape jawed. She had never compared herself to her mothers dazzling beauty, nor had she remembered ever seeing this woman before in her life. Her parents

had never said any more than telling her that her father had a brother who was titled through marriage. As siblings, they had enjoyed a close relationship, but had grown apart in older years. Clarissa now wondered at the interesting story that must be behind all the inexplicable discourse. "I'm sorry; forgive an old lady her excitement." The kind embraces followed by her heartwarming words gave way to the decorous woman hidden neatly behind a proper duchess facade. "I've never had children of my own. I have often wondered what had become of you, and where life had taken you dear girls." She confessed as tears glistened in her eyes, sadness apparent in her shaky voice, baffling Clarissa and Lillian. "Enough blubbering, come, come, let's get you settled. We'll have plenty of time to talk soon enough, you're here now, and thats what's important." Maddy said with a quick swipe of her hand across her cheek, dismissing the evidence of her emotion. Leading the way, Madeline gestured for them to follow, walking to the center of the entry hall she stopped and introduced Mrs. Raffer, a tall woman dressed tidily, wearing a stark white apron and shockingly bright red hair that made her face look sickly pale with deep set, brilliant emerald green eyes. Mrs. Raffer smiled, entrancing the girls with perfectly straight, pearly white teeth that were extremely rare for a servant and of which most ladies of aristocracy would kill for. "Our Mrs. Raffer will show you to your rooms, I think you'll be comfortable here, you must need to refresh yourselves before the evening meal." Madeline ushered them up the grand staircase with a wave and a shout. "Go, go on with you, you need rest!" Clarissa followed the housekeeper up the stairs, which were wide enough to allow ten men to walk abreast without brushing shoulders. Two small, young maids followed behind a few paces, their heads down with feet quickly but silently padding on the stairs as they walked, obviously well trained in the ridiculous ways of common servants. They turned down a short hall, which connected to another hallway, perpendicular to the first. Mrs. Raffer gestured to the left. "Abby will lead you to your room, Miss Clarissa, and gesturing to her right, Daisy will lead you to your room, Miss Lillian. We serve the evening meal in the family dining room at seven, use the bell pull to summon the girls and they will guide you to the drawing room once you've dressed." She left with a nod

to the little maids and a curtsey to Clarissa and Lillian, the maids then led Clarissa and Lillian to their respective rooms. Opening the door, Abby stood back to allow Clarissa to walk past her into the room. "Your dressing room and privy are through the door to the left miss." Abby said with a little shake in her voice. The girl looked frightened, Clarissa wondered if she had ever been a lady's maid before today. "Abby, how long have you been with Maddy?" "Umm, not long, Miss, are you unhappy with me, I have offended you havent I? I promise to do better; you wont even know that Im here!" "Take a deep breath, my dear; I was just curious, you've done absolutely nothing wrong, I have no intentions of sending you away." She assured her. "I have an odd need to know those close to me, and you and I will need to become quick friends if we are to understand each others needs." Abby stood open mouthed staring at her in astonishment. "My apologies, Miss, but Leggars, the butler, said I was not to be my usual chatty self, that it would be opproopprobrious to your delicate nature. She stuttered over the large wordnot likely knowing its meaning. My dear, Mr. Leggars is an arse, neither I, nor my sister expects any member of the household to be a ghost in our presence, we expect you to give honest opinions and tell us when we are being silly or pretentious. Seeing the girls disbelieving expression, she tried again to convey her heartfelt words with her voice as well as her expression. You will be my ears, my eyes, even my conscience at times, I need you! Yes, Miss. Abbys sigh, along with her hesitant words, were filled with incredulity, but it didnt discourage Clarissa, she would allow Abby time to see for herself as she imagined many would need to do. Putting aside the discussion, she looked around the room that was to be hers. Clarissa did a small pirouette, looking over every detail from the intricate molding at the ceiling to the shiny brass knobs on the tallboy. It was stunning and opulent room, more than she could ever have imagined being hers. The bed was large with a golden coverlet, overloaded with matching pillows in more shapes and sizes then she had ever seen. It was surrounded by a silk bed curtain of the same golden

color, the room shimmered with the rays of sunshine peering through the window, which was as long as it was tall and covered most of the far wall. Clarissa walked to the window, drawn to the warmth emitted by the glossy panes, her slippers made no noise on the plush cream rug that covered almost the entire floor as she traveled the length of the room; she then noticed the window was actually a door onto a slate covered stone balcony. Throwing the doors wide, she walked out, the view was glorious; Clarissa followed the horizon with wide eyes. She saw a quaint little wooden bridge bisected the stream running along the property line. Flowered vines and ivy covered the structure sheltering it from the elements; it looked to be perfect for a dreamy afternoon rest, although, she couldnt stop her face from becoming twisted in disgust when she sighted the angry blight intruding on the awe-inspiring picture before her. On the other side of the wandering stream stood a house, a house that was monstrous and garish in comparison to Maddys home. It was less a house and more aptly described as the castle of a fairytale villain. It was a large cold stone structure, standing silently in the distance, its darkness making shivers run down her spine. Clarissa hugged herself tightly to warm her suddenly chilled skin and huffed loudly before stalking back inside her room. Abby jumped with a start, and glanced up with weary look. "Is all well miss? In Clarissa's absence she had dutifully started to unpack the traveling trunk that had just moments ago been delivered by a footman. She was currently shaking out a gown and hanging it neatly next to the others in the wardrobe. "Yes, just wonderful." Clarissa attempted a smile to put the girl at ease; however, she couldnt stop the frown that returned to her face. "Abby, who owns that monstrous; what I meant to say, is who owns the estate on the other side of the stream? Luckily she caught her tongue before she uttered the unladylike description she had been thinking. "That would be, His Grace, Darian Wellbrook, Duke of Whitterly, and a close friend of your aunt, miss." Abby turned back to the wardrobe to continue hanging gowns, missing the selfberating scowl that crossed Clarissa's face. At least she hadn't stuck the proverbial slipper in her big mouth while questioning Maddy. Putting her hand to the back of her neck, Clarissa squeezed in attempts of relieving the crick that had settled there during the bumpy ride to Thornbridge Hall. "I feel as if I've been cramped

up for months in that carriage." She said trying to ease the awkwardness that had filled the room after her questioning. "Her Grace has beautiful gardens, if I may suggest, Miss; you could go for a stroll. Stretch your legs a bit. Im sure the air will do you good." Clarissa lit up at the happy prospect of clean, fresh air, and a little time to be alone with her nagging thoughts. "Lovely idea, Abby, that's just what I need." Wandering, she opened cupboards and draws, not finding what she was looking for; she then stopped and turned to Abby looking perplexed. Abby smiled holding out a small, stylish pink parasol. "Is this what you need, Miss? You can take the steps at the end of the balcony straight into the gardens." She said with a smile and a deep curtsey. "You are a wonderful girl Abby." Clarissa hugged the shocked girl and skipped out onto the balcony. She bouncingly danced down the slate stairs to the gray graveled path that weaved playfully through the gardens, opening her parasol; she held it high and felt a happy smile come to her face for the first time in weeks. The outdoors had always made her feel better, the fresh air that had always helped to clear her mind was rarely found in crowded London. And if there was ever a time when she needed an unclouded mind, it was now. She let her mind go blank as she wandered and breathed in the sweet smell of the flowers. The sun shining brightly made the afternoon warm and comfortable; not a cloud to be seen, the breeze was light and friendly as it caressed her cheek. The tree tops were green canopies swaying gently, waving their greeting to her as she strolled by. The bees buzzed past as they tirelessly searched for nectar, butterflies floating from one petal to another, their delicate wings carried them gracefully on across the gardens. The joy of being free and happy was in her step, gliding down each turning and winding path only to find another ahead, pulling her in a new direction to see where it lead and what beauty she would find along the way, enjoying the perfect summer afternoon. She stopped after a while, finding a cozy wooden bench nestled under a giant weeping willow, the air was many degrees cooler in the shade. She sat, unable to deny the thoughts pressing her burdened mind any longer. Things had to be considered and processed, and this situation needed much attention, immediate decisions definitely needed to be made. An isolated garden, beautiful and full of life was the perfect place for such things, this place was more isolated then she had thought it would be. Questions new and old started to enter her

thoughts; one in particular niggled at herwas it going to be possible to find a husband in the middle of nowhere? She was at a definite disadvantage in the country; her options would be limited here at Maddys to say the least. There obviously weren't going to be any grand balls or extravagant garden parties with gentlemen aplenty for her to compare, and all in all, she knew choosing the right man for her needs would be difficult. Speaking with Maddy was most likely her only recourse, she may have ideas that would only occur to one who lived immured in the country. She couldn't help but think the best solution would be to return to Londonat least there she would have a fighting chance in the way of the bevy of fools that seem to appear every season. She put that particular aspect of her worries out of her mind until she had a chance to discuss them with Maddy. No sense worrying over something she couldnt do anything about. It's not like she was going to stumble upon a perfect husband growing wild in these gardens, although, it would undoubtedly make matters much easier. The silly notion made her giggle and grin like a young miss in a school room, imagining a handsome man growing tall like an oak, picking up roots at her request and loving her forever, never straying from her side, protecting her, and giving her happy little saplings to raise to become tall handsome oaks in their own right. Of course, it would end happily ever after just like the fables she had loved so much as a girl. A small smile curved at her lips, she pulled herself from the childish fantasies, pushed herself up, stood, and aimed herself toward the delightful little bridge she had seen from her balcony, needing to explore a little more before she had to return to reality, putting her thoughts away for the moment. There was plenty of time to think, after all, she did have a year, well, almost a year. She couldnt help but think of her parents as she strolled, watching her pretty little slippers peak out from under her mint green walking dress with each step, and unconsciously twirled her parasol as she traveled along. On the day of her parents deaths, they had gone for a picnic, refusing to allow their daughters to accompany them. The couple had wanted time alone, yielding to Clarissa and Lillian request for a subsequent trip for the entire family the following afternoonyet, there hadn't been a following afternoon for their family, and there never would be for her parents ever again. A single tear slid slowly down her cheek, dropping among her skirts, causing the material to change, to darken with wetness, the tiny drop of moisture quickly dried in the sunlight, disappearing, unfortunately, her thoughts refused to go away so easily.

Scuffing a foot gently every few steps, Clarissa continued on, she watched tiny pebbles as they rolled and ticked down the graveled path in front of her. A loud clop, clop behind her brought her senses back to the present, someone was following her, turning quickly, a panicked squawk stuck in her throat as a man slammed into her, knocking her breath from her lungs, a white cravat perfectly tied, tickled her nose. He held her to his chest, a completely masculine chest, wide and muscled. Strong arms enfolded her, trapped her, his warm breath fluttered against the top of her hair. Shed never been held so closely by a man, her breast pressed against a hard chest, her belly against his strong hips, her hands gripped muscled arms that had instinctively wrapped around her, and held her tight. She pushed herself away from the tingling that had spread at his touch, a tingling that had quickly taken over her body, burning her skin as if touched by a flame; she stood back a step. Clarissa held herself stiffly, and attempted to prevent her wobbly legs from buckling, shock prevented her from speaking. The only defense she could muster was the glare she leveled upon him. This man was a tall oak if she ever saw one, if he hadn't held onto her when they had collided, she would surly have been knocked to the ground, most assuredly injured in the process. He stood at least a full head taller than her; she had to tilt her face back to see his eyes. Broad in the shoulders, slim in the hips, and long in the legs; he was a magnificent specimen of man, and, unfortunately, he took her breath away.

Darian stood stock still and stared back at her, his mind tripping over its self in attempts to devise an apology. He had never seen anyone as beautifuland as furious as she was. She was obviously simmering just below the surface, she looked about to explode, he couldn't stop the smile that curved his mouth. She was utterly amazing. Long, ebony hair, silky, and if his nose had served him correctly, sweetly smelling of lavender, hung swaying down her back past her perfectly rounded hips. Enchanting eyes that seemed more violet then blue held him, making him unable to speak; he was rooted to the spot. Her skin was a delicate peach and slightly rosy at her cheeks, most likely from her bubbling anger, her nose straight and aristocratic, and her chin delicate and held high. Her mouth was awe inspiringly full and pink, drawing him in, wanting to be tasted, their sweetness begging to be

tested. He couldnt halt the silent questions that rushed his mindwould her lips reactwould she kiss him backwould her eyes close in pleasure?

Clarissa held her breath at the heat in his expression; he was staring at her mouth. His wide, full lips spread into a smile; dimples deepened in his whisker shadowed cheeks, and made his face look young and devastatingly handsome. His hair was slightly too long, and looked to be silky smooth as it brushed at his collar, the color almost as dark as her own. He looked to be entertaining the idea of devouring her, his lips lifted at the corners, his gaze hot and penetrating. Stepping backwards, she brought her hand to her breast as if to protect herself. The added distance between them allowed her to also look her fill. He was dressed in a perfectly fitted black coat, maroon waistcoat; an impeccable white shirt, well-fitting tan breeches, and his Hessians looked recently polished and unmarred. Hearing the rumble of a deep laughter suppressed in his chest, she blushed realizing he had noticed her perusal of his awesome form. The arrogant fool, who did he think he was? "Sir, what are you doing here?" His smile became even bigger at her haughty tone; it spread easily to his eyes, which were dark, nearly black with golden flecks dancing in their center. A simple gaze from him made her feel small and helpless. She was even more beautiful when she was in an all-out fit of anger, he wondered if she could get any more beautiful, imagining how she would look laughing and smiling at him. He decided the sight would probably bring him to his knees. Snapping loose of his daydream, he heard her little foot tapping impatiently, and realized she was waiting for his answer. "Im walking." He replied, humor dripping from his words. "Don't be coy with me, why are you here, in this garden?" Her breath huffed in anger. You are presently trespassing in this garden; I demand an immediate explanation for your presence! She nearly shouted at him. Looking past the shoulder of the enticing woman who stood before him, he noticed the small girl watching themthe only girl who he could always count on making his life more difficult than it already was, and habitually cutting short any moment he might find enjoyable. He needed to stop this conversation now before his sister Felicity, the pest, saw more then she should at the tender age of sixteen. He knew full well where his mind was leading him; it

had been a very long time since a woman had aroused him so quickly and easily. He wondered if she realized how she was making him feel, if she was feeling the same spark that he was, igniting her as it did him. He definitely needed to have a word with the interrupting child presently trying to duck down so as not to be seen. He turned his attention back to the woman in front of him and again answered her question. "Im walking." Was again his only reply as he swung past her, and arrogantly strolled down the path toward the bridge, heading directly toward Felicity. He could have just as easily explained that he was the nearest neighbor and welcomed her, but Darian couldn't stop himself from nudging her just one last time. The fire that flared in her eyes at his arrogant words heated him from the inside out; she made him want to drag her home with him and never let her go. Darian shook his head in disgust; he had never before had such a strong reaction to a woman, especially a reaction that pulled from him all his good sense along with his manners. He wanted to wring his sister's neck, but figured if his beautiful woman of the garden was Maddy's house guest, then he would be seeing a lot of herthere was plenty of time to see where things could lead them. Glowering, Clarissa headed back toward the house, stomping with each step; silently she hoped the delicate little bridge she had so wanted to explore, would collapse under the weight of his overinflated head. The direction he took told her his identity as well as any words could have; obviously he was the Duke of Whitterly, and he definitely lacked the manners taught to boys while they were still in short pants. He hadn't even apologized for nearly killing her. The man was rude to say the very least. It seemed the only gentleman within a close distance of the Hall was an ogre, not a suitable option for a husband; she would absolutely need to talk to Maddy about going back to London. She would not be able to find a husband here if he was an example of the men she would meet.

Chapter 3
Crossing the bridge, Darian shook his head ruefully. He strolled nonchalantly toward Felicity who had come out of hiding and now stood on the path trying her best to look innocent, but unable to hide the defiant glare that always glittered there in her eyes, clear for him to see. Felicity, his younger sister by fourteen years, forever battled against his authority. Since their parents deaths, five years prior, she had been rebellious and angryat not only him, but at the world in general. Felicity had taken it upon herself to ensure he suffered a just punishment for her loss; Darian had understandingly endured her dissatisfaction for her life. He felt sorry for the girl as she had not truly known her parents or the position they had put him in as their heir. In Felicity's eyes, he was a stingy man who had taken away the frivolous life their parents had so enjoyed; he had ruined the only life she had known. The truth in reality was far from the imaginings of a girl. Darian was working diligently to bring back wealth and honor to their family namesolely for her, which meant they often had to go without the trappings of the tonish life, and basic necessities were all he could afford these days. The late Duke of Whitterly, Darian's father, had frittered away all the family possessed, trying desperately to hide that their coffers were empty, he had lost everything except the ducal estate, which was endowed and, therefore, could not be sold along with all the rest. Darian had never explained to Felicity their financial state; he felt it cruel to disparage the parents she had loved so dearlythey had doted on the child. Her behavior reminded him daily of the loathing he had felt toward his selfish parents. Darian stood directly in front of Felicity, noting her stubborn look, her chin held high, and ready for a fight. At sixteen years of age she was young and intelligent, she would have her choice of wellborn gentlemen, but Darian knew she needed a dowry to attract the appropriate kind of gentlemana dowry, which, at that moment, he was not in a position to provide. She deserved to be happy, to have the life that he was unlikely to find, to have love, to have a family; she deserved to belong. His only option at this point was to find a wealthy bride, the thought turned his stomach, but there was no other choice.

Felicity was thought of as eligible now. She was small and petite, beautiful in face and form, but in a few years she would be thought of as a spinster and unmarriageable, left behind by the world. Society was cruel, but Darian knew the strictures that would be her future, and was determined to see that Felicity would be happy and settled. If that meant he had to find a wife, a wealthy wife, one that could guarantee Felicity would be welcomed into society, one that could refresh their accounts, then he would do it, for her alone. Darian looked at Felicity with a quirky smile, and attempted to soften her with kindness. What did you think of Maddys guest? Hopefully she would forgo the slashing words she was always eager to spit at him. Clearly seeing his tactics, she smiled innocently. Oh, Maddy has a guest? She offered, claiming to be oblivious of the awkward meeting she had just witnessed. Darian scowled at her, ready to confront her on the blatant lie, they both knew that she had been watching him every second of every day since he had informed her of their parents fate. He couldnt help but feel that she seemed to be waiting for something to happen. He had no idea of what it was, but her intent supervision of him had never wavered, not once. It made him feel uncomfortable and sad at first, but now, after five years, it just annoyed him, and made him feel like a prisoner in his own homeher eyes followed his every move, he couldnt escape her watch. It often caused him to snap at her, it was steadily destroyed the close and loving relationship they had once had many years ago. He couldnt help but wish that it had all had been different. He took a deep breath, calming his frustration. Felly, why do you have to be so difficult?" Darian asked softly, using the nickname he had given her when she was still toddling around the nursery, when she had smiled and laughed in happiness at the mere sight of him. She had always run to him and wrapped her arms around his neck as he picked her up, and pressed a loud smacking kiss to his rough cheek. She had always warmed his heart and freed his troubled mind with her simple childish honesty.

Surprised, Felicity stared agape at him, he had not used her pet name since she had been a little girl who had pestered him to read her a story before she went to bed at night, and he had always relented. He had spent hours reading one story after another, using funny voices for each

character, and making her giggle until he was ushered out of her nursery by the sour old nanny who had refused to believe that proper little ladies needed to have enjoyment in their life. Darian had been her only friend until he had left to join in the ton, he had rarely come back home after that. Their father had bitterly informed her that Darian was now a man and had no need of a small child toddling at his heels, holding him back. He had claimed that Darian had become the life of London and would not return. Darian had proven those hurtful words true by disappearing from her life for years only to return after their parents deaths. He was a different person now, he'd become gruff and grim, rarely speaking to anyone, and spending much of his time in pensive thought, oblivious of the world around him. He had become a perfectionist, always so concerned with being proper, and insisting that others following his example. He thought that he could erase the odium of their parents by being a gentleman, losing his spontaneity that she had loved so dearly. Now, his day always seemed to be the duplicate of the one that came before. She had been watching and waiting for him to be the person he had been before, slowly coming to terms with having lost him foreveruntil now. She couldnt remember seeing smile since before he had left her for London, but today he had smiled at the woman in the garden. His boyish charm seemed to surface, he looked again like the young man of his past, something or perhaps someone had brought him back to her, given her back the only family she had left. Her anger then returned, remembering the true man he was, a brother that had walked away and left her to the machinations of their parents. A brother who had left her alone with parents who thought it better to let the staff raise their only daughterthey could never have bothered to tell her stories or making her giggle. They had had little time for her, that is, until she was old enough for them to think of the wealth a beautiful and malleable daughter could bring if married to the right man. There was no pretty way to say itthey had basically wanted to sell her off to the highest bidder. Darian was no different; he too would most likely try to get rid of her. There was nothing left in their accounts. She was too smart for their parents, and she would be too smart for Darian too.

She had overheard her parents talking many times of the illicit schemes they had dreamt up to bring in coin. She had quickly figured out what they were trying to do, and thwarted all their attempted matches, causing more trouble than they could take. They had thought she was a disaster, hopelessly unmarketable, so they brought her to Whitterly Hall and dumped her while they returned to London alone. They had taken great delight in telling her often how difficult and useless she was. Darians behavior reminded her of their parents disappointment, and made her hardened her feelings toward him, not allowing the fear of losing him again show. She could only hope that if he couldn't get her married off, he too would leavethat's what her parents had done and it had suited her just fine. I guess Im just difficult by nature. Felicity replied with a careless shrug, turning she walked toward the house, leaving Darian to follow on his own. Remembering Maddy's invitation, Darian yelled to the girl. "Maddy requested we dine with her and her guests tonight, be prepared to leave at six." Felicity kept walking, not turning, she waved in assent. Darian stood where he was; looking skyward and prayed for guidance, and wondered how he was going to make it through the next few years. Once Felicity found someone to wed, he could step back and let her husband deal with her. The thought made him smile, she could pester and make someone else stutter and grope for words. She was only sixteen, still a girl, bur when she became a woman, she would surly have perfected her slashing tongue. God help any man who would brave such a life, Heaven knows she had frustrated him enough in recent years. Darian walked toward home, strolling slowly, he could think of nothing but Clarissa Brightonand, in truth, she could very well be the solution to his problem. Maddy had said she was her fathers heir; and she would be a marvelous catch by anyone's standards. Clarissa was a wealthy, beautiful, spirited woman and a dream come true in his eyesa woman that he would have, undoubtedly, have avoided at all costs in the past. Young, unwed women had been a hazard to his lifestyle; he had enjoyed the hunt too much to look in their direction. He usually tended toward a woman who enjoyed being the prey to his predatory nature, a woman who was experienced in the life of the ton. He had spent very few nights in his own bed over the years, nocturnally dancing from one woman's bed to another, constantly searching for something which he had found to be unattainable. His life had left him feeling nothing but cold and alone.

Since coming back home to Whitterly Hall, he had come to a conclusionhe was a complete and utter fool. The women he had entertained in the past were not the type of women who could have ever fulfilled his ultimate needs. This theory had only occurred to him as his mind had cleared, and, in turn, had encouraged his celibacy since leaving London. He had become a monk, working to destroy the ruination his father had brought to their family. Clarissa was proof of the young fool he had been, he would never have spared her a second glace in the ballrooms of London, but now seeing her, he saw all the possibilities. She could be the reward his heart had longed for, and his soul had earned. Now, the single problem he could see standing in the way of convincing her to marry him was Whitterly Hall, once she laid eyes on the hideous monster she would know all his well kept secrets. Nearing the odd building, he looked at it, and saw nothing but a cold place he had always hated. A place he had escaped as soon as he had been able, leaving for London, trying to forget everything he had endured here. The daily lessons of his father had been tortuous; the warped man had tried to instill the importance of looks and outward appearances in his young heir. His father had believed the truth was inconsequential, he had often told Darian that the only thing that mattered was what others thoughtThe world is a theater, and if you play a character well, you can make even the most skeptical person believe in your deception. His fathers lessons were harder to run away from than the building itself had been. Darian had never believed any of the lectures he had received, seeing from an early age that his parents were mere shells of humans, they had bragged about being loved by others, and enjoying a full life of excitement and happiness. He had seen through the words, recognizing their empty lives for what they werea charade. Whitterly Hall was just as empty as his parents had been, a show of excess, which Darians father had always lovedextravagant on the outside but barren on the inside. Gray stone shot upwards at odd angles to form walls; very few windows embraced the light of day as the sun rose in the morning. It was almost always shadowed, dark and distant; the stark grounds around it were littered with dead flowerbeds, which had been empty for as long as he could remember. Inside was no better, the few sticks of furniture that hadnt been sold, were heavy and masculine, grotesque in Darian's eyes. Their home held no sense of family or warmth; often they had to light every single fireplace to take the chill from the air, even in summer.

He would love to pull the whole building down and start over but there were no funds for such things, he couldnt even replace the much needed furniture that had been removed over the years. Every coin he gained went toward the necessities and it was obvious that they still needed much more. What lady wanted to marry a pauper pretending to be a gentleman, especially a pauper-duke who was also came along with baggage in the way of a troubled sister and a dilapidated old castle? Entering through the side door, which led directly to the ducal apartments, he walked up the stairs, and through the dressing closet to the room he had taken as his own when his parents had died. They had rarely stayed here, preferring London to the distant and uneventful Whitterly Hall, only returning to scheme for funds, to disguise their immanent bankruptcy, or escape possible time in the debtors prison. Darian had decided after his parents deaths that the Hall was the best place for him to hide and think, a place to decide what must be done, also this was where his parents had left Felicity, and she had needed him, or so he had thought. He had left her in their clutches years ago, and he would always feel guilty for that. He was trying to make amends, coming back and staying, showing her with his proper actions instead of giving her the words that never seemed to come out right. He would make sure that he would be wherever she was, that was more important than anything else in this worldshe had to see that he loved her. Why else would he give up everything that had become his life? It tortured him to think that their parents had corrupted her innocent mind. She desperately needed a caring woman in her life, she needed to see what a true family could be, he wasn't even sure he had that knowledge. He needed to find a wife that could teach them both, to make them a true family, he knew only what a family wasn't, he was at a definite disadvantagethanks to the former Duke and Duchess of Whitterly. Entering the ducal apartments, Darian looked around the room and noted the large, oversized bed surrounded by blue velvet curtains. The grey, cold, and bare slate floor was just as he had remembered it as a child. A tallboy stood against one wall along with a heavy chest of drawers and a mahogany desk in the corner, a large fireplace on the opposite wall was the only thing that made the room livable, providing the much needed warmth. Two wingback chairs were placed in front of the fire, which was where Darian liked to spend his spare time, not that he had much time to sparehis life was now all about Felicity and the estate.

The ducal apartment had more amenities than any other room in the Hall, no doubt due to the selfishness of his father. As a child he had never been allowed to enter this room, or even this wing for that matter, but that hadnt stopped him from coming here when his parents were gone, searching for something that would show any form of humanity in his father. Unfortunately, everything was now his, the responsibility, and the ever-increasing debts, which were too numerous to counthe could never forget that, it was always there in the front of his mind. Everyone relied on him, expected him to help them, to feed them, it was his job to fix the many wrongs that had cursed this place for so long. He need to find a wife before he ended up in Fleet Prison, which seemed ever more closer as each day passed, he was in over his head, he had to find a way out. Men had begun to appear at his doorstep to request payment on long-held debts, they refused to allow him to get ahead, he was constantly having to use their meager funds to pay yesterdays notes only to write more, which would come due the next day. He had hoped that coming home would renew his relationship with his sister. Felicitys room was on the opposite side of Whitterly Hall, the wing reserved for the nursery, as far away from the ducal apartments as possibleby design, he was sure. Shortly after his return he had insisted she change rooms to one that was warmer and more comfortable, fearing for her health, but Felicity had stubbornly kept the room she had always had, refusing to change even if it was cold and damp. Their parents never truly wanted children, they had felt it was a necessary evil of being titled, and so heirs must be produced. They would have stopped after having him, a son, but felt it important to have a spare to ensure the Wellbrook name continued. Disappointed at having a female child they gave up not wanting to suffer any more than they had already endured. He had not pressed the matter of moving her to another room, believing Felicity had wanted the comfort of her childhood surroundings. He had informed the staff they were to continually stoke the fire and ensure she was warm and had not attempted to interfere in the situation again sinceleaving Felicity to her sanctuary. Pulling a decanter of brandy from the bottom drawer of the desk, Darian filled a small glass, and sat in front of the fire, relaxing as he took a sip, letting his mind wander to his dream lady. Maddy had told him she was her niece by marriage, the eldest daughter of the Duke of Huntley; his fingers tingled, remembering the feeling of her soft feminine form in his arms. Clarissa

Brighton had been warm and tempting; she had fit perfectly with her head tucked under his chin, her cheek silky and smooth against his neck, her breast pressed against his chest, full and wellrounded, and her body slender but not thin, tucked against his own. There was a fire in her, hot and burning, she was far from cold and empty, she was bright and lively, blunt with her words, and fearless, as proven by the way she had tilted her chin and looked haughtily down her nose at him as if he was a small boy needing a stern lecturecaring not that he was a giant compared to the little firebrand. She was the ideal woman in his eyes, and just the thought of her caused him to be physically uncomfortable, his breath increased, his body tightened. Darian stood, paced to the bed, then back to the fireplace, and decided he didnt have a choice, she had to be his. No one had ever made him feel as if he wanted to smile and scowl at the same time like she had today in Maddys garden. His mind was filled with her; his body was taut with need at just the thought of her. Darian didn't want to stop to think of the reasons why. He had only met her once; hed been in her presence for only a few minutes. Was it possible to know in such a short time that you've met the person you're fated to be with? Pacing back to the bed, he sat on its edge, but stood quickly when his mind started to imagine her there with him, naked and wantonly stretched out in its softness. His mind refused to release the image, dreaming of her creamy white skin glowing in the low light, long tapered limbs weighted with anticipation, sinking into the silken beddings. The mass of her dark hair spread across his pillow, floating, making his hands itch to run through it, to feel it caress his skin, and glide like a feather across his chest, over his stomach. Her lavender scent drifting through the room, as it filled every corner, making him light headed, the smell her skin lingering as it drifted there in his sheets, on his pillow, clinging to his own skin. Her slightly pointed chin held high, while she looked straight at him, direct and honest. Her violet-blue eyes shining with readiness as they followed his path across the room, watching him undress, caressing his flesh with just a lookheating his entire body, making him hard, and stealing his breath from his lungs. Her breasts, swollen and heavy, tipped with tight buds the color of ripe berries, upturned and waiting to be tasted, going to her, filling his hands with them, the generous globes, pale and

translucent under his large tan hands. Her back arching with pleasure as her molded her breast, squeezing gently, dragging a symphony of moans from her kiss swollen lips. Muscled thighs, long, silky, and taut would shake with each gliding caress, running his fingers through the dark cloud of curls that topped her thighs, soft and downy. His ministrations would encourage her to release a ragged cry, as she arched her neck, pressing her head into the downy pillow beneath her, glorying in the feel of his hands on her heated flesh. Her long, thin fingers would reach out to touch him, wanting to ease the pain of his arousal, spreading her hands across his chest, drawing them upward over his shoulders; she would pull him to her. Pulling him against her, his body pressing her into the soft plush mattress, sinking in, her thighs spread, opening to allow him closer, feeling the heat at her core pressed against his harden shaft. Gliding the tip of his erection to her warm, tight center, pushing slowly, deeply into her hot wetness, he felt her smooth center surround him. "Your Grace, it's time to dress for dinner." The announcement accompanied by a loud pounding on the door made him jump, banging his knee on the bed post in the process. His erotic imaginings flew away, his face instantly red with a school boy blush. Clearing his throat, he attempted to get air to pass through his tight chest. "I am capable of dressing myself, do not return to assist me unless I call for you, damn it!" He growled. T sound of boots racing down the hall gave all the proof he need to know that he had been understood. Limping uncomfortably to the basin set on a stand across the room, Darian splashed his face with water trying to cool his overheated flesh. Looking forward into the mirror, he watched the drops of water as they fell from his whiskered chin, dropping back into the basin. Amazed at himself, Darian shook his head, he'd not had such realistic fantasies since puberty, and even then they had never been so detailed. Upon hearing the pounding on the door, he had actually looked to the bed, expecting to see Clarissa lying there, and afraid that hed been caught. He stood, drying his face with a thick white towel, and decided he must have lost his mind. The pressure had finally made him break; he had met a woman once, spoke a total of two measly words to herthat was not sufficient cause to have him imagining making love to her, imagining touching her or imagining her touching him.

With an angry grunt he took a black jacket and his breeches from the wardrobe, turning, he thought to place them on the bed, but thought it not such a good idea, and instead, threw them onto the wing back chair near the fireplace. Shaking his head in disgust, he stopped in the center of the room, remembering he was to go to dinner at Maddy's tonight. She had asked him to join them in welcoming her guests, what the hell was he going to do now? He could always fall to Clarissa's feet, and beg for her handshe would probably think he was completely insane. Then all would be saved, she'd never marry anyone as demented as he obviously is, and he could forget all about her and any small chance he might have, and continue his search elsewhere. Before tonight, his most appealing prospect had been Elmira Brentwood, and that hadnt been saying much. She being a wealthy woman from the nearby town was the only reason he had considered her. Otherwise she was a cold and calculating woman in his opinionexactly kind the woman he had sought in London. The thought of marriage to someone of her kind now left a sour taste in his mouth; unfortunately, she paled even more when she was compared with Clarissa. Darian quickly and cleanly shaved, and combed his hair, trying to make himself presentable. Smoothing his hand over his chin, he was amazed he hadn't slit his own throat with the sharp blade of his straight razor; he was definitely not himself today. Maybe he just needed a break; he'd been so focused on making the estate profitable the last few years that he'd barely stopped to take a breath. Tonight was just what he needed, a night in the company of other people, conversation and good foodit had been such a long time since he had been carefree gentleman enjoying himself with friends and flirting with beautiful ladies. Who was he trying to kid, tonight was going to be a disaster, he thought with a frown. After roughly pulling on his clothes, he strode back to the wardrobe to grab a cravat, attempting to put his mind to the task of tying it, but failing miserably. His fingers fumbled and twisted in the stark white material, he pulled the bell, summoning Rodgers, the butler that he had moments ago bellowed at. Darian walked to the door, pulling it open, hearing footsteps in the hallway as Rodgers appeared with blond hair glowing in the sunlit hallway, dressed neatly and cleanly cut. The only thing that made him stand out was his height, easily an intimidating figure to beholdhe stood inches taller than even Darian's above average frame. Rodgers was often mistaken for being

stodgy, but in truth, was simply a man of few words, rarely speaking unless first spoken to, and even then using only as few words as necessary, taking a long time to be comfortable in most situations. Darian silently pointed to the limp cravat around his neck, dropping his hands to his sides as Rodgers scowled and stepped forward and tried to straighten the wrinkled cravat, pretending nothing had happened, the silence tearing at Darian's conscience. "Sorry, old man." Darian said quietly. Rodgers responded with silent nod, and continued fixing the cravat, tugging it a little too tight, making Darian wince when it pinched at his throat. Finished, Rodgers looked up at Darian, his green eyes glowing with a devilish smile, obviously enjoying his own little form of revenge, Darian smiled in return and allowed Rodgers his victory. The man had been his childhood friend, a wild boy who had taken him away from all that was set on a young heir's shoulders. Rodgers was about the same age as he himself was, but the difference in their status of birth had made their relationship change, making Rodgers a servant and Darian the Duke even though they had had the same governing while growing, and similar educationshis luck of being born to parents of lineage was the only thing that set them apart. Darian would not necessarily think himself to be all that lucky. Some days the weight of the responsibility and the fear of failing made it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. The life that had been given to him had truly tested the strength of his character along with his fortitude. "Has the carriage been pulled out front?" Darian asked. "Yes Your Grace, it's waiting for you now." "Thank you, Rodgers." He said quietly as he walked out the door, and down the stairs to the foyer to wait for Felicity, who he knew from experience, would be late. She was forever late, and Darian was sure that it was for no other reason than to test his patience. The girl was definitely going to be the death of him.

Chapter 4
The ride to Maddy's was uncomfortable to say the least, the feeling of dread swamped him, his stomach twisted and turned, tying his insides into a tangled knot that weighed heavily in his gut. He couldn't help imagining all of the different ways he could make a fool of himself; a continuous string of humiliating possibilities ran through his mind, each ending the samehim completely and utterly making a buffoon of himself. He definitely needed to keep his wandering thoughts under control tonight, it wouldn't be easy, but he had no other choice if he truly wished to capture Clarissas eye. It was strange to feel so strongly about someone so quickly, for his heart to be so sure, in no more than an instant. He had learned early that feelings were often hurt, and expectations were dangerous. He had spent many years learning how to protect himself, learning how to charm and enchant women, making them want him, making them chase him, simply by being distant and cool. He had learned quickly that women of the ton refused to be ignored, and often went out of their way to get the gentlemen who seemed the least interestedwomen rarely brought into their beds the smitten puppies who lolled at their heels. They wanted cocksure men who were strong and knew what they wanted; they needed to feel as if they had earned the prize of a powerful mateat least for the night. He was going to have to fall back on that rake-like training this fateful night, or he would risk letting her know his intentions prematurely. The only plan he could devise at such short notice was to court herbut first he had to ensure her interest. He needed to keep close, and stay in her thoughts, in her line of sight, on her mind, under her skin. The time to strike was after he had successfully piqued her interest, she would be ripe for the picking once she was attached to himemotionally and physically. There was definitely no immediate demand for her to know why he needed to marry; fortunately, there was passion between them, its power would cover any lack of emotion behind his offer. There would be time for the truth later; there would be time for love to growa lifetime together. Glancing at Felicity as he sat opposite him, her face in a deep frown, he wondered what it meant, what complicated thoughts were swirling in her innocent mind, she was undeniably a difficult girl to figure out. He should know since he'd been desperately attempting to do just that

for the last few years. Obviously he had not been the only one to learn how to protect his heart, and to use that ability to occlude others from your life. The idea gave him great hope that maybe she hadn't been as infected by their parents maligning behavior as he had once believed. Seeing her so unhappy made him hurt, a young girl of her age should be giggling with friends, dreaming of the future, imagining finding a husband and having a horde of children. Currently she had no friends that he knew of, no one came to visit her, and she never left Whitterly Hall to visit anyone. Felicity spent much of her time riding alone or blockaded quietly in her room, distant from everything and everyone. Darian hoped she could find a friend at Maddy's tonight. Clarissa's sister was of the same age, background, and most importantly, had also lost her parents. Maddy had suggested that they push the two young ladies together, hoping they could help each other to heal, bridging a gap that no one had yet been able to span. Their having so much in common gave hope, but he still worried that at this point that it may be impossible for anyone to reach Felicity? The carriage then slowed, and Felicity patiently waited for him to step down, reaching out for him to help her to the ground. Once on her feet she put her hand on his arm and allowed Darian to escort her into Thornbridge Hall. Felicity glanced sideways at Darian, noted his frown, and wondered what could have put it there. She didn't know this man anymore, her brother had, up to this point, eluded her. She rarely saw him anymore, and spoke to him even less. He spent hours in the fields only returning for a meal and a bed at night. They had little in common; each found it nearly impossible to understand the others thoughts or feelings and often remaining silent even when they were together. Felicity knew Darian had no friends here, and hoped that he could maybe find a little contentment with the woman he was talking to in the garden. She was angry for him having left her so long ago, but could never deny that she still wanted him to be happy, to enjoy life. Maybe if he married he would stay, then again, he might leave her at the Hall again, and take his new bride off to enjoy the life of London's society. The thought brought hot tears to her eyes, sniffing quietly, she sent away the tears; straightening her spine, she pushed away her thoughts as they were led into the parlor. "His Grace, the Duke of Whitterly, and Miss Felicity Wellbrook." They were announced by the stiff butler as they entered, Darian's eyes quickly scanned the room for any sight of Clarissa, eventually finding her standing in the corner of the room, and, unfortunately, all his well laid

plans left himmind and body, he was unprepared and anxious. Inhaling deeply, he tried to gather his wits about himself, and recalibrate the plan that was supposed to help him through the evening. Obviously, the local gentlemen of their little community found her to be a very interesting addition, they were hanging on her every word, each trying to get as close as propriety would allow. At hearing his name she quickly glanced toward the door, allowing him a glimpse of her awareness of him as it glistened in her skittish eyes. With great surprise, he realized that she had been waiting for his arrival. Her eyes returned to the gentlemen who were doting on her, acting as if she was completely unaware of his presence. He needed to be different to set himself out from the crowd; he needed to refrain from being a lolling puppy. Confident in his skills, he watched her for a moment. Seeing her this evening made his stomach twist in anxiety, he had never before doubted his skills as a lover or his ability to court a woman successfullynot until tonight. What had happened to his life? The simplicity of his new life was escaping him, leaving him unsure and unconfident. Darian discreetly watched Clarissa from across the room, slyly keeping tabs on her while attempting to get closer. She was breathtakingly dressed in a golden gown trimmed with cream silk, fitted closely at the bosom, dipping in at her small waist, and gently skimming out at her hips. Her small and feminine feet were encased in golden slippers, but she wore no jewels, leaving nothing to distract the eye from her beauty. She was dressed simply in comparison to the other ladies in the room, but she alone stood out to him. The sight of her brought back his earlier day dreams, coughing quietly to cover his discomfort while he strolled farther into the room. Getting closer still, he gained confidence with every stepa hunter gaining ground on his prey. Still having Felicity on his arm, he walked toward where Maddy was sitting on the settee, Felicity eyed the young girl at Maddy's side, whom realized must be Lillian Brighton. She was a beautiful girl, she would no doubt have the ton eating from her palm in a few years, her looks were similar to Clarissa, but were more girlish in style. This evening Clarissa looked so much a mature woman, belying the inexperience he had felt in her when she had been in his arms this afternoon.

As Darian had expected, the girls had much in common. They were both small girls of sixteen with large blue eyes, and much to his dismay, both seemed to look at him with a strange trepidation in their eyes. Each set a look of distrust upon him, almost as if they expected him to attack at any moment. Their gaze made him feel like a monster, making him wishing he could flee from the pair of unnerving girls. Maddy saved him by introducing Felicity to Lillian; they looked at each other openly, sizing up one another. They must have measured up well because after a few minutes of awkward silence and a little encouragement from Maddy, they smiled and wandered off together, heads close and talking quietly. The confusion must have shown on Darian's face because Maddy smiled, took his arm, and steered him toward the group in the cornerleading him exactly where he wished to be. "You will never understand girls of that age so stop banging your head against a wall trying." Maddy quietly stated for only Darian's hearing. "They're both hurting inside, they need each other, and I believe this will be a good thing, a very good thing." Maddy, in many ways had taken over the place of his own mother; more a mother than his own cared to beeven while still alive his mother had never cared enough to be jealous of their relationship. Maddy was his rock when things got tough, she was always there when he was worried and needed to talk, or to vent his anger. Now was no different, having her on his arm brought back a little of his confidence, and put a little swagger in his step. Maddy led him straight to Clarissa, cutting off the other gentlemen that were nearby, each vying for her attentions. Maddy was as powerful a woman here in the country as she was in London, the men split, opening a path directly to Clarissas side. Darian had to paste a smile on his face for the first time in his life; he'd always had a confidence and charm when speaking with women, but for some unknown reason all of that flew out the window when Clarissa was near. He felt like an untried boy again, tongue tied and praying for something, anything to come to mind that didnt make him sound like a fool. "Darian Wellbrook, Duke of Whitterly, this is my niece, Miss Clarissa Brighton." Maddy introduced them. Taking her hand, Darian bowed elegantly over it, Clarissa eyeing him warily. "We had an informal meeting in the garden this afternoon. He informed Maddy with a steady smile plastered on his face, his odd look causing Maddy to look at him curiously. Its a pleasure to

see you again Miss Brighton." He said, refusing to look at Maddy again, afraid she would perhaps comment on his odd behavior as she was like to do at most other times. Clarissa had been dreading this moment all day. This afternoon in the garden had brought out many strange thoughts and feelings, and, unfortunately, she had let her guard down and allowed him to charm and anger her all at the same time. She had rarely interacted with men in the past, she wasn't sure what to say or do, especially with this man. The only thing she was sure of was that he was definitely not the man she was searching for. She knew without a doubt that he was a man that she should avoid. He was too arrogant and too charming, but knowing he was wrong for her didn't stop the heat that quickly suffused her body when he had grown near. When he had entered the room tonight every lady had instinctively sighed and each of the gentlemen had unconsciously cringed, attesting to the fact that he had bountiful skill when it came to women. That was the last thing Clarissa needed in a marriage, she didnt need a man who wasn't capable of being faithful. A marriage of convenience didn't have to be between two people who had no emotional connection, no growing feelings, and no affection. Pulling her hand from his grasp she quickly tucked it behind her back. "Your Grace, its a pleasure to see you again." She responded politely, but purposefully put enough indifference in her voice to sound bored, knowing that discouraging this man was extremely important. Clarissa got the strange feeling that he was a determined man who could be very persuasive when he wanted to be, hopefully he wouldnt view her coldness as a challenge. She needed her plan to work, she had no other options at the moment, she was positive she would need to use any and all the tricks she had in her bag. Maddy was smiling, looking back and forth between Darian and Clarissa; obviously she was going to have a talk with Maddy very soon. She, as her guardian, was aware of the unfortunate and complicated situation Clarissa was in, but she needed to understand what expectations Clarissa had of a husband before she tried her hand at matchmaking. The true difficulty in the explanation lay in that she wasn't even positive she herself knew what she wanted. Clarissa hoped Maddy wouldn't push this match, she didn't know if she would be able to be polite for much longer, it seemed like her temper had gotten somewhat out of her control in the month past. "Darian, would you escort Clarissa to dinner please?" Maddy requested, turning and leaving before either could refuse. Offering his arm, Darian looked at Clarissa, openly daring her to

refuse, smiling at her when she glared at him, but still placed her fingers on the sleeve of his coat, denying him acknowledgement of the fire that ignited in her finger tips at the simple contact. "Clarissa, are you enjoying your stay thus far?" Darian asked politely, hoping his voice sounded steady, placing his hand protectively over hers feeling her fingers jerk at the added contact. "Yes thank you, but I do not remember offering you the use of my name, Your Grace." Her voice was haughty, just the way he liked it. She was glancing sideways at him and trying to look unaffected by their closenessDarian knew different. Her breath had hitched at the simple contact of her hand on his forearm; it had taken all the control she had to resist the temptation of pulling her small hand out from under his larger one. Darian realized it may yet be advantageous to him if he encouraged her thinking that he was a devious gentleman about town. Perhaps it would keep him from making a fool of himself, there was time for that later. He was chomping at the bit to get her alone, his body insisting that he test her facade. He wanted to prove to her exactly how much she was affected by his mere presence, just as much as he was by hers. "No, I guess you didn't, Clarissa, but please call me Darian. We are sure to be great friends." He stated neutrally, attempting to sound indifferent. She snapped her teeth together in ire, this man was vexing, she just had to get through tonight, and then she could make it clear to Maddy that she was absolutely not interested in the boorish Duke of Whitterly. She still had yet to speak to Maddy about going to back to London; she would plead on hands and knees if necessary. Walking with him down the corridor toward the formal dining room, Clarissa glanced sideways at Darian, noting how stunning he looked in his black evening wear. She couldn't deny that he was a perfect specimen of man, so large that he towered over her; he could probably pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, carting her away without exerting himself in the least. The thought of his hands on her caused her to grow warm, her face turning a slight shade of pink. She just hoped that he thought it was a reaction to his crude behavior. Sitting gracefully in the chair he had politely pulled out for her, she looked up at him, his hair so dark it was almost black, glistened in the low light, and made him look like a god described in a fanciful book she had read last summer. Those books had made her dream of one

day meeting such a man; too bad it had not prepared her for how to handle him when they did meet. If she had been more experienced, she would have smiled coolly at his flirting, and put him firmly but gently in his place. It seemed her parents had failed to encourage the knowledge that would be the most helpful at this time and place in her lifea place where they had knowingly put her. Looking around she noted she was surrounded by females except for Darian, Maddy was being too obvious. Darian spread his attentions among the giggling females encircling him, smiling and leading them through dinner with meaningless conversation, acting the part, polished and gentlemanly. He was polite and showed honest interest in everyone near to him, all the while, dismissing her presence as if she was not there seated quietly in the chair next to him. Most of the other ladies also ignored her, following Darian's lead, likely figuring she was one less woman to compete in their game of catch-a-duke, as if a duke such as him could be caught. Miss Elmira Brentwood was seated on his other side; she was of average height with dark hair pulled tightly into an elegantly twisted mass. Her overly thin frame was draped in a silk gown that left little to the imagination. She showed herself to be the most aggressive in her pursuit of Darian, obviously feeling threatened by her, as her eyes had been throwing daggers in Clarissas direction most of the meal. Elmira had been escorted by her brother, Arnold Brentwood, Earl of Ludington, a medium built gentleman, dark hair matching his sister's, but nowhere near to being as impressive a man when compared to Darianin character or in looks. The Earl and his sister didn't seem to be a close, they avoided each other at all costs, each ignoring the others presenceunfortunately the Earl had not graced Clarissa with such a similar ignorance. His attentions had possibly destroyed any chance she had of conversing with any other gentlemen; he had been continually at her side in the drawing room, informing her of his great wealth and power in London, which Clarissa thought to be a vain attempt at impressing her. Miss Brentwood continued her useless show of superiority; Clarissa finally saw a familial resemblance between the siblings. Elmira refused to allow her any peace at dinner, insisting on running her long fingernails over Darian's forearm, and laughing huskily at his every jest, her intimate attitude scraped at Clarissa's every nerve. To Elmira's credit, Darian didn't mind her attentions, or so his response would seem to say, he had simply raised a dark brow at her

forwardness, and continued his conversations. Elmiras eyes had glowered openly at Clarissa when Darian wasnt looking, unsure of what she had done to disturb the woman so much, she turned away from the pair, concentrating on her meal. She had not shown even the slightest iota of interest in Darian, in actuality, it was quite the opposite; she had continually attempted to avoid the cocksure arse at all costs. So why was the woman so threatened? Was there something that could not be seen by her and Darian, but was obvious to an outsider like Elmira? She had taken great pains to ensure her attraction to Darian didn't show, Clarissa had become very good at hiding her emotions over the yearsthere was no way anyone could see past the facade she had erected unless she wanted them to. Clarissa felt strangely lost, rejected; she had planned to discourage his attentions toward her, but now seemed cold without it. Seeing him with the others about made her feel left out, showed her what she was missing by ignoring his charms. She wanted him to make her laugh, to make her forget how her life had become a whirl of chaos, spinning her around and aroundhe seemed to be the only one capable of such a chore. She missed her parents, especially her mother at this moment, she needed advice, and she was unexpectedly becoming a mass of contradictions these days. She definitely needed a strong woman to give her courage and help guide her down this path she had been forced onto. Being enclosed in the crush of a dinner party made her miss her parents even more. They would have loved being in the middle of this grand crowd, they would have gloried at being the center of everyone's attention. Her parents would have charmed even the most stoic of guests, making everyone laugh at silly tales or descriptions of strange characters they had met at different routes over the years. She needed her mother now more than she had at any other time in her life; a tear flitted down her cheek before she could blink it away. Luckily no one had noticedor so she had thought. Darian was watching Clarissa in his peripheral vision, his intentions had been to make her angry, distancing himself from her, protecting himself but still putting her at ease thinking he had no intentions of pursuing her, to make her want him. He had always been good at flirting and keeping up simple conversation, seeing the single tear fall, sliding down her soft cheek, he felt cruel. Maddy had told him she had lost her parents just weeks ago and was still fragile, he had dismissed the warning without thought, not believing

there was anything weak or delicate about Clarissa. He hadn't seen through her facade, she was obviously a master at protecting herself, as he himself was. Maybe he was indeed the monster his sister tended to think he was. Clarissa had just irrevocably proven to him that he knew much less about woman than he had once thought. Turning in his chair, Darian gave his full attention to her, leaning closer he tried to extract a smile from her. "Take care, there are wolves about that will most definitely attack if they sense vulnerability, Clarissa." She felt embarrassed that he had seen the slip of her emotional mask, one that she usually held so strongly. "No one saw my momentary weakness but you Darian, and a gentleman would never throw a lady to the wolves." Clarissa whispered with a smile playing at her lips, she hoped he had not noticed her use of his proper namethe quirk of his eyebrow told her he had. "I like the way you say my name, Clarissa." He spoke quietly. "You should always use it when addressing me, besides formality should never exist between friends." "It was an innocent slip of the tongue, Your Grace, and I don't believe we could be friends with such a short acquaintance between us." "I do believe your flirting with me my dear, perhaps you wish to be more than just simply my friend." He said with a devilish wink. Clarissa's comment was cut off by Maddy standing and requesting the ladies to follow her to the music room where the men would join them after their cheroot and port. The men stood to await their leave, Darian held Clarissa's chair as she stood. "To be continued, Your Grace." She replied looking over her shoulder directly into his eyes, she left the room joining, the end of the parade of women, her hips swaying provocatively as she went. What on earth was she doing? It was imprudent to provoke him in such a manner, she had undeniably been flirting, and it had felt good. She had enjoyed their bantering; he seemed to enjoy it as well. Darian watched her until she was out of sight. The woman was perfect, and he had to have her for his own. Retaking his seat he accepted his refilled glass, swallowing the dark and potent liquid in a single gulp, listening to the men around him who were now deeply imbedded in a conversation of horseflesh. He bided his time, mulling over his plan.

He was glad that the men hadn't dawdled and were soon off to the music room in short order, Darian went straight through the center of the room, directly and pointedly to Clarissa's side. "Would you care for a stroll on the terrace Miss Brighton?" He queried without a thought, his mind preoccupied with getting her alone to continue their provocative conversation. The others around her were a little shocked by his forwardness, but refrained from admonishing him, except a few brave souls who offered a silently raised eyebrow at his presumptuous behavior. The Brentwoods, both among the group, giving the most open disapproval for his behavior with matching glares. To his benefit, rank more often than not, trumped manners in any circle, especially the ton. "The fresh air would indeed be wonderful, Your Grace." She responded quickly, forgetting the others around her as she put her fingers to his sleeve, again astounded at the heat she felt. Turning her, he led her through the open doors and out onto the slate terrace which opened into the garden. The patio had been lit especially for this evening to encourage guests to enjoy the night air. Walking silently next to him, Clarissa delighted in the peacefulness of the night, she felt oddly at ease with Darian at this moment, unsure if it was such a good thing to let her guard down, but grateful for the time however short it was. "Clarissa, would you mind a walk through the gardens, we'll stay to the path to protect you slippers?" Darian assured her, removing her only acceptable rejection. Her assent was immediate and completely unwise. "Indeed, lead the way, Your Grace." The paths led in and around flower beds and trees, throwing shadows under their feet, the moon high and bright, lighting their way with the help of torches which had been placed here and there along the paths. "What happened to the angry woman I met here this morning?" Darian asked. "What happened to the unmannered oaf I met here this morning?" She replied flippantly. "I guess he fled in fright when he saw what a temperamental hoyden you could be." Clarissa stopped walking and turned to face Darian. "That is unfair considering you almost knocked me to the ground. Do you realize how large you are? You could have killed me!" "I caught you, didn't I?" He replied, humor dripping from his words.

Realizing he was again bating her, Clarissa huffed and continued walking, "Why do you insist on goading me into a show of temper?" "You're beautiful when you're angry." He stated simply, grabbing her hand, he pulled her into a shadowed area surrounded by lilacs, turning her as he pulled her close to him, but still he refrained from making a move toward her lips. Darian watched her, waited for her to refuse him, lowering his mouth slowly to hers, he brushed his lips once, twice, waiting for her to push him away, when she didn't he pulled her closer. He inhaled her scent, sweet lavender intermixing with the rich fragrance of the deep purple, many-faceted blooms of the lilac behind her. The scents drifted about them, enclosing them in the moment. He was entrapped in her grip, the moment refused to release his good sense, the ones that told him to take it slowat this rate he was sure to terrify the innocent woman. Clarissa sighed, not recognizing the sound as her own. She spread her fingers, her hands moving of their own accord to draw over his shoulders. His lips were warm and soft against hers; he didn't press, but held still and allowed her to take the kiss where she wanted it to go. Thankfully she wanted it to go further, tilting her head slightly, she parted her lips. Darian needed no further encouragement. Deepening the kiss, his tongue caressed the inside of her lips, tasting her innocence, not wanting to scare her, he again reminded himself to go slowly. He held her as close as they could get while fully dressed, his body tightened, his arms pressed her to him. Remembering his imaginings from earlier in the day, his body hardened quickly, causing him to gasp with the strength of his own arousal. He needed to reclaim his sanity, but her soft mewing sounds and roaming hands were making it impossible. He had never before been carried away with such a hunger, taking him so strongly and completely. Clarissa spread her fingers through his hair making his scalp tingle, her nails gently scraping, dragging, sending shivers racing down his spine. He felt her warmth seep through the layers of clothing, he was simply amazed that they hadn't ignited the dry leaves that lay scattered under their feet. Taking her breath from him, she tasted the port and the sweet pasty she had watched him devour at dinner. Feeling light headed, she clung to him, enjoying the feel of his body hard against her soft frame. She tried to bring her mind out of the fuzz that seemed to blanket her thoughts, dragging her back into the deep, taking himself with her, devouring her like a pasty.

She was unsure of where to go from here, and let him lead her, the dark surrounded them, her ears deaf to all else, she could hear nothing but the sound of their mingled breath. Her senses locked in the moment; she could smell the purple clusters of blooms, sweet and enveloping, crushed behind her as he gently backed her into the soft cushion of lilacs. He slid his hands around her waist, holding her to him with one hand while the other slid to mold the soft mound of her bottom, pulling her even more tightly to him. Crushing her breasts to his chest, so close he could feel their burgeoning buds, her soft moan in turn encouraged a low moan from him. Bringing his hand up from her waist he cupped her tight breast, molding it to his palm, wishing he could feel her soft skin unfettered by clothing, silky and smooth heated by his touch. Darian had to end this before it went any further, his body was already clamoring for hers, pulling back slowly, he looked at her face, upturned, with eyes remaining tightly closed, she held her breath, trying to slow her galloping heart. Clarissa opened her eyes, looking directly at him, her innocence making her blush; she cast her eyes downward only to encounter his hard chest. She settled her forehead there against his chest waiting for him to say something, anything to break the awkwardness of the moment, trying to catch her breathafraid he would comment on her lack of experience. Darian held her for a moment not wanting to part, knowing they needed to put some space between them, he wanted to kiss her tender lips again, the taste of her was something he was having trouble denying himself. Stepping back, he took her hands, holding them between their distanced bodies, intertwining their fingers, squeezing gently, he tried to get her to look at him again, needing to see that he hadn't made a huge blunder with her. Clarissa slowly raised her eyes to meet his once again. "Will you go for a picnic with me tomorrow?" He was horrified to see the sudden gut wrenching pain that tightened her muscles and twisted her perfect features, flinching at his words as if she had been physically struck. "I cannot, not ever!" Clarissa ripped her hands free of his, turned and ran, not looking back as she went to the side of the house, avoiding the music room, running up the stone stairs curving around the side wall, which led to the balcony outside her room. Tears were streaming down her face uncontrollably, blurring her vision; she opened her door, shut it behind her, and flung

herself to her bed. Weeping for hours, she eventually fell asleep, fully clothed, exhausted and confused.

Darian had walked back to the music room, slipped unseen into the crowded room, and quickly joined a group near the door. Feeling Maddy's gaze at his back, he excused himself, and turned and walked to her. He expected her to interrogate him about Clarissa's strange disappearance but she didn't. "Is Clarissa all right then?" She asked. "Yes, she went up the side stairway, she was feeling unwell." He answered. Maddy nodded and turned back to the elderly lady she had been chatting with. Darian found Felicity, and together they slipped out of the room, leaving him still trying to understand what had just happened, to understand why Clarissa had taken off like she had. Out front in the court yard, he waited for their carriage to be brought around, spinning the few moments in the garden over and over in his mind. Felicity noticed his pensiveness but kept quiet, climbing into the carriage with no arguments, leaving Darian alone with his thoughts.

Chapter 5
Clarissa woke still feeling tired and drained; she had slept dreamlesslya cold emptiness had settled deeply in her bones overnight. Feeling weak and sluggish, her brain fought to become aware of her surroundings, looking around the unfamiliar room while her memory came back to her. Holding her hand to her pounding head, she sat up and wished she could forget all that had happenedlast nights garden stroll being at top of the list of things she wanted to wipe from her memory. It had all started out as a pleasant walk with a charming gentleman but then somehow turned into a twisted nightmare. She had no choice, she would have to explain her reaction, and she had to make him understand her strange behavior. Hed meant no harm; he had no idea why she had reacted so vehemently to his attempt at easing the awkward moment. He had only made the invitation to keep her embarrassment of her innocence from pulling her away from him. He must think her mad, what sane woman would run crying and terrified from something as innocuous as a little picnic. It would normally be nothing more than a sweet gesture of a gentleman courting a lady; she had made it sound as if it was a torturous event. She had to speak with him, to set his mind at ease, perhaps she was indeed mad, why else would she have enjoyed their passionate embrace, participating in their heated kiss. She had never been tempted before. Of course, she had never had a tempting offer either. She didnt know how to react or how to respond, she had let him lead her and had easily followed his example, instinct taking her where it may. Getting out of bed, she decided she had no choice, she owed Darian an explanation. She would have to go to him and hope he understood, although, letting him think she was demented just may keep him from pursuing her. Shaking her head, she denied the ideas merit, she had to be honest with him, but how could she face him, she had acted such a fool. She could run away to town, save herself the humiliation of facing him again. London could easily be the solution to her many problems. She did have an excuseshe needed to find a husband. Shaking her head, she berated herself for being such a coward, she had never run away from anything before now, and she was not about to start.

Pulling a deep green walking gown from the wardrobe, she dressed quickly and washed her face, scrubbing away the tears and reviving her pale skin. Looking in the mirror, she saw her face, puffy and red, her eyes swollen, unable to completely remove the signs of her distressed night. She gave up and headed down to the family dining room to breakfast.

Maddy was sitting at the end of the table, quietly nibbling at a piece of toast, setting it down to sip at her tea, she looked up at Clarissa as she entered the room. Clarissa settled demurely in a seat near Maddy, thanking the footman that set a plate of toast and sausage in front of her as she filled her tea cup. She could feel Maddys concerned gaze upon her, looking her over. She openly questioned her with just a glance. Trying to avoid the discussion, Clarissa picked a topic that had been on her mind since yesterday and now seemed more important than before. Maddy, you have been informed of my fathers will, correct? Yes, my dear, I have, Mr. Grumbley sent me a missive explaining your situation, and requesting my help on your behalf. I do, after all, have a personal experience of a similar nature. Maddy plainly stated, not willing to deny Clarissa the truth, yet not fully divulging all. I was thinking upon the matter, and realized the isolated social setting here at the Hall may not be conducive to me finding a proper husband of standing. Im not sure I agree, but please continue your thought. Im open to any ideas if they are reasonable. Maddy nodded sweetly, giving Clarissa hope with her words, quietly setting her tea cup down on its matching saucer, giving her full attention to the discussion. I was thinking perhaps we should return to London for the season. She nervously continued, picking at her toast, eyes downcast. There would be more opportunities for such a match to be made with more probable success. Praying her suggestion would be easily accepted by Maddy; she picked up her tea and sipped while giving her an expectant look over the brim. Maddy was quiet for some time, and then with a patient voice and caring eyes she denied Clarissa her escape. Im sorry my dear, I have not been to London in a few years, but my memory of the season should still be accurate. You would, no doubt, be inundated by gentlemen and money hungry bounders alike.

Maddy picked up her own tea cup, allowing herself time to put her words together in a way that would forevermore still any arguments. I have planned a multitude of get-togethers here at Thornbridge Hall, and have accepted invitations at neighboring estates to allow you ample selection for a husband. This will allow you the advantage of my knowledge of prospective suitors. Maddy smiled at her, with the knowledge of having irrefutably destroyed all of Clarissas arguments. There was no malice behind Maddys words, which made Clarissa withdrawal any ideas of further pursuing her wish to return to London. She could not in good conscience continue to push the matter, but maybe she could still yet gain an infinitesimal concession from Maddy. I will agree to your arrangement, but would you consider that if I cannot find a suitable gentleman in six months time, you will then accompany me and travel to London? Maddy took a moment to ponder the request, but then nodded her assent. I can agree with that, I appreciate your civility on the subject my dear. Maddy nodded and stood; walking toward the door, she stopped and turned back to Clarissa. Im here for you should you need anything, you are my family, we have no one else. I understand your heart is broken, but I would like for us to be friends, I would in no way presume to take your dear mothers place in your heart, but Im willing to be a shoulder if needed. Not waiting for a reply she turned and left the room, leaving Clarissa alone with her breakfast. Unfortunately, she had little appetite, and was standing to take a walk when Lily entered the dining room. Clarry, are you all right, is your head feeling better? Lily continued on talking as bubbly as she had been in the past. "Darian said you had a headache last night, and went to your room to rest. Yes, I did feel unwell last night, and yes, I do feel better now that Ive rested. She smiled brightly at Lily, trying to convince her it was the truth. Im going for a walk, the fresh air should do me good, enjoy your breakfast Lily. She walked quickly out of the room, and down the hall toward the rear door, which opened directly into the garden, deciding to walk toward the little bridge in hopes of catching sight of Dariannow was as good a time as any to explain herself, figuring it was better to get it over with quickly.

Darian was sitting on the bank of the stream that separated Whitterly Hall from Thornbridge Hall, staring into the blue gurgling water as he ran the previous night through his mind repeatedly. He had left his house this morning, intending to call on Maddy, hoping to see Clarissa, but instead had stopped here at the stream, afraid of the expected rejection he felt was surly due to him after his appalling behavior last night. He had slept fitfully, had tossed and turned; trying to ascertain what had happened, he asked himself the same questions over and over againnot liking the answers that she would undoubtedly give him. The questions had rung loudly in his mind. Had he gone too fast and frightened her? Was it possible she had been repulsed by his actions? Had she not enjoyed his kisses? Could he have been wrong about her feelings? None of the answers that came quickly to mind had settled his anxiety, only gave way to other thoughts, other dreams. He had tossed and turned, troubled by fantasies of crossing the acres between them, scaling the wall, slipping through her window, and getting the answers he needed by any means necessary. His nightly tortures had left him just as troubled if not more this morning. Throwing pebbles into the water, he now sat hunched over and dejected, unable to find the nerve to walk the rest of the way to Thornbridge Hall to receive his fated answers. He watched the small stones as they skipped across the water, hoping, bouncing on the surface until they reached the other side, plopping with a splash under the surface, sinking to the bottom of the streamwishing he could sink with them. It was quiet all around him; the sun had warmed the grass, drying the morning dew. It was a beautiful start to what was going to be a horrible day, in his opinion. His feelings called for a different kind of day altogethera stormy gray day, with wind blustering and blowing hard, making everyone want to hide inside near the warmth of a blazing fire. His mind deep in his thought, he had no idea that he was no longer alone in his cowardice solitude until the sweet scent of lavender clutched at his senses. He saw her as he looked up and across the stream, the vision of his dreams, appearing to him as if his troubled heart had beckoned to her and brought her before him. She was simply standing there, prettily dressed in a muslin sprigged gown, a frown creasing her brow, violet eyes following his boyish play as the last pebble he threw bounced over the water and skidded up the opposite bank to land only inches from the toe of her kid boot.

Hurriedly he stood, wanting to apologize for everything, to beg for her forgiveness. Turning to go to her, he stumbled over a large rock protruding from the soft earth, and then he was falling, arms thrashing wildly in the air. Unable to catch himself, Darian fell headlong into the stream, splashing wildly as the cool water of early summer made him gasp with shock. Standing quickly he pulled himself up; sputtered to clear his mouth of the water he had inhaled, and wiped the droplets from his face, he looked up to see Clarissa. She was drenched by the splashed water his body had displaced during his clumsy plunge, then dowsed yet again by his thrashing as he had tried to pull himself up to his feet. Her hair was dripping, the heavy wetness had pulled it from its bearings, dragging the long inky locks to lay heavily down her back and past her hips; her once crisp dress was darkened with the dampness, she pulled her hands across her face, and cleared the water from her eyes. Standing in the stream, water swirled around his thighs as he looked skyward, closed his eyes, raising his arms in entreaty he pleaded, Please Lord, strike this foolish man now and put me out of my misery. He bellowed to the clouds dancing in the blue sky above. Ready once again to beg her for forgiveness he looked toward her only to see her brilliant smile, unsure of what he should do, he stood swaying in the steadily moving stream, and watched the laughter build in her until it burst forth, the joyous sweet sound brought a smile to his own face. He stood stunned, smiling like a fool, rooted to the spot, and unable to speak while he listened to the musical sound of her merriment, amazed at the change in her features, She looked young and happy, making him see how truly sad she had been until this very moment. Catching her breath, she dropped to the fragrant grass, flopping unceremoniously near the waters edge. I dont believe I see a storm cloud in sight, He must not have heard your request. Her words bubbled at him as her laughter started to recede. You should come out of that cold water before you catch your death. Realizing the irony of her statement she was once again overtaken by a fit of laughter. He walked toward her, kicking through the water, splashing more as he went, he watched as she wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes, and attempted in vain to subdue the cachinnation was again stealing her breath. He came to sit beside her, a loud squishing sound coming from his boots with every step; he plopped onto his wet bottom next to her. Frowning down at his boots,

he pulled off his black Hessians and dumped the water from them, returning it once again to his foot, sending her into laughter for a third time. Falling back she closed her eyes, lying in the grass as she looked skyward, still unable to remove the bright smile from her too full mouth even after reining herself in. Finally feeling in control of herself, she let her eyes fall upon Darians back, wide and strong, remembering the feel of his muscled arms around her. Darian lay down next to her, feeling awkward, unable to find words, not wanting to break the happy mood that had permeated her too serious sensibilities. I apologize, I shouldnt have been laughing. Placing her hand on his forearm, she turned her head to look at him, trying to look contrite but failing miserably in his opinion. She was a dazzling figure when dry and perturbed, but she was a devastating sight when wet and laughing. The soft touch of her hand, slim fingers wrapping around his forearm and heating his sensitive flesh, was his undoing. Turning, he put his large hands around her waist, and lifted her, draping her over his chest; her legs tangled with his, her arms went to his shoulders for support, her heavy hair completely free of it confining pins drifted around them, enclosing them in a cocoon. Bringing his hands to her face, he caressed her soft glowing cheeks, pulling her head down, he wordlessly begged for a taste of her bright smile. Trying to be gentle, he lifted his head, looking into her eyes; he brushed his cool lips against hers. He was encouraged when she relaxed her arms, and allowed her body to melt against his, bringing her mouth closer to his, he returned to the gentle kiss. Pressing his lips to her mouth, he slid his tongue along her full bottom lip, and tasted the low moan that escaped her throat. Her eyes closed, she pressed closer, taking them further, deeper, pulling him with her into the mating of their mouths. She tilted her head slightly, parting her lips; she granted him the access to her mouth that he was incapable of refusing. Pushing his hands up her back to her shoulders, he molded her frame to his own, feeling the shiver run down her spine, his fingertips followed its path downward, her nicely rounded bottom filling his hands, he cupped gently. He took all that she offered, refusing to let his wayward body take control of him, restraining the need to lose himself in her fully. Holding her loosely he traced the path back up her spine, and then again retraced his movements, his hand returned to caress her sweetly rounded bottom. He felt her hips undulate against him, pulling the breath from his lungs, ripping

loose a low guttural moan, he held her tighter. He was losing control quickly, his mind flittered away on the breeze, moving his hands to her hair, he wound the dark silky strands around his fingers, gently pulling her away from himself, breaking the kiss, curbing her assault on his senses. We need to stop, if we dont, I cant guarantee youll leave here with your innocence intact. His voice was gravelly with passion, which brought Clarissa surfacing back from the sensual world she had sunk into. Smiling into his eyes, her lips pouting, she teased him. I thought you were experienced at this, dont you have any gentlemanly self-control? She was surprised at her own wanton question, burying her face in his damp jacket front as she attempted to conceal her embarrassment. He barked a laugh, and rolled, taking her under him, pressing her into the soft earth, his heavy body covered her, his hips, resting in the cradle of her thighs, allowing her to feel his erection pressing against her feminine warmth. The dampness of his clothing soaked into her dress, against her skin, amazing her that a cloud of steam wasn't rising from their burning skin. My experience and self-control, as you put it, has limits, and you sorely push me to them woman, have mercy! Kissing her quick and hard, he stilled her teasing lips as she was about to make a smart retort. Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes, moments ticked by, neither said a word, eye to eye, body to body, breath mingling, they were frozen in the moment. Each was trying to gauge the others thoughts, looking into their depth, wondering where to go nexthe broke the silence, unable to staunch the flow of his thoughts from returning to their previous predicament. We need to talk, you have me so confused, I havent been sure which way is up since I met you." He paused closing his eyes, squeezing them tight, unable to look into her face as he made a complete and udder fool of himself. "Ive never been good at explaining what Im thinking or feeling, but I want to try with you, only for you. I give my oath that I never meant to push you, to scare you. Clarry I am so dreadfully sorry! She watched him, her eyes scanned his face; he looked pained as he waited for her to react to his heartfelt declaration. She had thought he was an arrogant selfish man, now she saw the truth; he was simply a man trying to get through life, carrying just as much weight on his shoulders as she herself was.

What was odd was that she could see her own pain reflected back at her, making her wondered at what had caused the hurt she saw in him. What had damaged his heart? What had crossed his path and turned his life upside down; changing the man he was to the man he is here and now, opening his protected heart for her? Quiet tears slipped down her cheeks, emotion overwhelming her; unable to hold back the effect of his pain on her own bruised and battered heart. He kept his eyes closed tight, his body completely still, waiting, praying he hadn't muddled everything, his whole being intently aware. Everything that was in him searched for even the slightest change in her breathing, in her small frame, any sign that she understood him, believed him. She made not one single noise of reaction, her breath was even and steady, her body soft under his own large frame, their legs still intertwined, her hands gently rested on his upper arms, his hands tangled in her hair, smooth and cool tresses against his skin. He was definitely a fool, she must be shocked at his forwardness; he had stupidly destroyed any hope of convincing her to marry him. He felt little droplets of heated dampness falling and sliding across the back of his hands, sliding down his fingers to the ground below them. Opening his eyes he gazed into hers, pools of violet, deep and true stared back at him, tears shed quietly, rolling down her soft cheeks, her sweet face upturned to meet his. He watched her, sadness danced in her eyes, breaking his heart, shattering him into a million pieces. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke. "I can't, I wont go on a picnic; not with you, not with anyone." Unsure of what a picnic had to do with the here and now he watched her, waited for her to continue, confusion showing clearly on his expressive face, void of any barrier he would normally have erected. "My parents carriage tipped and killed them both instantly; they were on their way to picnic at the park." Understanding suddenly dawned on him thenshe was explaining her reaction last night. Darian kissed her softly, clinging for a moment to the simple touch of lips, he tried to take away the pain and fear she was holding onto, tightly clutched to her tender heart. He smoothed the pads of his thumbs across her cheek bones, drying the wet of her tears; lifting his head, he looked into her eyes, and tried to assure her that he understood.

"That's why you ran from me." His words were a simple statement not a question. She nodded, her head bobbed with her assent, she pushed gently at his chest trying to dislodge his body from hers, needing room to breathe, but not wanting to separate the bond that had somehow formed between them. He moved easily, gracefully, sitting next to her, and pulling her across his hard thighs, into his lap, he cradled her against his chest, her head nestled against his shoulder, wrapping his arms loosely around her small waist, unwilling to lose the warmth of her closeness, but yielding easily to her unvoiced request. Pressing her cheek into his collar, she felt the wetness of his coat, and let out a tiny giggle as she remembered his dunking in the stream, a smile flitting to her lips. "You must be chilled." "Actually I'm quite heated at the moment." A rumble of laughter followed his words. "How do you plan to explain the dampness of you clothing to Maddy? I, at least, have no one to answer to. "His eyes unabashedly traced a path down her body, stopping at her breasts, tight and puckered against the thin, sprigged muslin of her dress. Holding her cool palms to her heated face, she shook her head at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Simple, I'll tell her that I was set upon by a floundering fish in the stream during my morning stroll." The deep rumble of laughter shook his chest, rocking her in his lap, the feel of her bottom sliding against his still painful erection causing him to tense and reigniting the all-powerful passion that lay between them. Pulling her hands away from her face, he set them against his chest, directly over his heart; he tilted her face up and took her lips, pulling them again into a sweet haven created for them and them alone. Darian's heartbeat increased under her hand, his muscles tightened and bunched when she let her hands smooth upward to following his lapels, massaging gently when she reached his broad shouldersthe moan that escaped him only served to encourage her explorations. Empowered by his reaction she touched him, spreading her hands where they could reach, she drug her nails lightly across the sensitive skin on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Their bodies clung, and pulled at each other, trying to erase the space between them, taking their breath from each other, swimming in the passion that lapped at them. Clarissa was having difficulty putting her thoughts together, unable to do anything but enjoy the kiss, enjoy him. She had never felt like this, she had never encountered feelings this strong,

feelings that swept you away and wouldn't allow you to find your way back to reality. She heard only the sound of her own panting breath and her heartbeat pounding in her chest, loud and thumping like a drum, drowning out all else around them. Hearing a gong being sounded in the distance brought Darian back to earth, floating back to consciousness, aware again that they were sitting in Maddy's garden. He reluctantly pulled back from her, breaking the contact of their mouths. Pushing his hands into her hair, he held her, refusing her attempts to press her face into his coat, not allowing her to hide the light in her eyes, not wanting her to hide her arousal. Clarissa looked at him, hoping he didnt notice her blush; she had left herself wide open and unable to disguise the emotions that were there in her face, allowing him to read all that was in her. She had no idea why it was so easy to lose herself in Darian, to feel and want to feel so much. She was pliant in his arms, allowing him liberties she knew she shouldn't, when he touched her she lost all maidenly fear and was swept away with him to another place and time, to a place where nothing else matteredshe felt comfortable. She felt right when she was with him. There were no regrets when they were apart, only jittery anticipation for the next meeting, and wonders of what he would teach her next. It occurred to her that these informal lessons may help her in her search for a husband. Darian was unknowingly introducing her to a subject matter where she was extremely lacking in knowledge. Agreeing to wait six months before going to London would give her time to learn what she would need to know to help her to ensnare a proper husband.

Darian peered into her eyes, open and truthful, she had enjoyed kissing him, enjoyed him kissing her, touching her; she had enjoyed it all. It pleased him and calmed his wayward thoughts; there just might be a possibility that she would indeed marry him. He was surprised at finding the woman who could make his life easier was the same woman who made him want to fallto need to fall into the parson's mousetrap. The gong sounded again reminding him that they were in a very ill advised position, inappropriately embracing in a gardenalthough, if caught in such a predicament it could help his cause, but would, no doubt, be detrimental to her reputation, not to mention her pride.

"You must return to the Hall, they'll be expecting you, we don't want them to let loose the hounds to come looking for you." "Indeed!" She pressed her lips to his, hopped to her feet, and raced down the path, holding her heavy and dampened skirts up from dragging the ground as she went, and leaving him sitting alone and suddenly cold by the babbling stream. He watched her departure, unable to take his eyes from the hypnotizing sway of hips and long flow of dark curls gliding down her back and bumping her rear as she went. Feeling his eyes on her, she stopped and swiveled back toward him, he stood at seeing her turn. She graced him with a brilliant smile and a small wave, then turned again and continued toward the Hall. Clarissa was feeling optimistic, he had brightened her day and made her feel all would be right with her world very soon, she could feel the cheer seep into her bones, her smile stayed with her all the way back to her room. Darian rubbed the tightness in his chest as he stood watching her retreat until she was out of sight, the smile she had given him had constricted his chest, causing any response he could have made impossible. He had been dumb struck by her beauty, when she was lit up with happiness it was as if the world had stopped and his knees had weakened. It took all his strength to keep from racing to her, tossing her alluring body over his shoulder and stealing her off to Gretna Greenmaking her his own forever more, never letting her go. Once again, he was thinking like an untried boy, unable to do anything else when it came to Clarissa Brighton. Setting his mind to task, he was now determined to restrain himself, to keep his mind focused on his plan, to woo her as no woman has been wooed beforeeven if it killed him, which it just might he concluded as he headed back to Whitterly Hall. He became more determined with every squishing step of his ruined Hessians.

Chapter 6
Clarissa sat in the morning room, paying no attention to the needle in her hand as she worked stitch after stitch. She glanced from the door to the slightly opened window, enduring the tepid morning breeze as it wafted in, impatiently awaiting to see if Darian would be able to make an appearance today. Maddy silently sorted silk threads as she sat at the opposite end of the settee from Clarissa, picking her head up and glancing curiously at her from time to time. Darian had been noticeably absent for five lonely days, she had expected him to resume his attentions to her after the passing of the strong storm, which had battered them relentlessly two days ago. Laying abed nightly, she had listened to the howling wind and the beat of rain against the window panes, and berated herself for missing him, for needing to see him, for wanting to hear his voice, to feel his touch, telling herself he would soon returnbut he hadnt. Her thoughts had never been so entangled, so centered on one person, wanting to know where he was, wondering what he was doing, what he was thinking, who he was with. The last question was the most worrisome to her sanity. Perhaps his attentions were derived purely from opportunity and not from a draw of two like forces as she had believed. When she had left him by the water's edge she had intended to take advantage of his experience, absorbing all she could from his passionate tutelage. The idea, although enticing and thrilling, had given her pangs of guilt. He had not, at this point, given her any cause to fear that he had rakish tendencies or wished any improper relations. There had not been any mention of her becoming his mistress, but neither had there been any mention of him wishing to wed. There was definitely a need for clarification of his intentions; she had been so determined to believe him to be a selfish, boorish man that she had refused to consider Darian as a potential savior to her unavoidable predicament. His aristocratic caliber and undeniable attractiveness were traits sought after by reaching debutantes throughout the ton, it was not impossible to believe that where their quixotic lust had stirred so too may deep affection or perhaps even love. "Are you by chance expecting someone Clarissa?" Maddy's words brought her from her reverie. "Not expecting someone, per se, but I was beginning to wonder why Darian has not appeared recently." She stated casually.

"I do believe he will present himself shortly, he seems as enamored of you as you are of him; he was undoubtedly detained with property matters after the storm." Maddy's words were accompanied by a small secretive smile. "He is not enamored of me!" She declared, unconsciously failing to deny her own feelings. "I would wholeheartedly encourage the match, I have known Darian since he was a small child and have watched him grow into a kind and generous man. A heart as fine as his is a rarity. You would be foolish not to consider him as a mate, and keeping your current situation in mind, he may be your most favorable option." "He has made no mention of wishing to wed." Maddy waved a hand in the air, dismissing Clarissa's statement. "He is of an age where society expects him to wed and produce an heir to his title. Im sure that if the king hasnt already made the suggestion then he soon will. He is a duke, therefore, he has no choice; it is his duty. I am confident that it has occurred to him that you would make a fitting wife. He has intimated as much to me only a week ago." Clarissa's brow furrowedshe had only met Darian weeks agoshe was now unsure if Maddy was speaking with her needs in mind or possibly someone else's. "I would not want the circumstances of my situation to spoil any possibilities that may come forth." Maddy nodded agreement. "I would advise you to make your decision based more on your heart and less on the contingencies of your father's will. Once you speak your vows you will find the matter to be less of a factor in your marital endeavors." Maddy, having said her peace went back to sorting threads and allowed Clarissa to digest all that had been said.

Darian saddled his stallion, led him to the open doors of the stables and gained freedom of the structure; he lifted himself astride, nudged Deliverance toward Thornbridge Hall, toward the woman who had haunted his dreams for the past torturous week of nights. Moving at a slow pace he meandered in and out of the cool shadows created by the morning sun as it warmed the towering oaks along the stream, he followed it toward the bridge. Reflecting on the past troublesome days, he wondered at his sanity, he had taken little time to sleep and even less time to wash and make himself presentable before rushing to Clarissa. A

storm that had come an hour after leaving her side at the stream just days ago had ripped through the land causing unimaginable destruction along with many unaffordable expenses. Whitterly Hall and the stables were, thankfully, left mostly untouched, but the fencing and his workers' cottages were severely damaged. He had spent endless hours alongside his men putting the property to rights and gathering the wandering animals, which luckily all survived the fearsome ordeal. Crossing the bridge, he headed Deliverance toward Maddy's estate. A gangly groom jogged toward him as he entered the stable yard, which fronted the large building, he handed the reins over as he swung from his mount. "I plan to escort Miss Brighton on a ride, would you please have a suitable mount readied?" "Aye, Your Grace." The groom was off with a quick nod as he led the stallion into the stables. Darian continued on to the Hall where he prayed Clarissa awaited him; he had spent many moments hoping she had noticed his absence, wondering if she had felt as bereft as he had. Entering from the main doors, he was led across the foyer and down a short hallway where he was announced at the doorway of the morning room. Maddy stood immediately, a large smile filling her eyes with warmth, holding her hands out, she embraced him as was her usual fashion; he returned her affection with a wink, giving her hands and a fond squeeze. Clarissa also stood but her stance was more timid, unsure. Darian bowed gracefully, and placed a tender kiss on her fingers then reluctantly released her as he sat in a large chair facing the settee. Maddy spoke first, eager for his recounting of his time away. "How have you fared at the mercy of such a horrendous storm?" "Well enough, matters are on their way to being repaired, allowing me to call on much missed friends this morning." "We welcome you, as we greatly felt a loss at your absence. She looked pointedly at Clarissa as she spoke. Isn't that so my dear?" "Indeed, Your Grace, we were just wondering aloud at your welfare moments before you arrived." She twisted her fingers together, her gaze averted, looking just slightly over his shoulder as she blushed at Maddy's obvious prodding.

"I am honored at your concerns, I was hoping Miss Brighton would accompany me on a ride to repair my ragged constitutions and enjoy the pleasantness of the day." "I would very much like to accompany you," she stated while rising from the settee. "Please allow me a few moments to change into my riding habit, Your Grace." With his nod she left the room, once out of sight of the morning room, she hitched up her skirts and raced up the stairway. She paused at the top, turning her gaze back to the entryway. She had thought she had seen a shadow of a figure ducking into the library as she had passed, headed for the base of the stairway. Not seeing anything she continued to her room, deciding her eyes were playing tricks on her mind. Darian watched Clarissa's departure from the room then turned back to Maddy and quirked an eyebrow at her grin. "I assume you have chosen Clarissa as the heiress that will deliver you from your woes?" She stated boldly. He smiled at the frankness he had come to expect from her. "I have indeed, I believe you must approve, you did after all encourage the match." "I do approve, absolutely, I have ascertained from Clarissa's statements of recent that she also would approve of the match." "Oh, and what has she said to give such an impression?" He asked, sitting forward in his chair, desperate for any proof that she may accept his proposal. "She has informed me that she believes she is at an age where society would expect her to wed and produce an heir to her fathers title. I am confident that it has occurred to her that you would make a fitting husband. She has intimated as much to me only a week ago, and keeping your current situation in mind, she is perhaps your most favorable option." An echo of her earlier words brought a secretive smile to her face. Darian looked at her skeptically, his brow furrowed. He had only met Clarissa a few short weeks ago, unsure if Maddy was speaking with his needs in mind or possibly someone else's. "I would not want the situation I am presently in, to be known." Maddy nodded. "I believe her womanly pride would suffer at the thought of a marriage of convenience, it would most assuredly be more beneficial if we kept those matters strictly between ourselves." Maddy agreed matter-of-factly.

Hearing footsteps falling softly on the stairway he refrained from continuing the conversation as he wanted to do. Standing, he made a low bow to Maddy, with her nod he turned and walked toward the base of the stairway, arms crossed over his chest, watching Clarissa's decent. Glancing to his right he saw Lily and Felicity enter the hallway from the library beyond the morning room, walking toward him with heads close together in a whispered conversation. They walked past him and into the sunroom opposite the entryway, not once glancing at him. Shaking his head in confusion he returned his gaze to Clarissa, her smile faded a little as she followed the girls progress into the sunroom, but quickly returned when she remembered his presence. She was dressed in a riding habit, deep blue in color, the jacket tight fitting at her generous bosom, flaring at her waist, gliding down over her hips. Her hair was coiled tightly atop her head; wisps already escaped the demure knot, dancing about her swanlike neck. A smile was shining in her eyes as she descended, walking carefully, grasping the folds of her skirts, holding the hem from catching under her kid boots. She took his breath away with a mere look, a simple smile. He had met her only weeks ago, never having expected the disagreeable woman to be the one to make him hunger like a man starving. She made his mind, usually resolute and unwavering from his purpose, whirl and spin, clouded; he was unable to regain his balance. He had been so concentrated on contradicting the soured legacy left by his wastrel of a father that he had dismissed his own needs, leaving him unaware of the desires of his mind and body until Clarissa had appeared. Thoughts of her seized him during the daylight hours, pulling him from his duties; thought of her overtook his dreams at night, invading his sleep with insatiable nocturnal pleasures. Her hand on his sleeve jolted him from his reverie; the touch excited his nerves and sent shivers racing across his all too ready flesh. Darian are you sure you are well? She asked, a frown pulling at her mouth. Yes He took a deep breath, attempting to rein in his overzealous passions. Lets walk to the stables and retrieve our mounts. Placing his hand over her fingers as they lay on his arm, he turned her toward the front door. Clarissa had to increase her pace to keep up with his long powerful stride as she walked along beside him. Tugging gently on his arm she tried to gain his attention. Are we in a race?

When he failed to notice her difficulties she jerked her arm free and stepped away from him toward a nearby oak, leaning against its rough bark to catch her breath, she halted their progress. Darian, perhaps you should rest, youve been working hard these last few days. We can go for a ride another day, I can surely wait until youve regained yourself. Her words softened with worry. He walked to her, stopping when the tips of his Hessians were covered by the hem of her skirts. Perhaps you can wait but I would find that to be an excruciating exercise, which would undoubtedly lead to my untimely demise. His breath mingled with hers, his hand cupped her chin as he lowered his lips, brushing them teasingly against hers. Her eyes widened as she watched him come near, kissing her lips; she couldnt help but to see the ravenous intent in his dark gaze. Emboldened, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and buried her fingers in the soft hair at his collar. Tugging hard she slammed his body to hers, demanding the full power of his desires, removing any possibility of him disengaging himself from the embrace. She kissed him, he kissed her, lips, teeth, tongues struggling for supremacy, each wanted more, demanded more, making up for lost time. He slid his hands down over the sensitive sides of her breasts, into the gentle curve of her waist, squeezing lightly then following the line of her hips, he grasped her rear fully in his palms, lifted her, pulled her closer to his hard frame to protect her sensitive flesh from being abraded by the coarse bark of the tree at her back. Deepening the mating of their mouths, he shared her breath, his tongue delved, sliding against hers, dragging a moan from her. She was lost, drifting with him, her body no longer her own. His hands burned her senses, heating her to the point of ignition. Her knees had weakened, buckling under his onslaught; she gripped onto him as he pressed her into the tree, cold and rough in comparison to his warm and smoothly muscled frame. She could feel his erection hard against the apex of her thighs, making an odd ache throb inside her, drawing forth an allconsuming heat at her core. She wiggled her hips, spreading her thighs Clarissa attempted to perfect the fit of him against her, loosening a tortured moan from deep in his chest. Darians body was clamoring for release; he needed to rein in his voracious appetite before they were seen. They were standing in plain view of many of the Halls windows, anyone would be able to see them and then his plans would be destroyed.

Although, their heated embrace did encourage him. Her passion, even as an innocent, surpassed any other women that he had ever encountered, their life together was going to be a mass of many different emotions, intense to say the leasthe planned to enjoy every single moment of it all. Taking advantage of her inability to resist him, he pulled back from her, breaking her weakened hold easily. Still supporting her, he watched as she opened her eyes, her pupils were dilated with arousal. Wide violet eyes stared at him, lips swollen from his kisses, her body still simmered, glowing with desire. I wouldnt want your reputation to be in ruins because of something I have done. Its imperative we find some privacy, we need to speak of a few specific matters of importance. Clarissa nodded even though her mind was still reeling, and allowed him to take her hand, tugging her along toward the stables. The fog slowly lifted from her addled brain, she wondered at what was so important that he would need to speak with her alone- Maddy must have been true in her words, there was no other explanation. Reaching the stable yard, Darian handed her up onto a pretty little mare, which shied and side stepped a little at his closeness, and nearly crushed his feet in the process. Having realized he had never seen this horse before, he looked the mare over with an expert eye. She was a beautiful specimen of horseflesh, chestnut in color, a good size; maybe slightly too large for a mare. Her ears were held high while she eyed him back, seemingly daring him to enter her space again. Darian skin pricked with caution, perhaps this mare wasnt safe enough for Clarissa to ride. Deciding the risk was too great, Darian turned to request a more suitable mount from the groom. Seeing the unsure look on his face, Clarissa attempted to explain. Her name is Dandelion. His brow quirked at her statement, but he remained silent, Shes mine; I had her brought to me here at Thornbridge Hall from London. She seems a little skittish. He said, openly showing his doubts about the mares temperament, I would prefer a different horse for you. My father gave her to me as a gift when I came-out. she patted Dandelion's neck protectively and glared at him, unable to hide her displeasure at his criticism. Shes mine. She repeated her earlier words with a little more force. Shes a little wild, but very sturdy. She knows how to run, but she is just as content to wander aimlessly.

He shook his head ruefully and walked to his own mount, lifted himself and swung onto the stallion. He glanced back at her, his voice gruff. Shell be my temperamental horse to do with as I see fit if she causes you to fall and break your beautiful neck. He turned and urged his horse, Deliverance, forward, avoiding Clarissas gaze, unwilling to let her see the fear he knew had to be in his eyes. He considered the gut-wrenching emotions that she seemed to invoke in him, and found that he disliked it immensely; she had a way of turning him inside-out without even being aware of it. If she ever realized her powers over him, he would be in deep trouble. Hearing Dandelions clopping steps behind him, he continued on, slowing his pace slightly until she pulled alongside of him. Her face was stubbornly turned away from him as she refused to look at him. Guilt ate at his temper, he tried to make amends, reaching out, he put his hand on her shoulder, lightly caressing down along her arm to her elbow. She shivered at his touch then snapped her head around, staring him dead in the eye, a mischievous smile appearing, she stuck out her tongue at him, kicked at Dandelions sides and was off in a streak, leaving a cloud of dust and the remnants of a gleeful laugh in her wake. He had no choice but to follow, shocked and disbelieving that this was the same woman who had just glared at him as if she detested him and his overbearing ideas. He hoped that he had the restraint needed to keep himself from putting her over his knee like a wayward child or a better ideathrowing her to the ground and ravishing her. Clarissa had forgotten the feeling of racing through an open field, feeling free and happy as everything passed in a blur, the wind pulling at her hair. She could hear the heavy hooves of Darians horse coming up behind her, the competition instinctively pushed Dandelion faster and faster through the tall grass, making it whip at her feet. Pulling back on the reins, disheartened she slowed the horses pace. Experience told her it was not wise to travel so fast while riding sidesaddle. A brilliant smile was still on her face when Darian pulled his horse next to hers and matched her pace; they slowed to a gentle walk. Woman, what the hell do you think you are doing, you could have killed yourself, have you lost all your good sense? His sour look and angry words could not detract from her happiness in the slightest. Oh, posh, Ive been riding since I could walk. With a dismissive wave she settled her horse behind his and refused to allow him the arguments rolling through his mind. Dandelion

followed Deliverance out of instinct, nose to tail; Clarissas smile was still in place as they edged onto a path leading through a small thicket of woods and into a grassy clearing. Oh, Darian, its so beautiful! Clarissa exclaimed, bring her hand to her chest. They stopped just inside the opening of the private haven. Dropping to the ground, landing neatly on his feet, he walked the small distance to her and lifted her down. He let her feet slip to the ground then released her and tied the horses reins to a small tree where they could munch grass contentedly. While he saw to their mounts, Clarissa wandered around the circular clearing, listening to the birds chirping happily. Lifting a hand to her hair, she felt the tangle of loosened tresses and tried to sweep them back into the knot atop her head. Failing to restore order to the mass, she gave up, and released it from its confines, allowing it to sweep down to sway back and forth against her rear as she walked. She drifted as she inspected every bloom she passed, picking a few as she went along, coming full circle, returning to where she had started, she swiveled back to where Darian was standing. Darian had been watching her as she floated along, the image reminding him of how he had saw her in his all-too-common dreams. Her long hair had become a dark waterfall flowing and entrancing him; her eyes bright as she ran her fingertips along the tops of the tall grass; a smile played at her full, sweet lips as it tickle at the sensitive skin of her palms. Her steps were light as she danced from bloom to bloom, burying her nose in the brightly colored petals to smell deeply of their wild scent. Each time she bent from the waist her hair swayed over her shoulder and hid her face, she flicked it back again with a natural wave of her hand. This place is enchanting, amazing, its so beautiful! She said on a bubbling laugh, her features alight with awe at the magical place he had brought her to. Darian, how did you find such a wondrous place? Her smile slipped a little when she saw the intense flare of heat that had engulfed him, heating her flesh as his eyes wandered over her features. Come to me Clarissa. He beckoned with a crook of his finger. Unable to deny his request, she walked toward him slowly; her nerves jittered as she came nearer and nearer, closing the distance between their impatient bodies. He held out his hands, taking hers into a firm grasp, looking steadily into her eyes as he unexpectedly threw his entire plan out with his next words.

Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? His words were spoken clearly without the slightest waver in his voice even though his face had grown pale. His eyes closed tightly as he waited for her response, unknowingly giving away the uncertainly that lay within his mind. His intentions were to bring her here and woo her, to impress her, to make her want him. He had only wanted to endear her heart to him with kisses and sweet words, giving her time to come to the conclusions, which had so quickly come to him. The only explanation his mind could conjure was that he had gotten caught in the moment. Her striking beauty mixed with the enchantment of a warm scented day and the lack of her presence over the last few days had led to his mind emptying of all the good sense he was born with. A whirlwind of emotions tightened her throat and restricted her words; she put her hand to her forehead trying to stop the spinning, dropping her hands she stared at Darian who had now opened his eyes. He tried to gauge her reaction, attempting to decipher her answer from her movements. Hoping to remove the doubts that lay lingering in her mind, he forged ahead. "I believe there is a connection between us; a passion that links us. A passion that will lead us down a path that starts with affection and attraction and over time will become a strong foundation of love. I have no need of a marriage of conveniencemy soul beckons for a home, a family, a kindness that will be true of heart. I was under the impression that you were looking for the same." She stared dumbfounded at him, unsure if she was dreamingor if perhaps she was delirious. He was offering to relieve her of every complication that had been unfairly laid at her feet. He was offering to deliver her from her troubles and adding to it a life she could have only hoped for under the circumstances. It seemed too good to be true, but it would be utterly insane for her to refuse him. "YesDarianI will marry you." With a loud whoop he grabbed her to him, picked her up into the air and spun her in circles until her head was once again spinning. He was laughing and smiling as she had never seen him do while she was praying that she had made the correct decisionhoping that it truly wasnt too good to be true. Lowering her, her body slid against his, her skin felt tight, and her breath caught in her chest as he bent toward her. He kissed her, showing her his appreciation, giving himself to her and asking her to give herself in return. She couldn't deny him; she didn't want to deny him. Gifting

him with all that she knew to give, she clung to him and held him to her body as she held him to her heart. "We must return to Thornbridge!" He gasped, pulling his mouth from hers and clearing his throat, which had become clogged with desire. He watched her lids slowly flitter open and swallowed a groan before bringing his lips back to hers for a quick, but sweet kiss. "Why? This place is magical, it's a perfect place." They both understood what she was offering. He would have loved to be able to accept her offer, but he wanted to at least do one thing proper when it came to her. Guilt was creeping up on him; he had told her a partial truth. If she found out the complete truth on her own, before he could make her love him, she would never trust him again, he would lose everything. He kissed her tenderly, cupping her soft face with his hands. "I believe we should leave the yet unknown until our wedding night, not that I wouldn't love to take you here and now in this very spot." He paused feeling his wits slipping slowly back into place. "Believe me I would like nothing more at this moment. You have haunted my dreams; the thought of lying with you has nearly brought me to my knees on many occasions since I first saw you in Maddys garden." He warmed both her eyelids with sweet kisses. "I want to wait for you; I want our joining to be a moment that will bring us together as man and wife, linking our bodies as we link our lives." She nodded, unable to speak as tears spilled onto her smooth cheeks; he kissed the moisture away and pulled her toward Dandelion. Grasping her waist, he lifted her onto the saddle then handed her the reins. He swung up into his own saddle, and they headed back to the Hall, riding in silence, not speaking in words but in stolen glances, each speaking volumes, telling of their happiness.

Chapter 7
"Now what are we to do?" Felicity's blurted in Lily's general direction but to no one in particular. The girls had watched the embracing pair from a short distance outside the clearing. They had snuck into the brush, expecting to hear their respective siblings discussing an affair, not planning wedded bliss. "They can't marry, we're doomed Lily!" "They seemed happy; maybe we misunderstood the reasoning of their agreement." "We didn't misunderstand it at all, your sister is going to marry my brother and it will be a catastrophe." Felicity's words got louder and higher in pitch as she began to become hysterical. "Perhaps we should speak to Maddy? Maybe she can help us, she'll understand, she'll know what to do." "I dont need to talk to Maddy to know what Darian's going to dohes going to leave us at Whitterly, go to London, and take your sister with him. Theyre going to leave us here, all alone." Tears stung her eyes as she continued. "Your sister needs a husband to keep your parents title; my brother needs a wife for the blunt." The tears she held so tightly escaped and rolled down her face leaving damp streaks. "Once they marry there will be nothing here for themthey're going to leave, mark my words, it won't be the first time he has left me." Felicity's reasoning was starting to make sense, when Clarry married Darian, they would no longer have Maddy as their guardian, and Darian would have the funds to return to London and his gentleman-about-town ways, of course he would take his bride on with him. Clarry had been trying to hide everything from the start; she'd been secretive and distant since their parents deaths. Everything was coming together; and now Lily knew that everything would change. She would no longer be a part in her sister's world when she married Darian, they would want to be a family, it was clear that Felicity had the right of it. "We have no choice; we have to stop them, for all our sakes." Lily hugged Felicity tightly, bolstering both of their hopes and setting away some of their fear. "Let's go, we need to get back and act as if we know nothing. We have to get a plan together and be quick about it; we have little time and much to do if were going to stop this all from happening."

The girls raced to their respective mounts, swung themselves up, and raced back to the Hall, the sun shining brightly on their backs as they hastened across the open pasture. A quiet calm fell over the enchanted plot they had left in their wake.

Darkened shadows shifted and swayed across the clearing, the breeze blowing at the twisted limbs of a gnarled old oak standing proud under which a shaded figure appeared. Cursing and struggling, the figure attempted to disentangle limbs from a clinging vine, which was growing among the lush bracken sprouting from the fertile soil. Raising a hand to brow, shading eyes from the suns rays, the figure watched the girls leave, following their small forms as they rode speedily toward Thornbridge. With a muttered curse the figure walked slowly toward the awaiting horse, which had been concealed behind a group of shrubs set further back and at a distance from the sheltered haven. "I refuse to be denied, I will have my desire, and I will have my due!" Mounting hurriedly the horse shied to the side. "I have loyalty, unlike this family of bounders; I have been forced to wait far too long for a promise to be honored as is due. I will not be pushed to the wayside now, I will wait for my reward to come to me; I will force the fates to my ends if needed! I must hasten the path that leads me to my future, my destiny, I will have what is mine and I will have it very soon!" Kicking the side of the horse forcefully, the figure bellowed in anger, and raced away, heading in the direction opposite Thornbridge. Maddy had not been surprised at Clarissa and Darians announcement; she had prepared them both before they had left for their ride. When they returned with the good news she had listened, nodded encouragingly, smiled secretively and congratulated the happy couple much to their bemusement. "A fall wedding would be delightful." Maddy's words caused both Clarissa and Darian's eyes to swing, come together and lock; each silently questioningly to the other. "I think it should be sooner." Darian raised his brow at her, hoping, begging for Clarissa's agreement. He wasn't sure he had the strength required to resist the tempting woman for such a length of time, but neither could his finances sustain themselves without the much needed transfusion she would bring to the joining.

"OhOh, yes II think much soonsooner would indeed be better." The desire that lit his gaze brought on her stutter. She couldnt help but understand the need he was silently expressing, the need that was heating her also, making her chest tighten, and restricting her breath. "You do understand that we will need some time to prepare? Exactly how soon do you wish to hold the ceremony?" Maddy queried looking from Clarissa to Darian. Clarissa jumped in with an answer, surprising even herself. "I believe a week should allow us plenty of time." Darian smiled widely at her. Appreciation shone brightly in his face along with something else altogetherthe only name she could put to it was anticipation, making her wonder if she was truly prepared for all of that was to come. "An engagement ball will be necessary, I do believe." Maddys voice rose slightly to capture their attention, to bring them back to the conversation. "We will be a bit harried with the preparations, but I am positive we can accomplish this." Pressing her palms together she brought them to her chin; thinking, "Today being Wednesday, we should hold a ball for Saturday and the ceremony Wednesday next." Both nodded emphatically at her in agreement. Maddy stood, walked to the doorway, and turned while motioning for them to follow. Stopping at the front entryway she opened the door and ushered Darian through, "We have much to plan. You do understand, Darian?" With laughter in his eyes, he allowed himself to be dismissed, nodding his affirmation. Turning halfway down the steps, he stopped, and looked back at Clarissa. "Until, I see you next, my dear." With a short wave and a wink he was gone.

The days leading up to Saturday, the day of their engagement dinner, which would be followed by their ball, were hectic to say the least. There were so many things to be done, but Maddy deftly directed staff and friends, welcoming all helping hands, guiding them through what need to be done for the expectant day like the Grande dame she was. She seemed happier than Clarissa had ever seen her. The dinner was reserved for close friends and family while hundreds were invited to the balland very few had failed to accept the honor. Guests filled the large home, coming from all directions, city and country alike, unfortunately, most of them were unknown to Clarissa.

Clarissa sat in front of her dressing table as Abby piled her thick tresses high atop her head. Maddy had insisted she have a gown made especially for the occasions and brought in a modiste to prepare both her ball gown and her wedding dress. The short and rounded French woman, Brigitte, was very lofty and exuded nothing but confidence in her talents. And she had reason to be, in Clarissas opinion. The gauzy, floating creation she made for the ball was spectacular. She saw herself as she had never seen before. The reflection in the mirror, dressed elegantly in this fabulous gown, was a vision of her mother. She saw the resemblance she had always denied; she saw the beauty she had doubted for so long but others had often commented upon. She was anxious to see the look on Darians face when he saw her for the first time tonight. All set, Miss, what do you think? Abby asked expectantly. I have no idea how you manage to get all my hair put into place and secured with so much ease. You, my dear, are a godsend. Clarissa patted the silky upswept hair at her nape in amazement. I have often left it down because it is so difficult to work with. Thank you, my dear Abby. Pausing to consider how to approach the subject that had come to mind Clarissa turned from side to side to appreciate the young maids handy work. Abby, would you wish to come with me when I marry? We would mostly be at Whitterly Hall through the year, we may need to travel a bit, but we'd always return here andhonestly, I need you. Her Grace has already informed me that I will accompany you to your new home, Miss. Abby stated slightly confused, a wrinkle forming across her smooth young brow. I understand that, but I will not force you to leave here, Thornbridge is your home. I will tell Maddy I dont require your service if you wish not to go. It will be your decision and yours alone. Miss, I do wish to be with you, I am a ladys maid, I am your ladys maid, I am to go where I am told, but I'm deeply thankful for your thoughtfulness, I understand my place in this world. Oh, Abby, you are more than a ladys maid, you are my friend. Clarissa hugged the girl, saddened by the cruel notions of the world. Releasing her, she went to stand in front of the mirror. Standing back, she twirled, looking at her own reflection. I cant believe that woman is truly me! You look like a magical fairy, Miss. Abby said with a sigh.

With an appreciative smile, Clarissa turned and left the room, padding toward the stairs, pausing at the top; she glanced down and saw Darian waiting at its foot, his face averted, momentarily unaware of her. He was a handsome figure, dressed to the tens in dress blacks, a crisp white cravat tied expertly at his neck, and blue-silver waistcoat fitting snugly across his muscled chest. He was definitely a sight to behold; just his presence was enough to take her breath away, leaving her gasping for support. She continued down the stairs to him, to herfiancshe neatly filled the word into her thoughts, still tripping over the words when they were spoken aloud on her tongue. Darian turned when he heard her light steps, and drew a deep breath as he watched her come to him with a shy smile on her face. Her gown was flowing about her, blue gauze floating and glistening in the light. The bodice was cut stylishly low and exposed the soft mounded tops of her breasts, curving down and inward to hold tightly at her slight waist, then returning to smooth gently over her perfectly curved hips. She looked like a mystical mermaid beckoning to him, he couldn't help but think that he would surly enjoy crashing into the rough cliffs along the shore if it meant he would be with her for a mere minute. Holding his hand out to her, a playful spark lit his dark eyes as she neared; he pulled gently when she placed her hand in his, and caught her in his arms when she stumbled down the last step. Holding her close, he kissed her lips softly, and whispered to her in a low strained voice dripping with desire. You are an amazing and beautiful woman, and I hunger for you. Her blush spread, breath abated, her eyes cast downward, as she shied a glace up to see his face. Perfect, he was looking at her just the way she had hoped, she loved the excitement that rushed through her, which spread through her limbs, tingling and heating where it traveled. When he stared at her with such desire, her body took control of her mind and fire spread throughout her insides, incinerating her from within. Releasing her, he stepped back, taking her hand and placing her fingers on his sleeve, he guided her toward the parlor where their diner guest waited to be lead to the formal dining room. All eyes turned to them when they entered the room; everyone was smiling at how handsome of a couple they madethat is everyone except their respective sisters. The girls turned from their presence, distancing themselves from the crowd, which was forming to ooh and ahh over the happy couple. Linking arms, the girls smiled at each other,

and walked toward the window. Heads close together as they spoke in hushed tones. When do we put forth our plan? Lily asked. I believe we will have to wait, we cannot approach Elmira without being noticed at this time, when the ball gets underway it will provide our much needed cover. Felicitys eyes darted toward Elmira Brentwood who was irritatedly standing slightly away from the couple, a fake smile gracing her face, bringing an honest smile to both girls faces. When we have an opportunity to get her alone, well prepare her to do our bidding, shes already so vexed at the prospect of losing Darian that she will undoubtedly take our suggestions and run with them without needing much persuasion. With a nod Lily agreed with their proposed timeline for their designs. The butler announced diner and led the way to the dining room, the girls followed arm in arm looking the part of the innocent sisters, eyes bright, they giggling in the wake of the others as they strolled. Maddy, much to Clarissas appreciation, arranged for Elmira to be seated at the opposite end of the table along with her pest of a brother, Arnold. The two were not in oblivion of the fact and looked extremely displeased, both shooting daggers at her with their eyes. Clarissa realized she would need to clarify Darians previous relations with Elmira Brentwood; the wondering would surely kill her. The woman believed she had more of a hold on him then she obviously did, and insisted upon making Clarissa aware of her claim with every scowling glare. With exception of the Brentwoods, the guests seemed to have had a delightful meal and were anticipating the excitement of the expected crush, even Lily and Felicity seemed to be having a much needed pleasant night. Everyone around them was laughing and enjoying themselves. Darian on the other hand was somber, quietly observing those around him and often sliding glances in her direction. What is it that's troubling you? Clarissa asked him quietly. A smile touched his mouth but a strange sad light flitted across his eyes, he winked at her and put his hand to hers under the table, grasping her fingers he squeezed gently as he reassuringly held her gaze for a moment before speaking. "Everything is perfectespecially if you promise a waltz to me," Darian answered, unable to explain his true thoughts, unable to tell her he was wondering if he would ever be able to make her fall in love with him. He wanted reassurance that she would in time return the love he felt for herrealizing that he hadn't known the depth of his own emotion until now. He'd never met

anyone who had inspired such feelings within him, who had the strength to draw such hope from his heart. Now he had, and he was afraid she would never be able to reciprocate, never see him as he saw her. Never dream of their future children, never wonder where their lives together would take themwhat a tangled web he had managed to weave. Wonderingly, he asked himself how he had gotten from the place where he had been so few years ago to where he now stood. He had met and had numerous women over the last nearly twenty years, and never felt an iota of emotion toward them besides lust. There had often been times where he hadn't been able to remember their names when he awoke next to them in the morning. Startled to find himself in an unfamiliar bed, he had dressed quickly and quietly and fled into the misty dawn hours. He had been a rake, an unequalled profligate. Unfortunately, it didnt make up for his behavior that he was now ashamed of his old ways; he had used women and considered them less than himself for searching to quench their desires, their needs. It struck him then, that he had more in common with his father than he had once believed he had gone through women as his father had gone through coin. The cruel epiphany turned his stomach; he was determined to correct those wrongs, here and now with Clarissa. He would make a life for them. The woman of his thoughts squeezed his hand and brought him back. He looked at her curiously, realizing she was trying to tell him the group was now ready to enter the ballroom, ready to greet the expected crowds that had already begun arriving. Standing, he held her chair out, and offered his hand. She accepted his assistance, coming to her feet, standing close to him, and watching the emotions that had flitted there a minute ago as they now disappeared before her eyes. A solid mask replaced the open expression before she had gotten a chance to decipher its meaning. She was a little offended that he refused to share his thoughts and his feelings with her, they were to share a life together but they could not when he purposely distanced himself from her. "Later we will discuss whatever it is that has been bothering you tonight. Now is not the time but at some point, we will, I make that promise to you." Clarissa stated firmly, turning, flipping her skirts around behind her as she stepped. She took his arm and walked to follow the others toward the ballroom. His only response to her warning was a raised eyebrow and an innocent smile. They took their places in the receiving line to welcome their guests, smiling at their numerous offers of happiness.

The girls hurried past the crowds, slipping among the brightly colored gowns and the sea of black dress coats to where Elmira Brentwood stood, alone, glaring at the cup of punch that was clutched tightly in her hand. "Miss Brentwood, is there something troubling you?" Felicity asked with a bright smile as they came to her side. "Nothings wrong that could possibly be helped by two young children barely free of their wet nurse." She huffed, ready to turn away from them haughtily when Lily grabbed her elbow. "I believe that you are very incorrect in your assumptions, Miss Brentwood." Raising her brows at the girls, she looked suspicious, but paused in her exit. "Oh and how is that?" "We believe you would rather there not be upcoming nuptials between Darian and Clarissa, we, much like you, wish to stop these unwelcome dealings that have so suddenly come about; we also believe there is a way to fix the trouble we all have found ourselves in." Lily informed her, the girls' smiles widened with the dawning that quickly passed over Elmira's face only to be hidden just as quickly. "Indeed; how so?" "Clarissa is unaware of any past relations Darian has had or may still be havingwith you, to be specific." Felicity encouraged her to follow their thinking. "There were very little relations to speak of in London and even less relations since he returned to Whitterly." Exasperation dripped from her words as if she was speaking to dull witted children. "Yeswe know that." The girls responded in unison. Elmira looked past the girls at the happy couple standing near the entryway, considering the words. Looking back to the girls she smiled brightly, nodded and walked away leaving the girls to quietly celebrate. Her duties done for the moment, Clarissa was standing in the shadow of a tall potted palm, enjoying her hiding spot, glad of the quiet. She had been bombarded with questions from every person she had tried to slip past in her vain attempt to escape the crushing thrall. She had quickly grown tired of the fake smile she had been forced to present along with the noncommittal answers she had been pressured into contriving. She had always hated balls, she would rather be

immersed in a book and lounging comfortably in the libraryin actuality she would rather be anywhere other than here. Darian seemed to be taking the situation well into hand, wandering and conversing with longtime friends, clapping each other on the back and joking jovially. This was an environment that he was obviously comfortable in. She almost didn't recognize him as he was now. He was acting differently than he ever had with her; he had masked himself off from the people around him and was putting on a show. Seeing him as he put up this chilled front for everyone sent shivers careening down his spine and raised apprehension in her mind. He was a shell of the man she had come to know, this man was a facade. Or was the man she knew the facade? "Why are you scowling, my dear?" Darian asked, his voice whispering against her ear as he spoke. He had slipped between her and the wall, coming up to press the long length of his body against hers, placing his hand at the indent of her waist and smoothing it down over her hip. Her nerves jumped wildly at his closeness, laying her hand over his, she stopped his exploration as it left her hip to spread over her stomach. His fingers spread wide; he pulled her firmly against himself. When his wandering hands finally ceased, she tried to catch her breathnot an easy task when she could feel his every muscle, every hard inch of him against her softer frame. She melted into him and allowed her limbs to relax as she let her neck loll back to rest against his shoulder. No one could see them. They were affianced after all, and surly no one would find their actions scandalous. She sighed and let herself take comfort in his strength and the return of the charming and warm man she knew. "I was just remembering why I have always avoided events such as these." She offered. "Mmm, I believe I could arrange for us to slip away for a moment if you wish," he purred, the sound made warmth zip over her skin, a blush instantly spread over her cheeks at the thoughts that jumped to mind with his offer. "We cannot disappear without being noticed, it will all be over soon enough." She returned breathlessly. "Then you'll have to allow me the next best option, a waltz is starting, I believe you promised it to me." He stepped around her, and tugged her toward the center of the room where couples had gathered to wait for the music to start. He pulled her to him, gathered her as close as propriety would allow, and tempted her with his boyish grin.

"I believe my promise was regarding another matter altogether, Your Grace." She told him with a harrumph. "You're certain?" He queried his grin blooming into a full blown smile, spread wide with dimples deepening. The music started and she was incapable of the smart retort that had come to her tongue. He pulled her close, they were twirling and circling the room, her head spun, unable to predict their next move, she followed his lead, trusting him to take her where he would, to protect her and to guide her. He pulled her in tighter, molding them together, his strong thigh insinuated itself between her softer thighs and caused her breath to catch. Her eyes widened at the contact, her lips parted slightly on a breath, she stared up into his face, seeing her own hunger reflected there in his dark eyes for only her to see. His strong arms were the only thing keeping her upright; thankfully, they refused to allow her to melt into a puddle at his feet. The music came to an end and he slowed their bodies, bringing them to a halt. His expression told her clearly that he knew what his nearness had done to her mental abilities; the arrogance in his smile shook the fog from her brain. Clarissa quirked her brow and eyed him speculatively. "I seemed to be parched, would you mind procuring me a glass of punch, Your Grace?" His smile widened at her haughty tone; with a bow and a nod, he left to do her bidding. Clarissa turned and wandered onto the terrace just outside the ballroom. The garden was in full bloom, the warm breeze sent the exotic scents drifting toward the open doors, calling to the guests. Clarissa wandered into a shadowed area off to the side, refusing to stand and so obviously await the return of her cocksure fianc. He would have to search to find herhis just deserts in her opinion. She looked up to see Elmira glaring at her, realizing too late that she had picked the wrong hiding spot. Trying to remove herself quickly she politely nodded to the woman and backed away. "Hiding yourself away so soon, Miss Brighton, I would have thought you would be basking in your victory?" Elmira venomously spit the words at Clarissa. "I was simply looking for some breathing room, Miss Brentwood; I apologize for invading your territory." "Ohis that so? I do believe you have enjoyed encroaching on what had, until now, been mine." Elmira's features took on a fierce darkness with her venomous words.

"I had not realized there was anything here about that was belonging to you, Miss Brentwood." "Had you not? I was sure you understood Darian and I had an agreement, or should I say we have an agreement? Please do not be naive in your thinking, our relations will not cease with your marriage." Elmira smiled coldly. "My interest in him is not to obtain a husband, it never has been, and I am sure that his London ways will not be changed when he marries a simple country miss such as you." Clarissa was unable to keep the hurt from her eyes, which only seemed to encourage the spiteful viper's poisonous strike. "Darian and I have discussed the matter at length and only agreed to distance ourselves until the deed is done, then believe me, he will quickly return to my awaiting arms." Elmira's hateful eyes swung toward the garden softening slightly. "He has many wickedly pleasurable desires. Did you believe he would force them on a virginal girl of such youth? You will only be an unfortunate chore to beget a much needed heir." Elmira walked swiftly past Clarissa, stopped a few paces away then turned back to bestow her with a brilliant smile. "He will follow me back to London after you wed, leaving you here to be his country wife, packed away out of sight, and out of mind. Mark my words, Miss Brighton, he will return to me." Elmira sauntered through the ballroom and disappeared into the crush without another backwards glance. Clarissa stood still and tried to take deep breaths to calm herself, feeling her stomach sinking and tears welling at the hurt that she seemed unable to avoid where Darian was concerned. Closing her eyes, she tried to gain her composure, not wanting anyone to see her heart breaking, steps echoed on the stone, thinking it was Darian she turned only to encounter Arnold Brentwood, the Earl of Ludingtondefinitely not a welcomed sight at the moment. Lowering her eyes she avoided encouraging him to come near, hoping he would see her rejection and turn away. She was not so lucky; he walked straight to her and stopped a few paces short of being proper. "Miss Brighton, I was hoping to have a word with you." "I would rather not have those words at the moment, if you don't mind." She stated plainly, intending the words to be an insult, to scare him away. "I am sorry if this is an inopportune time, but it cannot wait another moment." He continued, refusing to leave her to her overwhelming emotions. "It has come to my attention that

you may not understand the situation that you will be entering into upon your wedding day. I feel that you have been misled by your affianced, he is not the man you believe him to be, he will not be able to give you what you need." Clarissa attempted to walk away and put an end to his unnecessary words, but he held up a hand, refusing to allow her to speak and determinedly trudged on with the insult he was adding to her injury. "I, on the other hand, am not so well titled as a duke, but my wealth is greater. As a gentleman, I am offering to lend you my services. If it is a husband you need, I would be willing to step in but only as an honor to your feminine sensibilities. I fear they will be stomped upon by such a man as you have, unfortunately, linked yourself with, and the rumors that have started, which will undoubtedly offend your good nature." Clarissa stood, mouth agape, waiting for the Earl to finally take a breath, giving her time to interject. "Sir, I would not ask you for such suffering, I am unsure at this moment what my plans will be for the future, but please do not expect me to wish you to make such a sacrifice on my behalf." She said haughtily. A silent moment passed, Arnold seemed to be weighing her words; a smile lit his face when the full meaning of her statement sunk in. "I am deeply sorry for the confusion, Miss Brighton; I'll leave you now to the gentle night you were so immersed in before I so rudely interrupted."

Chapter 8
Darian wandered, searching for Clarissa, looking over the crowd but purposefully avoiding eye contact with people who wanted to drag him into the meaningless conversations of their segregated circles. Starting to panic, unable to find her anywhere in the ballroom, he decided to search the gardens. Striding determinedly through the open doors he glanced around and took a deep breath and releasing it only when he saw her leaning against the railing, gazing out over the lush gardens. Gaining her side, he placed his palm on the ball of her shoulder, turning her easily to face him. Inhaling deeply with surprise when he saw the tears streaking down her face, her eyes glaring at him, looking coldly up to meet his. The shock to his senses and the distance in her gaze made his gut sink. He knew it was over. "Clarissa, my dear, what's wrong, what's the matter?" He tried to pull her to his chest but she batted his hands away, refusing his offer of comfort and taking a step back from him. She stood before him with a painful plea in her eyes; she watched him for a moment, trying to find the words she had gathered in her mindarranging the jumbled mess as best she could. "I know the truth, Darian; I know why you want to marry me." She told him, the hurt swimming in her eyes belied the emotionless chill to her voice. "I cannot trust you; I cannot marry such a deceitful man. I will inform Maddy that the engagement is now off. If you could be so kind as to leave here this moment, Your Grace, I will explain the matter to her." "Clarissa, please don't be rash, I have been trying to think of a way to tell you, truly, I beg of youplease wait on your decision until we can discuss" His plea was cut off by a slash of her hand; her palm colliding with his strong cheek, the blow carried a force great enough to turn his head. His surprise wore off just in time to see her marching into the ballroom, leaving him alone on the terrace. Bringing a hand to his stinging face, he flexed his jaw attempting to relieve the pain. Well that was thatand so it had always gone. The bad luck that had followed him throughout his life had struck again. How foolish to think that he could escape the curse that had fallen upon the son for the father's sins.

Felicity, having seen Darian's exit from the ballroom onto the terrace, had alerted Lily of the scene which was about to play out with a gentle nudge to her counterpart. The girls had linked arms and nonchalantly wandered toward the doorway hoping to hear their plans success. Hearing the finality of Clarissa's words brought a smile to their faces, which they were unable to hide. "I do believe we have accomplished our goal, Lily." Clarissa stormed past them, the hurt in her features unmistakable, her face streaked with shed tears, her eyes filled with tears yet to fall. She walked pointedly toward the entrance into the main part of the Hall, leaving gape-mouthed gossips in her wake. Clarissa disappeared from sight as the crowd closed in behind her, all gathering together and whispering to each other behind their hands, speculating at the dramatic set laid before them. "Yes, unfortunately, I do believe you are correct, we have definitely done it. I just hope we don't soon regret what we have done here tonight." Lily stated, sadness drenching her words, doubt clouding her mind. Darian left through the gardens, refusing to traverse the sea of people awaiting his return and ready to pounce, vultures wanting to pick him clean. He walked, quietly along the meandering paths, angry with himself, unable to comprehend what had happened. He was unsure of where she had gained the information he had so protectively guarded, which had accomplished nothing but to upturn his life, now impossible to repair. He had lost everything including his heart, with no one to blame but himself. Clarissa had every right to hate him as she must in this instant, he deserved every hostile thought her brilliant mind could conjure.

A lurking darkness smiled, a wayward beam of moonlight glinted on the depravity abound in the shifting nocturnal shadows. "This clever turn of events has played brilliantly into my hands." A warm breeze drifted sweetly across the stone terrace invaded by a stifled laugh. "It is only to your favor that this misfortune has divested you of your ill-gotten reprieve, I was altogether considering the benefits of testing your immorality, be you man or god." Sliding through the shadows into the garden, keeping light footsteps to the silent grass, a gray figure smoothly followed Darians form as he strode unseeingly, heading toward home, unknowingly watched.

The figure stopped under a large oak, completely hidden from the faint glow cast by a fat and silvery moon, having to stomp down the manic laughter which begged to break free. At last, my dreams are to be realized, you are beginning to see the futility in your position. You mistakenly thought you could escape the fate I have planned for you. Ruination is all that this miserable life holds for you now. I will make it my life's work to ensure that you never succeed in anything you attempt. You have disrupted my peace of mind, my life's goals postponed by your ignorance and now you will pay- now you will fail in all that you do, you will know my pain." Tapping a manicured finger to chin, the figure fell deep into thought while orchestrating the next score. "I will send more malefactors to your doorstep to collect on debts you can ill afford; I will continue destroying all that you have. I and, I alone, have a power you could never hold. With your desolation I will take what I deserve, what is owed, what has been decreed by the heavenly bodies above to be solely minemy reward. I will have my destiny." Turning, the figure glided unnoticed back into the glittering ballroom in search of a much beloved distraction. Returning to the place that the figure had vacated only moments ago, settling in to watch the swirl of the gowns, and listening to the tittering of the brainless debutants.

Clarissa watched Darian's form flittering in and out of the moonlight as he followed the well beaten path to Whitterly Hall. She was thankful for his quick retreat. She had tried so hard to hold tightly to the emotions that were overwhelming her sole, it was a pain that made her entire body ache. Her heart was fracturing into a million pieces, if he had pushed her just a few seconds more, said one more apology, she would have undoubtedly broken right there in front of him, shattering like a pane of leaded glass, pitiful shards settling around his feet. She had refused to believe that things were not as they truly were, unable to see the man for what she had already known him to be. She had seen his charm, she had seen the way other women responded to himshe had been blind to his faults. She had not wanted to see the man under the mask. Clarissa only hoped her reputation could hold up to the gossip that was sure to follow. This may have, well and truly, destroyed any hopes of obtaining a husbandnow or in the future. How could she have been so stupid, so naive, and so completely and utterly gullible?

Such magical things didn't happen to a girl like her, and dreams didn't always turn out the way you want them tothis was her life not a fairytale story. She walked to her bed, dropping hard into the softness, allowing herself to be enfolded; her pillow was soon soaked with the tears, which fell uncontrollably down her pale and wilting cheeks. A soft knocking sounded at the door, Lily entered when Clarissa refused to respond. Cracking the door, she peaked in and saw her sister in the glow of a single candle that had been lit near the bed; Lily saw the damage she had done to her sister. Clarissas face buried in the bedding, while sobs racked her small frame, obviously heartbroken. Lily walked soundlessly to the bed, sat gently on the edge, her own chest tightened at the pain reflected in Clarissa's eyes when she glanced up at her. Lily put her hand to her sister's face, holding her damp cheek tenderly in her palm, realizing in that moment that Clarissa had not been marrying Darian solely for the sake of needing a husband, she wholeheartedly loved himthe realization came to her all too late. She had allowed her fear to blind her to Clarissas feelings, she had let her love for Felicity fertilize the doubts in her mind until they sprouted and took over her mind like a choking weed. She had been selfish and cruel having stolen any hope of happiness from the one person who loved her more than anyone else in this existence. Clarry, Im so sorry! Tears rolled down Lilys cheeks, her words coming out in choking sobs. I never meant for this all to hurt you. Clarissa straightened, stiffening her spine, looking intently at her sister, confusion showing plainly in her features. What do you mean, Lily? She questioned. You could not have had anything to do with what has happened tonight. But I did, Clarry, I wanted to keep you from leaving me, I need you and I didnt want you to go to London, Felicity said Lily pressed her hands to her face, attempting to cover the shame that was choking her words. The once believable thoughts when spoken aloud seemed to lose all their validity. Leave youLondon, what did Felicity say? Lily, what are you about? Clarissa pulled Lilys hands down anchoring them, enclosing them in her own, chaining the girl to her while she waited for her explanation. Tell me, what have you done?

Lilys face grew pale, her body tightened with fright at Clarissas shouted words. I know about papa's will but, I, we didnt know that you truly loved Darian, we would never have interfered if we had known that it was a love match. How did you know about papa's will? I never told you what I was about. Clarissa set a hard questioning glance on the girl. We overheard you talking to Maddy. Lily ducked her head. We also learned of Darians plans when he also spoke to Maddy that very same day, we hid in the nook outside the library and overheard every word. You and Felicity? The timing of the conversation finally dawned on her, remembering Maddys encouragement regarding her dealings with Darian. It seemed Maddy was playing both sides of the fence and Clarissa wasnt sure at this point how to go about the confrontation that was due to the meddlesome woman. Yes, we knew there was something afoot, and neither you nor Darian would speak to us of the matters which were affecting all of our lives. Lily, I cannot speak freely of what is in Darians mind, but I believed such matters would only add more upset to an already troublesome situation. I was attempting to protect you. Lily listened to Clarissa wide-eyed, gauging the honesty in her explanation and seeing the truth of her words, she dropped her eyes, staring at her hands as they rested in her lap. You had no intentions of leaving me here and returning to London. She stated unable to form the words into a questionLily realized she had grossly misinterpreted the situation. Guilt was eating at her now heavy heart, if she had gone to Clarry, as she had always done in the past, matters would have perhaps been greatly different, the outcome very different from today's results. I wish I could undo what has been done; I wish I could turn back the time. Im so sorry, Clarry, you must hate me for what I have done. Ohmy dear girl, my wonderful sister, no, never think that, I should be thanking you. You have saved me; there was never an understanding between Darian and myself. I was blind to his ulterior motives; I had obtusely begun to believe we were a love match. Clarissa pulled Lily into her arms, holding the girl, rocking her in an embrace- reassuring the girl. I thought you knew of his dire straits, in truth he needs you as much as you need himhis ulterior motives are matched only by yours.

That is neither here nor there, Lily; I could never begin to trust him again, not after all that he has done, all that he has said. The irony of the situation was clearshe was being hypocritical, but she knew but her heart couldn't seem to shake the hurt, the anger. Go on to bed now, Lily, all will work out as it should, believe me, things have fallen into place just as they were meant to. Clarissa released and gently urged the girl from the room, closing the door quietly; she returned to her bed where she laid thinking on how to turn this unfortunate situation to best suit her immediate needs. She needed to spin the now widespread rumors to encourage other gentlemen to seek her out, giving her the opportunity to find a suitable husband; she refused to allow her mind to reach toward Darian as it so often preferred to do. Undoubtedly, most of the ton would believe her to be unwanted, even ruined, most would likely think her to have been thrown to the wayside by the Duke of Whitterly, it was now unlikely that she would be able to find a gentleman of merit which she was now needed more than ever. She fell into a fitful sleep, the cutting words of Elmira Brentwood echoing through her head, and unable to fight off the hurt that weighed her heart in the vulnerable state of sleep that was enclosing her mind.

Darian waited as long as he was able, until just after nine in the morning, and then he headed straight for Thornbridge Hall, hoping Clarissa had calmed enough to allow him talk to her. What he was going to say to herhe was still unsure of, but he was positive the words would come to him when the time came. Being completely honest with himself, he decided he would beg if needed. She was all that he wanted, he could not remember ever wanting anything as much as he wanted her, and he knew in his mind he would never desire anyone else as he desired Clarissa. Leaving his stallion, Deliverance, with a groom at the stables, he walked the distance to the house and tried to set straight in his mind what he needed to say. Still running the implications through his mind and preparing for every argument she could make, he trudged determinedly into the front hall where he was met by Leggars. He was quickly informed by the butler that Miss Brighton had sent a note through the staff that refused meetings with both he and Maddy, proving her anger was more vehement then he had believed. Leggars led him to Maddys sitting room instead so that Darian would be able to question the meddlesome woman. Maddy stood, holding her hands out for their usual greeting, taking her

hands in his own he squeezed lovingly and sat in the proffered chair next to hers. She returned to her seat, eyeing him questioningly she waited patiently for him to speak. Maddy, have you any idea what I should do now? From the missive I received upon arrival I deduce that you were named my coconspirator and perhaps you may have a plan ready. Darian stated with a single eyebrow quirked in humor- as much humor as could be found when your dreams had been completely and mercilessly dashed. I havent the slightest clue, my dear boy. She responded with an indignant sniff. I am at a loss at this point and time; I do believe you are now effectively cut off from Clarissa as I am in this juncture. Maddy shook her head solemnly. I am saddened to say that this will be the ruin of her chances to find a husband, she will be considered an undesirable after losing a most sought after duke such as yourselfShe will now have no way of saving her fathers title and wealth, she will lose all with this misadventure, I am terribly frightened by the prospects now left to her. With a sad sigh Maddy reached her hand down beside her chair and picked up her needle bag and extracted her latest work and pulling the needle through the material once then twice, waiting patiently for Darian to pick up on the path she was leading him down- she had always thought he was a very quick-witted man, and today he did not disappoint her. What do you mean she will lose all? I thought you had told me she was heiress to her fathers fortune? He questioned. Oh yes indeed, she isbut there are stipulations that go along with her obtaining the inheritance. She must wed with all due haste or everything will be bequeathed to The Church of England by order of Parliament. Maddy artfully glanced at Darian and tried to gauge his reaction, sure that her words would goad him into action. Do you mean to tell me she was only willing to marry me to ensure her fathers estate would stay within the confines of her family, and her fathers title would pass along to her son? Darian asked angrily. She had her own ulterior motives all along? That woman was deceiving me all alongand you knew the truth all along without telling me? Mmmwell, Im sure she had others, but that was the reasoning she had given me when she first arrived here from London. I saw that you were in no danger and her ideas did seem to benefit you most beautifully. Maddy kept her gaze glued to her needle as she spoke not wanting to give away the joy that was pressing to be released. She had known Darian long

enough to know how to spur him into action when there was a need. And there was definitely a need now. Well thats not completely true now that I think back on the matterher original plan was to use the gentlemen here about to gain the experience needed to be able to return to London and catch a proper and worthy husband. Yes indeed, thats what she said; she had given herself a few months time to put such actions to effect, six months time to be exact. Maddy hid her smile behind a small cough and returned to her needlework, ignoring the fiery rage that was consuming the man before her. With a loud huff, Darian shot from his chair, and strode through the door, out into the entry hall, letting himself out with a loud, reverberating slam of the large front door. Maddy stood and swung herself around, dancing joyfully around the room, proud of herselfthere would be absolutely no deterring Darian now that he had his mind set on a course. It would undoubtedly be a rough and arduous course, but it would eventually lead its travelers where they were destined. Darians temper was in full tilt, he was seeing red. He paced the graveled paths of the garden and wished he would come upon the source of his anger. He would definitely not pass up the chance to get his hands on the fibbing woman; he would sorely love to wring Clarissas beautiful neck at this very moment. How dare she criticize his motives when she had her own all along? His anger waned after nearly an hour of stomping and prowling through the expansive gardens, exhaustion forced him to rest at the small wooden bench near the wooden bridge, which crossed over onto his own land. Still simmering, Darian stood upon hearing small feet padding toward him, expecting to see Clarissa round the path, hopeful at coming face to face with the object of his withering rage. Lily walked slowly, watching her slippered feet as she padded along, her mind engrossed with the tribulations which had invaded her home. Catching a movement in her peripheral vision, she looked up to see Darians rock hard eyes glowering in her direction causing her to falter in her step. With a grunt he set himself back onto the bench and waved her on toward while he visibly tried to relax his features. I thought you were Clarissa. He stated plainly with more grumble then he had intended. Lily looked frightened but stiffened her spine and came to sit next to him, adjusting the skirt of

her gown. He gave her a small smile noticing her reactions were similar to Clarissas when she was unsure of the situation she was entering into. How have you been, Your Grace? She asked in a polite tone. Delightful, and how have you been, Miss Brighton? Darian responded sarcastically. I have been well, Your Grace, thank you for asking. Lily eyed him warily and waited patiently for him to return the conversation hoping he would not keep up the inconsequential chatter that the ton was prone to speak. The weather looks to hold Oh please, we both know you dont wish to speak on the weather, get on with it! She huffed loudly at him, folding her arms across her chest. Just ask me about Clarry and be done with it! How is your sister, the other Miss Brighton, Miss Brighton? He asked politely, his brow lifted in surprise at her reaction. Just as miserable as you, Your Grace. What do you plan to do about it? Miserable? He repeated with a stunned look upon his strong face. Why would Clarissa be unhappy? Perhaps she loves you but wishes she didnt due to the fact that youre a dolt who cant see what is staring you in the face. Lily stood and marched across the nearby bridge; leaving a stunned Darian sitting still and silent on the bench. Lily continued on her way as she had left the house intending to go straight to visit with Felicity and apprise her of all the happenings of the last few hours, but that was before Darian had waylaid her. Darian leapt to his feet and chased after Lily, having to run full out to catch up to the surprisingly speedy girl. Slowing his pace when he reached her side, he walked next to her, when she refused to acknowledge him he grabbed her arm and swung her around, forcing her to face him. Youre a girlwhat do you know about love? Did Clarissa say she loves me? His words came out in puffs as he tried to slow his labored breathing. I may be a girl, but I can see plainly, and you have the same look in your eyes as she did when she asked me if you had asked for her when you visited Thornbridge this morning. Lily shouted to him, yanking her arm from his grasp. Are you also going to pretend that you dont know what Im saying? She tapped her foot impatiently while she waited for his answer.

No, I dont believe that I could honestly deny something so apparent, but I also would not want such things to be spread about. He took a deep breath, contemplating his words while looked down at his booted feet as if intently inspecting his Hessians. Indeed, now that that is settledwhat do you plan to do about these matters? Darian snapped his head up, looking into the girls blue eyes, seeing wisdom he would never have expected in a girl of sixteen years. Im not sure; you wouldnt have any ideas would you? Since she detests you at this moment, hating even the sound of your name spoken aloud, I would say you have to take away her ability to refuse you. Lily stated. Since you have such poor talent in matters with women, I will give you another hint, this one regarding your dear sister. Felicity thinks you plan to leave her at Whitterly when you find a bride able to refresh your coffersyou hurt her the last time you left, I would advise you to assure her you wont be making the same mistake twice. Having said her peace, Lily walked away leaving Darian staring alone with his contemplations.

Chapter 9
Darian had waited for Lily to take her leave before he moved in to confront his sister. Felicity was tucked away in a low-lit corner of the library, engrossed in a book, her skirts spread around her while she reclined in a chase lounge. Darian padded silently toward her, intent on having a strong and pointed conversation with his sister. "I believe there have been many misunderstandings between us of lately, my dear, little sister." He stated, in a calm voice. Felicity's head snapped up at Darian's words, the subject of her remorse directly in front of her. She opened her mouth to apologize but Darian lifted a large hand stilling her words. "I am not here to argue with you, my dear. I only wish to explain a few matters that I believe you have misconstrued." Darian sat on the foot of the lounge, lowering himself to keep her from straining her neck while they spoke. "I have no intentions of leaving you, not now and not ever. You are my family; I hold that very dear to my heart, even if you do not believe that its so." He shook his head and gave a brief laugh in self-derision. "I wanted to marry ClarissahellI still want to marry Clarissa, not because I want the funds to go back to London but because I need the funds to support you and your coming out. I can't even get enough coin together to do what is needed here at Whitterly; I have nothing to offer as your dowry. You will be of age soon, you will want to find a husband and start a family of your own; you can't do that if we are poor." "Darian, why havent you confided your worries in me before?" She asked, blotting the unshed tears from her eyes. "You have hated me for so long, you were hurt so deeply by our parents death. I didn't want you to have any more worries to add to your mix." "I'm so sorry for what I have done. I didn't stop to consider that this situation was as difficult for you as it was for me." She stated. "Darian, you love her don't you?" Felicity words more a statement of fact then a question needing an answer. "Yes, Felly, I think I do." He gave her a small smile. "The trouble now is how to make her see that."

"Lily told me she hinted to you of a possible option." "What, to kidnap Clarissa?" He asked incredulously. Felicity tapped her finger against her chin; thoughts swirled through her expressive eyes. "Yes, I do believe I agree with her design." She smiled at him. "The trouble is not getting her to wed you but to gain her trust again. Marriage will give you a life time to work it all out." Darian stood, turned about the room in slow steady steps, and considered the idea. He stopped his pacing, looking back at Felicity, he nodded. "I think it may be my only choice, at least the only one with reasonable and merit." "I believe I could go stay with Maddy and Lily while you go to Gretna Green with Clarissa, and just for good measure, I believe I will stay there for a few weeks after your return. That should give you enough time to adjust yourselves." Darian strode for the door of the library, turning he stopped to look back at Felicity. "Why are you now trying to help me?" "Simple, she makes you happy and she will be good to me, like the mother I never had." Felicity smiled brightly at him. Darian expression grew sad for a moment, but he then returned her smile and set away the troubled thoughts for another time. "You've grown up right before my eyes haven't you, Felly? To think, before today, I still thought of you as a child." Darian left the room to prepare for the mission at hand.

Darian stood in the garden, surrounded by an eerie dark silence and watched the moonlight bounce off Clarissas bedroom window. He had thought long and hard on how to accomplish Lilys suggestionhe had come to only one possible plan of actionhe had no other choice but to kidnap Clarissa tonight. He knew which room was hers, he had often day dreamed about entering her room on such a night as this, but never under these circumstances. He had been waiting for hours in this very spot, watching and waiting, hoping and praying that this adventure would be as fruitful as he was imagining. She had finally blown out her candle only half an hour ago but he was determined to let another half of an hour pass before he attempted his abductionhe wanted to ensure she was asleep and less likely to fight so aggressively. He knew from experience that she was wild and much stronger than her small frame gave away.

He would never have believed that this twisted path would be where his life would lead him. Years ago he had been known to crawl through a window or two, but purely for the excitement, and the women were always willing and expectant. He was now prepared to sneak into a womans bedroom solely for the purpose taking her away, ruining her reputation, and forcing her to elope with him, tying her to himself for eternity. He hoped that he would be able to convince her along the way to go with him of her own volitionnot likely to happen but a man was allowed to dream. He had told no one of tentative plan but had left a missive for Maddy to explain his designs, which if Maddy was true to her routine would be found after midday on the marrowby then it would be too late for anyone to come after them if they so desired. Deciding it was time to proceed with his capture, he moved forward. Darian looked over his shoulder one last time to ensure that Deliverance and Dandelion were still tied securely to the stately oak behind him. Ascertaining that all was in order, he started toward the steps that led to the terrace outside Clarissas bedroom.

Clarissa sat cuddled into an overstuffed chair next to the fire, her book long forgotten now resting in her lap. Her wandering mind had made it impossible to follow the story line after no more than a few pages; she had eventually given up and allowed her mind to picture Darian. Encouraging the memories of their past encounters to drift through her mind, she refused to remember the heartbreak that had quickly followed suit. She had weighed his actions in her mind and had difficulty convicting him of wrong doing when technically his wrongs had been the same as her own if only slightly varied in the specifics. Even knowing that he had done the same as she had she couldnt stop her heart from feeling the pain he had caused. She had lead her heart to believe he had wanted her, that he was growing to love herand worst of all, she had felt her own feelings growing and strengthening toward him. Clarissa realized that it only hurt so much because she had let her mind erase the circumstances of her own troubles, thinking them inconsequential when they were entering into a marriage based on love and affection. Her tears had long since dried; she was exhausted but unable to sleep. She had spent the entirety of the day locked in her room, refusing all visitors except her sister. Lily had dutifully brought her meals to her room, encouraging Clarissa to speak with Darian when she had inquired about his morning visit with Maddy. Clarissa had refused, stating that she never want to see him

again but Lily had seen through her ploy and informed her that her love for him was written on her face and heard in her words. Lily was far too observant for her own good. Clarissa felt her body drained of all energy, closing her heavy eyes she fell into a deep sleep, warm and comfortable as she lounged by the fire in her room.

Clarissa slept dreamlessly and at peace only to be awoken hours later by a gentle rocking and the familiar whinny of her mare, the sun edging from behind the horizon, dawn just breaking. Jerking herself upright she found herself surrounded by thick woods, her body supported by a tanned muscular arm wrapped around her middle as it held her against a strong hard chest scented with a clean woodsy scent that drifted about herall just as familiar to her as her own horse. Rubbing her eyes she cleared her vision hoping to find herself in a dream but instead she found herself in the arms of a man she was trying her best to be angry with. Your Grace, would you care to explain why we are traveling at night, on your horse, through the woods, when I know I fell asleep in my room, curled up with a book? Clarissa asked haughtily. Mmmyes, its due most likely due to the fact that I seem to have kidnapped you, my dear. Darian stated with a rumble of laughter in his words. How did you know it was I who held you? Um Unsure if she wanted to reveal how aware of him she was, she hesitated. Your soap, the scent, its familiar. She answered unable to lie, but unwilling to tell him the full truth. His bark of laughter made her jump; she would have fallen from the stallion if he had not been holding her so closely to his own body. She wiggled trying to gain some space between his chest and her back. Ive got you Clarry, you wont fall, but please stop fidgeting so much or you will find something about me that is also very familiar to you. Feeling the hardening subject rubbing against her rear she immediately ceased her movements, holding herself completely still, she attempted to keep her breathing even. She felt her body heated, burning, her breast tightened, swelling instinctively with the passion the mere sound of his voice evoked. Trying to ignore her bodys reaction she attempted to comprehend what was happening. Would you mind telling me why you have kidnapped me, Darian? I was wondering when you would get around to saying my name in that haughty little tone of yours. He lowered his mouth against her ear, speaking huskily, his warm breath sent shivers

skating down his spine. I love when you say my name, but I really love when you call me Your Grace in that sweet but indignant tone you so often use with me when you're trying to put me in my place. Unable to deny the heat between them, she tilted her head slightly and allowed his seeking mouth access to her neck. His warm lips brushed across her skin, his tongue flicking against her pulse, sucking quickly, hard, dragging his teeth across the sensitized skin and causing her body to be racked with shudders that extracted a moan from her. Just as quickly as he had started, he stopped, pulled away from her, set her forward and put distance between them, tearing away the heat she had come to crave, making her feel cold. Darian? We need to put you on your mare now that youre awake, and we definitely need to get you off my lap before things go too far. I don't intend to rush things; I have far better plans for us. What plans? Were getting married, Clarry. What do you mean were getting married? She shouted. and you are not allowed to call me Clarry, only my family calls me that. Hysterics making her voice rise. We are going to be family, and we are getting married. Were on our way to Gretna Greene; well be there the day after next, He stated matter-of-factly. Darian halted the stallion, slid gracefully to the ground still holding the reins while he led Deliverance to a nearby tree and tied the reins off to a sturdy branch. Clarissa shook her head in denial. No, we cant get married; you dont want to marry me! Her voice becoming higher in pitch and starting to waver with emotion as tears filled her soft blue eyes. Darian lifted her down, set her feet to the earth and steadied her when her legs wobbled. Clarry, you dont have a choice, youre ruined now, even if I never touch you, and no matter what you think, I absolutely do want to marry you. Pulling her close he tucked her head under his chin and rocked her gently, calming her, encouraging her tears to pass. He pushed her back from him when she had settled, when her body had relaxed and her muscles had softened. He could feel the intentions of their embrace start to change, comfort being slowly replaced by a sizzling awareness, his body begging for hers. Youre mine, you have been since that first day in the garden, theres no one else Id rather marry. His voice was steady, his eyes direct as he had spoken the words. The depth of his

emotions shone brightly in his eyes and overwhelmed her mind, stilling any words that she had wanted to speak. He gently wiped away the tears that had stained her soft cheeks and kissed her softly with a simple brush of his lips on hers. Lifting her again he set her on Dandelion, pulling a silk scarf from his saddlebag he wrapped it around her wrists, and tied her securely to the saddle horn. Darian remounted and urged his stallion forward, Dandelion followed close behind, connected to his own saddle by a short rope. Moving on through the forest they both remained quiet, each engrossed in their own thoughts. Darian rode silently, his mind remembering his entrance into Clarissa's room. He had found her sunk into a chair large enough to fit them both comfortably. She had been sleeping soundly, which had made her capture easier than he had thought it would have been. Her cheek had been pillowed on her hand, her book had fallen to the floor, her face rosy from the heat of the fire, her hair loose and liberated from its usual constraintsand thank heavens for small miracles, she had still been wearing the gown she had donned for the day. He had not been prepared for the possibility of her being dressed in her night shift, he was glad of being able to avoid the torture that would have brought to him. She had been so peaceful he had almost reconsidered, contemplating turning and leaving her to her dreams, but his bodys response to her had reminded him of the importance of taking her with him. He had picked her up easily, cradled her, carried her still sleeping form to the horses, and put her in his lap trying hard not to wake her. She had sighed contentedly once but didn't stir again. He had rode for hours with her warm and soft in his arms, tucked against his chest, her rear riding across his thighs, the scent of lavender filling his mind and enclosing his senses in her essence, he rode and simply enjoying her nearness. He had never felt so at ease as he had when she was there held against him, in his arms. Having now released her, it hit him that until that reluctant moment when he had put her onto her own horse, he had never felt so cold and bereft. Turning to look at Clarissa he studied her face, wondering what was going through her clever mind, he wondered if she was by chance constructing a detailed plan of escape. Wiggling, Clarissa tried to adjust her seat, tried to give herself more purchase in the saddle, she twisted her silk wrapped wrists trying to loosen her soft bindings. Sliding a glance at Darian she saw him watching her and trained her eyes back onto their path. Stiffening her spine, she hoped her body language would tell him of her dislike of his manipulations. She needed to tell

him somehow because obviously her self-control was not as strong as she had once believedif her acceptance of his kisses were anything to go by. Up until this moment, she had not demanded that he return her to Thornbridge, nor had she refuted his unvoiced assurance that she would agree to his plans. She needed to find the strength to resist him despite the pull of her body and the desperation of her situation. Marrying Darian would indeed remove the threat to her family but at what cost to her heart? She had dreamed of marrying this man only yesterday, now today she wished to never see him again, she hoped to put an end to the ache that had settled so deeply in her chest. Clarissa had to be honest at least within her own mind, she had not struggled or fought for her freedom simply because she loved Darian, she wanted to marry him; she didnt what his reasons for wanting her werehopefully she wouldnt find her unwavering heart regretting its surrender. She may have to give in but that didn't mean she had to make it easy for him. She would just have to turn this in her favor. Perhaps if she put up enough road blocks in his path to the alter he would trip up and allow her into his mindletting her see the man she had glimpsed briefly the day he had taken her to his enchanted clearing. If she was going to succeed, it was going to be essential for her to get close to him, which would be an easy chore except that he had made it completely clear that he wished to keep his distance until they were wed. That just would not do, she wanted to break into his heart, into his sole and the only instances she had come close to that connection was when he was controlled by their combined passion. His only vulnerability came when he couldn't fight the desire that burned between themshe had no choice, she was going to have to torture the poor manand possibly herself in the process. Hiding her smile from his knowing eyes, she watched the forest and all it held as it passed by. They had a long ride ahead of them, it was surly going to be a tough battle, and now was as good a time as any to get started. "Darian, you said we'd be there the day after next?" "Yes, with good speed, and if the weather holds, which I believe it will." He told her with a suspicious glance in her direction at her lack of argument. "How do you intend to force me to say the vows required for us to wed?" She asked making sure her eyes were filled with venom she didn't truly feel. "You, of course, have the option of refusing me once we are standing before the priest and speaking our vows, but please do remember you will be a ruined woman after the world finds

you have spent two days on the road, traveling alone with me, not to mention the two cold, dark nights we will have endured together." Arrogance of his victory colored his words. "Oh, and let us not forget that also means you will lose all hopes of finding your London dandy, which means you will undoubtedly lose everything else." He moved his horse closer to her, matching their speeds, guiding Deliverance with a nudge of his knees. Clarissa looked at him disbelievingly, her eyes wide, her mouth agape. "You know nothing of my plans, and that is no choice at all, and you know it? I cant believe you would ruin everything for me just to be able to say you were right." "I know more than you think, my dear. I know of your ulterior motives, and at this point I am not feeling very gracious and giving toward you." Raising his hand slowly he brushed at the curtain of her curls, tucking them behind her ear, inadvertently caressing her lobe as he pulled his hand back. "You have given me no choiceits me or nothing at all." "Humph, how could you know anything? Dont tell me it was Maddy?" She spoke the name of her betrayer not as a question but a statement, her compunction making her unable to meet his eyes. She had lied to him, intending to use him, just as he said; she was just as wrong as he had been. Realization struck her, she was positive that she didnt know the full truth of his ulterior motives. It was time for a little investigation. "I should have explained my plight from the beginning, perhaps it could have saved us both from the disaster you have marched us into. Your deceits would have been as unnecessary as my own." She eyed him stonily and dared him to deny her words. "I can do nothing but agree but I still wonder how you discovered my motives." He waited for her answer, a plea for honesty in his eyes. "Miss Brentwood took great pleasure in informing me." She explained, hurt apparent in her soft eyes. "She made it clear that you were lovers." "I'm sorry her words hurt you but I cannot deny her words." Darian looked away trying to puzzle out how his financial downfall had been discovered. His mind was so entangled in his own worries that he failed to understand Clarissa's misinterpretation of the singular, never repeated, relation he had had with the selfish and spoiled Elmira Brentwood years ago. Clarissa watched his features tighten and become strictly controlled; unfortunately, his reaction silently confirmed Elmira's expectations of their relationship. He once again closed himself off from her, pulling his thought tight, not willing to share anything with her. Doubts

about her plan were starting to entrench themselves in her mind, taking her hopes and crushing them. She now realized that Darian did plan to renew his affair with Elmira and would expect her to be an unseen country wifean unwanted and discontented wife in her opinion. Clarissa was unable to stop the tears that flooded her eyes, she turned and pretended to watch the scenery pass, determined not to allow him to see her anguishshe was sure if he listened carefully he would hear her heart shattering once again at his unkindness.

Clarissa had tried to ignore Darian's presence over the last hours, protecting her vulnerable state with indignant responses only when absolutely necessary. She needed time to decide if her life's happiness was worth the gain of marrying himsoon coming to the conclusion that she would do anything, suffer anything if it meant that Lily was safe and secure. She had consoled herself with the notion that he would undoubtedly leave for London to pick up his life where he had left it, and she would still have a home and her sister. His consequential return would depend on the number of children he wished her to bare; she would have to pray that their coupling would quickly give fruit, letting him leave her in peace. They had been traveling for more than a full day when he informed her of his wish to stop at an Inn just ahead, happy for the much needed respite from the dusty road, she did not argue. Instead she went back, once again, to hide within her own mind, protecting her heart and removing her emotions from any further connections between them. She would freely give him her hand and her body but she refused to let him possess her sole. Darian watched Clarissa, with worry; she had become despondent since their last conversation. He had gone over the words that had been spoken, time and time again, but unable to pinpoint any specific trigger for her frigid demeanor. The person riding next to him was now unresponsive and emotionless, essentially void of everything that had been his Clarissa. He didn't want to live his life loving a shell of the person he had fallen in love with, he never thought this escapade would break the spirit he so enjoyed. He wanted her desperately but he had to ask himself what cost he would be willing to pay to have her as his and his alone. He heard her sigh of relief upon entering the courtyard of the Red Rooster Inn sometime near dusk, he berated himself for pushing her so hard, for allowing his impatience to urge him to set such a hurried pace. He hoped that her disquieted mood was due to fatigue, he couldn't bear to contemplate any other possibilities.

The Inn was nowhere near being the luxurious accommodations she deserved, but would suit their purpose just fine. The horses needed fed and rested as much as they themselves did. Dismounting, he rounded Dandelion and pulled Clarissa from her seat atop the horse, bringing her to the ground. Her legs shook from disuse; she gripped his arms tightly to hold herself upright, keeping her legs from buckling, keeping herself from dropping to his feet. Cursing under his breath, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side, supporting her lithe frame. The scorching heat between them ignited immediately forcing him to grit his teeth, pulling himself back under control.

Chapter 10
Darian requested the best room the Red Rooster had to offer and a hot bath, registering them as The Duke and Duchess of Whitterly. They were quickly ushered above stairs and efficiently settled into their room, which was a decently sized space containing very little besides an overlarge bed centered to the wall opposite the door. Clarissa stood near the door, nodding demurely to the clerk as he exited the room. "Darian, where do you intend to sleep, there is only one bed?" Her voice quavered with anxiety. "I will not be leaving your side ever again Clarry." He watched understanding cross her face; she stood frozen to the spot as she digested the meaning lying below his words. Quirking a brow he waited a second for her snappy retort but when it didn't come he decided that it was more important that she rested then continuing to push an argument. He walked determinedly toward her and stopped only inches from her, sweeping her into his arms, he marched the few paces to the bed, laid her down on the cool and crisply clean beddinghis hard look put aside any complaints she wished to verbalize. He sat on the edge of the bed near her hip and brushed her hair back from her face. His palms were warm and slightly rough from work, sending shivers across her skin, tightening her muscles momentarily. He sat looking at her intently until the repetitive motion of his hand in her hair made her eyelids heavy, sad blue-violet eyes hidden behind lids drooping of their own accord, she fell asleep.

Clarissa awoke, coming to consciousness slowly; she stretched feeling warm and rested, extending her arms above her head. Without opening her eyes she sighed deeply, a smile spread across her face but quickly dropped when she remembered where she was, remembering who she was withand most importantly, remembering where they were headed. Her eyes snapped open only to find the handsome face of her captor directly before her; he was awake, dark eyes filled with quiet humor watched her in turn, a small tilted smile on his full lips, deep dimples indenting his unshaven cheeks.

"It is most arousing to watch you come awake, you make a sensual little humming sigh as your entire body starts to come alive." He said. "It was the same when you woke yesterday while we were riding." "I do not." Clarissa insisted a blush turning her creamy complexion to a heated shade of pink. She pulled the sheet to her neck, debating if she should stay put or if she should bolt for the doorthe last option thrown out by the knowledge of his speed and strength. "I want to see you wake every morning, I want to be there when your body returns your mind to this worldreturns you to me." His smile slipped and was replaced with a tightly controlled strain that overtook his entire frame, emitting a burning heat which flowed into her bones, setting her ablaze in turn. "Must you say such things?" She asked bringing her hands to her face attempting to cool her hot cheeks. "Yes, I must Clarry." He said while pulling her hands up, trapping them above her head as he held them in one hand and rolled his body atop hers, effectively pinning her, sinking with her into the soft bed. He lowered his head; his eyes remained open and affixed to hers until their lips met. Keeping the kiss light, he brushed his lips repeatedly over hers, warming them until she had no choice but to respond, her body arched and put them in complete contact from their mouths to their feet. The feeling made her gasp as she realized she was wearing only her chemise and he wearing nothing at all. How had she gotten here in a bed, undressed, and laying, her body entangled with Darians? Clarissa's senses were spinning out of control refusing to allow her mind to regain any semblance of order. She was having difficulties holding tight to the questions in her mindshe couldn't remember undressing and could only reach one conclusionhe must have undressed her while she slept. The loss of the barrier made uncertainty surface only to be pushed back down seconds later when he deepened the kiss. She followed his lead but was unprepared for the burst of emotion their passion drug from her, pulling feelings she had thought she had buried. She had convinced herself that she would be able to protect that part of herself that was most susceptible. She imagined she had the willpower to distance all when the impassioned tides threatened to sweep her awayshe had been completely and utterly wrong. The force that pulled them together was much too strong,

much too powerful for her to avoid. Her soul was undeniably moved by the intensity of the storm that was their rapture. He released her hands to drag his fingertips along her wrists in a steady path to the inside of her elbow where he drew small circles on the sensitive skin, burning her flesh with his touch. Darian stopped the small torment only to glide his strong touch to her shoulders, encouraging her to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling them ever closer together, closing the infinitesimal space that was left between them. She felt her limbs moving, arms and legs clutched of their own volition; she was unable to stop her limbs from reaching for him, locking them together. His hands in return were everywhere, they smoothed over her hip, gripped the globes of her bottom, surrounded her breasts with his palms, leaving her flesh trembling and quivering in their wakeleaving her breathless. Taking her mouth, his tongue tasted hers, thrusting and retreating over and over again, releasing her senses only to trap them again. They took their breath from each other, sharing the much needed air as they refused to part. Locked together, there were no thoughts beyond the bed where they lay entwined, the feel of his rougher thighs abrading her smoother ones, his muscled chest rasping her tight and swollen breasts, making nothing else matter, no one else existing. Darian pushed on, taking her deeper then pulling back and allowing her to find her wits, only to take them away again. His hard, powerful thighs spread her softer ones, setting his hips against hers, letting her feel his hardness pressing against her core. Darian tried to take a breath, his body bevvied with fervor and refused to be denied the honey sweetness of her mouth. His passion, unrelenting in its demands, took his control and rendered his mind to a mere passenger on this jolting endeavor. Rolling he took her slack-muscled body with him, resulting in her body spread liquescent atop his solid frame, never breaking the connection of their ardor. Instinctively, Clarissa sat, tucking her knees against his flanks, lowering her hands to his chest, drawing her fingers through the dark curls springing at her touch. Her glossed eyes, wide and bright, shot to his questioningly. Darian? Her breathless voice was soft and husky to her own ears, she was unsure of where they were going, but absolute in the knowledge that neither had the ability to stop their journey.

Clarry, take your chemise off. His voice was gravelly with arousal, his words more a demand then a request. I dont think I can. She said, her voice shaking with virginal unease. Raise your arms. He smiled at her softly. She held her breath tightly as he tugged, drawing the chemise up and over her head, removing the hated material that was hiding her creamy skin from his eyes. His mouth dried at the vision of her completely naked and sitting astride his thighs, his manhood, hard and throbbing as it rubbed against her inner thigh. His dreams replicated by their position. Clarissa watched as he tossed the impeding clothing aside, watched as it dropped with a sigh, pooling on the floor next to the bed, turning anxious eyes back to Darian, his face stone-like as he devoured her with his eyes. He caught her hands and entwined their fingers when she tried to cover her breasts. I need to see youall of you, you are beautiful. Releasing her, raising his hand, he wrapped it around the back of her neck, spreading his fingers into her hair, tugging gently at the long dark locks as he brought her lips toward his, only speaking when they were a breath apart. Its just you and me here, nothing and no one else. Kissing her hard and deeply, his hand drug a fiery path down her spine as he followed her gentle curves with his palm, smoothing her flesh until he reached her rear, each hand cupped and then smoothed down her hips and along her outer thighs. Darian pulled himself up, simultaneously sitting and wrapping her long and gently muscled legs around his waist, pulling their torsos together while she sat exposed in his lap. Taking advantage of their position, he tongued her tight nipple then sucked gently, pulling a breathless moan from her. Her back arched, bringing her aching breasts closer to his tormenting attentions, which in turn made her spear her hands into his silky dark hair for support. He continued his attentions upon her breasts with mind altering intensity while moving his palm over her thighs, moving his touch toward the heat of her core, his whole being begged for her loving burn to ignite them both into a blazing inferno. Never before had he wanted anything as much as he was wanting at this moment, he craved the connection of their bodies as he had never know it was possible to crave. Not one woman had ever taken his free will from him as Clarissa had done without even trying; his mind and body were focused solely on her, making him unable to draw himself back.

Clarissa gasped then moaned as he touched her so intimately, the sound vibrated through him, encouraging him to deepen the caress between her legs. Her body rocked and undulated with the movement of his fingers as they circled the sensitive nub at her center. Her cries of passion drove him; he slid his searching fingers, pushing one deeply within her tight sheath, almost losing himself with the damp constriction that he found within her. An incomprehensible pressure was building inside her, taking her breath, leaving her shaking and quivering with something she had never experienced before. Her skin was dewed, her muscles weakened, her mind overwhelmed, she felt as if she was floating on a cloud, drifting in a torrent wind. Unable to get her mental footing, she held on to Darian, gripping tightly to his hard body, which was her only source of protection at the moment. Darian was moving his hand between her thighs in small stokes, entering her and retreating in rhythm while still suckling and trailing hot open mouthed kisses around the tightened peaks of her breasts. She could hear her own cries and pleas as the pleasure became so intense it was near pain, ripping a plea from her lungs as she unknowingly neared the pinnacle of rapture. Darian, please! He looked up at her face upon hearing her words, her voice was husky in its breathy implore, her face open and unprotected with desire, her body begged for a release her mind had no idea existed. He continued his enticements, wallowing in the ambrosia that was her unrestrained gluttony for his mastery of her body. He drove her on then eased her back from the brink, over and over again, refusing to allow her to catch her breath; he enclosed her in feeling and emotion that overwhelmed all of her senses. His own body, feeling the strain of being denied, was near eruption; he withdrew his hand, urged her to her knees above him, and guided her over his hard shaft. Clamping tight, attempting to control the shaking of his muscles, he pushed the tip of his manhood into her wet entrance, taking all his strength, going slowly, allowing her body to adjust little by little to the sweet intrusion. He could hear her panting breath stop, trapped in her lungs as he hit her barrier, pushing his hips up while simultaneously pulling her downward onto himself he broke through, holding her still when her entire body clenched in pain. Clarrylook at me love. He begged of her. Tears filled her eyes making them glitter like deep blue pools. Youre hurting me.

I know Clarry, Im sorry, just hold still for a moment and it will ease, I Her tears were nearly his undoing; he had barley been able to catch himself as he had almost pronounced his love for her. It was too soon, it would only serve to push her away; he needed to give her time to see him for the man he was, time to come to know her own heart as he did his own. He pulled her mouth to his, kissed her deeply, and moved his hands over her back and hips before palming her breasts, feeling the tension slowly left her frame. He released his breath in a sigh that he hadnt known he had been holding, and gently lifted her; her warmth enclosed him, the muscles in her legs gained strength; she followed his lead and helped him to lift her. He gripped her hips stopping her ascension and brought her back down onto his erection, holding his breath, he prayed the pain had gone and hoped she would not refuse him. Clarissa could feel him filling her, a fullness that she hadn't known existed, a feeling of right, of being whole, not just as herself but as a conception of two where it would be broken without him specifically. She couldn't pull her eyes from his, their connection was more than just physical, their link far beyond any means of measurement. His dark gaze on her so intently, in normal circumstances, would have made her self-conscious but at this moment it made her feel protected, cared forher heart screamed the word love to describe their bond, but her mind adamantly refused to accept such thoughts, such foolishness. Clarissa, in that moment, allowed her mind to let go, following him to a goal she couldn't seem to attain, matching him, meeting him, experiencing, learning, giving and receiving all that he would gift her with. His movements became more forceful, more determined, his open mouth ran along the column of her neck, sucking gently at the sensitized skin below her ear. Her inhibitions slid away and let her body and mind be swept away by the kindling passion that was threatening to ignite them, her body aflame, her senses filled with a rush of unadulterated rapture. Darian stroked her deliberately sending heat coursing through her veins, under her skin, her nerves tightened under his hands, his fingers flexing, gripping the globes of her rear, he thrust deeply, sending her spinning, turning her into a wanton. Allowing her to take control without giving up his own, he let her lead but brought her easily back when she strayed unknowingly lost in the rhythm, he lifted her up or pulled her back down when she was lost in the burning heat that was engulfing them. The need to go faster, harder, further drove her, unable to stop herself, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders,

pulled his head to her breasts and clung to him for fear of losing her sanity to the carnal need filling her soul. Darian heard her sobs, her cries of pleasure, she was beyond arousal; she had lost herself to the passion, losing all except the heavenly torturous need for achieving a releaseone she most likely didn't understand was bearing down on her. He wanted to give it to her, needed to watch and feel it as she exploded around him, as she took him with her. He fell backwards, taking her with him, flipping her under him as he went. He stared down at her, joyous in the timing, giving thanks to the sunlight streaming in through the window, laying her out for him to see. Her legs still wrapped around his waist deepened their embrace, taking his breath. He held her gaze, as his hips began thrusting, once, twice; he buried himself deep inside her. Her body was white hot and gripping him, she shattered, her hot core clamped around him as she erupted, shredding his control, loosening the little bit of control he still held. The sound of their enjoyment filled the room, deep groans mingled with higher pitched moans. Their bodies adrift as one, floated to another plane of existence in the aftermath of their passion. Darian rolled, taking his weight from her, lying on his back, tucking her limp frame to his side. He sealed her body against his own, wrapping her in his arms while she rested her cheek on his hard chest and listened to his steady but still speeding heartbeat. He lay silent, his forearm stretched over his eyes, thinking, thoughts running, tripping through his mind. He was attempting to put it all into perspective, but couldn't, he felt out of kilter, unsure of what it all meantknowing only that he would never be able to let her gonot ever. Surrounded by serenity, she laid relaxed as never before, her limbs useless, her body swimming, overloaded with sensations that were still twinkling through her, her bones seemingly dissolved. She realized at this moment what had been between her parents, what had brought them together, what they had found in their marriagewhat may destroy the little happiness she may have been able to find in her marriage to Darian. He must never know the depth of her love; she would have to secret away all that could betray her, except here in his arms. Clarissa knew she would have to hold tight to these moments and hope that she could fortify herself enough to keep him from taking it all from her when he left to return to his London life. It was only a matter of time before he left, but at least she would

still have this, she'd still have herself, her pride. The possibility struck her that he may leave more with her then he had intendedperhaps he had already planted his much needed heir. "Clarry there's no other option for you now." He said in a whisper, breaking into her thoughts so quietly she could not gain anything from the tone of his voice. "What happened here will not leave me without a choice; I can take a lover without marrying." She stated, putting as much frost as she could into her words. "You have to marry me, I took your innocence. Truth be told, I believe you handed it to me on a proverbial silver platter, my dear." He growled, the idea of her refusing him making his words rough. "Youyoubounder! You seduced me! There is no other way to describe such matters!" She sat, jerking the sheet with her, covering her nakedness. "You knew I was innocent with such matters of passion. You intended to entice me, using the lust that has been growing between us since we first met. You intended all this." She threw her arms wide, gesturing to the rumpled beddropping the sheet in the process, the thin barrier forgotten in her anger. "You embarked upon this endeavor solely intending to deny me of a choice; you knew I would not forsake my family." His heart slammed in his chest, her revealed flesh causing his heart to trip but not enough to take away from the truth of her words. She was righthe had kidnapped her from the sanctuary of her bedroom to knowingly destroy the reputation of a well-bred lady of stature, putting her into a situation where even the King himself would insist they marry. "Yesbut I never meant to hurt you. Im sorry. I" He stood, facing away from her while he tugged on his clothes and walked to the door, shutting it behind him. Leaving her, refusing to say the words his heart was begging to give. The quiet sound of the latch echoing through the room mixed with the guilt pouring from his words drowned her heart. That was the second time he had been about to tell her something but had held back, she was baffled, at times he was kind and then others he was distant and cold she had to wonder which was the true Darian. Clarissa laid back, snuggling into the bed sleepily, drifting, remembering the feel of his hands on her skin, gliding, smoothing over places she didn't even know she had wanted to be touched. Knowing herself well, she saw that her arguments were for pride's sake and had no weight. She had been out of options long before he had stolen her awayshe needed him now

more than ever just as he needed her, neither had any other way to turn. This was it, the only possibility for their futures alone and together. Now she had nothing to do but pray hed return to her, his words gave her hope that their marriage wouldn't be a complete failure, he was not a man without conscious as she had once believedeven so, her vulnerable heart was far too precious to trust in his hands. Rolling on her side, she yawned, her anger fading, she tucked a pillow to her stomach as she fell asleep, she dreamt of the touch of her lover's strong hands.

Chapter 11
Darian entered the room that he and Clarissa had shared intimately just an hour before, his breath caught at the sight of her sleeping soundly. She lay prone on the bed, her creamy skin still bare; her body lay lax and sated, her rosy cheek pillowed on her hand, and her full pink lips pursed with the vibrating hum of her breathing. Her beauty rivaled that of Aphrodite, her angelic face, her perfect figure with long graceful limbs. In his opinion, she was exquisite, she was an innocenthe would never be able to take that from her. His body shook with the curbed need to kiss her awake, to feel of her body coming to life under his hands, hearing the sound of her endearing hum as she stirred. Darian shook his head at the ridiculousness of what had become his fate, he wanted, nay, craved a woman who wanted only to be his mistress. The women he had spent time with in the past had always pushed, asking more of him then he was capable of giving, becoming hurt when he had denied them apparently the tides had turned, he was now getting his due. Darian drew a chair up to the side of the bed and decided to add torment to punishment, sitting, gazing upon his reluctantly betrothed. Reclining, he tried to envisage a way of rectifying the disaster he had immersed them into. He understood pride as well as any other; he had hurt hers when he had taken away her free will and stolen away her independence. Darian had spent the past hour wandering aimlessly through the small town surrounding the Inn, providently scrutinizing the happenings over the last fateful fortnight. He had all but given up, and then Clarissa had walked into his life, stealing his heart. She had bolstered his hopes, his dreams, giving him back what he had lostletting her go, letting her slip through his hands was no longer an option in his mind. He would have to revisit his prior plan, at this point he would need to do all in his power to endear her to him, to make her love him. They would have to continue on to Gretna Green then when they returned to Whitterly Hall he could show her the life they could have. Decided, he stood and walked to the window, opening the drapes and flooding the room with bright, warm sunlight. Clarissa blinked, stretched, lifting her arms above her head giving

him a view of the crescents of her full breasts pressed into the mattress. A smile widened her mouth as she stirred, her eyes still refusing to open, her back arching, lifting her well-formed

bottom, she purred with pleasure. The way she came awake aroused him to the point of excruciating pain, leaving him hungry for just one more taste of her, his desires clamored to be assuaged, the need controlled his entire being. Darian had to turn away from her, hiding his obvious needs, coughing quietly, masking a frustrated groan. We need to keep moving. Her smile fled with his statement, her eyes opened wide as his statement jolted her from her slumberous state. Oh, how long have I been asleep? She asked him, unaware of her nakedness. Darian turned toward her, unable to deny himself one final perusal of her shapely delights. An hour or so, would you care for something to eat before we head out? When she nodded he went to the door, his hand on the knob he turned back to her. Ive asked for a bath to be brought up since you missed the one arranged for you last night. He smiled brightly at the predicament she hadnt realized she was in; she lay curled on her side, her head pillowed by her arm. Her eyes closed, she drifted back to sleep, his eyes were filled with the sight of her unknowingly exposed beauty. UmClarry" He hesitated. "I would not complain normally butyou might want to cover yourself before they bring in the water for you bath. He opened the door quickly closing it behind him just before, what he assumed was a pillow, mutedly thumped against the other side, followed by a deafening screech. Chuckling to himself he trotted down the stairs, gaining the attentions of the clerk he asked for a veritable feast to be sent up to Clarissa. His plans had come to him while he watched her awaken, what she needed was plain to him now, he was going to treat her like the goddess he saw her as, getting to know her and doting his attentions on hercourting her as she deserved. He could do anything he set his mind to, he had done so time and time again when faced with difficulties in the past and he would do so again he had to. His plan couldn't fail him, he just needed to implore upon his youthful training, using the proper deportment befitting the seduction of a dukes daughter. His mind secure in his triumph he strutted out of the Inn, requesting the preparation of their horsesif they left within the next hour they would reach Gretna Green by nightfall, which would leave them sufficient time to enjoy their wedding night.

Outside the farriers stables, Clarissa sat prideful atop Dandelion, awaiting Darian's return saying her wedding vows; being married while surrounded by horses waiting to be shod was not how she had imagined this wondrous day. Her day had gone from bad to worse. First waking to realize she had left herself physically and emotionally wide open for Darians scrutiny and secondly, being informed that their nuptials were to be performed by a man more experienced in the dealings of horse manure. The only favorable part of this day was that it would likely be a speedy ceremony, putting an end to it allallowing them to go home, returning to some semblance of their lives. Her dealings with Darian this morning had left her seething, she had spent the entirety of her bath cursing the abhorrent behavior of her cad of a fianc, sending subservient little maids skittering from the roomhe had enjoyed her humiliation, her pride wouldnt allow her to countenance his callous actions. Darian strutted toward her, stopping only to swing her down from her mount, taking her hand, dragging her unceremoniously through the large double doors into the stable, unaware of her displeasure. All is settled, we are to be wed immediately, the witnesses have been arranged, he has mucking to do so this will not take too much time and well be on our way with all due haste. Clarissas only response was a deep scowl wrinkling her brow as he tugged her along, her at a near run trying to keep up. The skirt of her gown twisted around her legs and almost succeeded in tripping her up as she tried to keep pace with the harried speed of his long legs. He seemed to contrive great delight from it all, an open smile adorning his face, dimples deep and boyishly genuine gracing his whiskered cheekshe seemed to actually want this matrimonial disaster. He was oblivious to her disgruntled state. She on the other hand was equally divided between wanting, needing the security of her and her sisters futures and feeling as if she was being led to the gallows to attend her own impending death. He was true to his words, the ceremony took only minutes, and before she knew what was happening, he planted his mouth on hers and took the kiss she had been prepared to deny him. His lips teased a response from her, her arms reached for the support of his sturdy shoulders of their own volition. Her fingers speared through the dark waves of hair at the back of his scalp, hands clenching, gripping onto him for balance as her brain started to swim in the heat of their passion.

Darian lifted her into his strong arms, cradled her, smothered her gasp with his mouth, and refused to release her. He carted her hurriedly across the dusty road and into a dilapidated inn across the way from the stables. Racing through the entryway he jostled her up a crooked set of stairs, striding determinedly to the very top floor where he swung a door open to his left and sidled into a quaint little room. Clarissa gazed up at him as he finally broke the kiss. His face held a smile befitting a buccaneer gaining his plunder, he dropped her rakishly onto the bed, her body bouncing up to meet his as he lowered himself and joined her, covering her completely. Do you know what the best part of getting married is? He asked, looking down upon her expectantly, his eyes twin pools of twinkling ebony. Nno, whwhat? She stuttered. The wedding night! Clarissa was dumbfounded, her mind befuddled and her recalcitrant tongue had ceased working, leaving her speechless. She took a deep breath, the arguments mixed with acquiescence intertwining in her mind kept her from pushing him away or pulling him to her. Darian She begged for respite, incapable of saying the words that would deny him. Clarry, you knew this would be a part of the agreement, you knew I wanted an heir, this is how that goal is achieved. He started unbuttoning the small buttons down the front of her gown, the bodice loosening, starting to fall away. This is good between us, you remember dont you? His gaze softened with his words, a tender smile tipped his lips while he slid a single fingertip down her smooth cheek in a heartwarming gesture. There has always been an intimate connection between us; I it is disconcerting since we have had a very short acquaintance. Weve entered into this with false pretenses; I need time to come to terms with that, with you, with all of it. She placed her hand to his chest silently asking for space, he rolled away lying beside her on his back, his head turned toward her, putting them nose to nose. His world had shattered with her words; he needed to be with her, he had hoped that continuing their lovemaking would soften her heart, bringing them together with passion, keeping them together with blossoming love. I could seduce you; your mind may be disagreeable at first but your body heats quickly to my touch Expecting her denial he held up his hand, cutting off the words before she could

utter a single refute. But I will assent to a certain amount of distance between us if it will please you. Eyeing him suspiciously she quirked a brow at him. What would you consider a certain amount? I will not press you, I will wait for you to come to me as much as you may wish to erase what has happened between us, I will not allow it, you are my wife in body as you are now in legality. Darian rolled to his side, propped his head in his hand, combed his fingers through her inky tresses he watched her reaction intently. We will continue as we would have had we not revealed our equally ulterior motives. We will live as a happily wedded couple, doing all that is expected of newlyweds, maintaining a proper face to everyone elseincluding sharing a room, a bed. A bed, Darian? Yes a bed, for sleeping nothing else, there is not one soul that would believe I would allow my bride to leave my side at night. He insisted. That is my offer. If that is the way it must be then, yes, I agree to your terms. She responded reluctantly, praying that she was not making a mistake in trusting in his honor or overestimating her own willpower. Darian pulled a small and delicate ring from the inside pocket of his coat, grasping her wrist, he set her hand to his heart, his gaze steady on hers; he slid it onto her finger. "This now belongs to you as The Duchess of Whitterly." Clarissa looked down upon the stones and metal that wrapped her finger, fitting perfectly, seeing it glint, and reflect the light. A single diamond surrounded by emeralds was set in the shape of a flower on a simple silver bandit was beautiful and simple, just as she would have picked out for herself. The ring itself seemed be an omen, a possibility that there was yet hope for their self-motivated nuptials.

Their travels home were relatively uneventful; they had left at dawn stopping that night and once again staying at the Red Rooster Inn. They had undressed and bedded down, sleeping easily; upon waking they found their bodies had gravitated toward one anotherher head pillowed on his shoulder, his arm flung possessively over her waist, a relaxed hand resting on her

hip. She had slipped from his grasp, lowered her feet to the floor, and eased her weight from the mattress carefully, not wanting to risk jostling Darian who was sleeping peacefully like a babe in a cradle. She had stood for a moment and watched him as he slept, laying on his stomach, his cheek pillowed on his open palm, covered only by a sheet from the hips downhe was, without a doubt, a superior form of primal male which seemed to have continuously invade her thoughts throughout the trip home. Their arrival at Whitterly had been filled with difficult questions from all, each answered with either misleading untruths or unadulterated falsities. Clarry had been discomfited by it all, claiming exhaustion she had retired early. Lying awake for hours, besieged by Darians scent, which captivatingly emanated from the bedding, she tossed and turned, making her even more restlesseverything around her reminded her of their lovemaking. First thing tomorrow she intended to lead the staff in a barrage of scrubbing and scouring of Whitterly Hall. She planned to attack every nook and cranny with a vengeancethe disrepair she had confronted upon arrival had been unexpected but the task held great atonement. She now had a purpose, a reason to keep going, a calling to take her mind from Darian until he left for Londonshe was determined to get this home into shape even if it killed her, and by the looks of itit just might. Clarissa winced, hearing the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway, strolling unhurriedly toward the room she shared with Darian. She had hoped to be asleep before he came to bed, this self-preserving agreement was sorely testing her will; she had not known she had possessed such womanly passions. The sound of his voice echoing through her brain, the touch of his hand hovering at the center of her back as they walked tormented her. She felt her sanity slipping with every moment that passed in his presence. She had attempted to hold herself aloof from his constant but undemanding touches, her failure being proof that the chore was more difficult then she had anticipated. Hearing the knob of the door turning, she twisted away from the door, closing her eyes, trying to slow her excited breathing, feigning sleep, hoping he would ignore her presence. I know youre not sleeping Clarry, you cant lie very well nor can you pretend with any great skill. She gritted her teeth and expelling a loud harrumph, keeping her body still and eyes closed, showing no other signs that she had heard his teasing words. She could stop herself from

listening intently for the sounds of clothing being removed from his extraordinarily masculine frameone she still saw clearly in her memories. Instead she heard his soft steps as he rounded the overlarge bed, stopping silently before her, she opened one eye. Peeking up at him, she saw that he stood watching her, his eyes darkened as they appraised her frame huddled beneath a heavy duvet. Darian, at this moment, resented the woeful agreement he had insisted upon. At first he had been able to rationalize with his clamoring mind and body, but now, his entire being was screaming for the release he knew awaited him. He wanted her to be comfortable with him, to be able to spend time with him without imagining that he was going to ravish herupsetting her womanly sensibilities at every turn was not the way to gain her trust. Watching her, he scrambled to find the words he needed, and debated the approach he should take with the discussion. He had planned not to seduce her as his body wanted, but instead to humble himself and tell her all that he'd never been able to tell before. He needed to explain the derelict condition of Whitterly Hall, to find some way make her understand why they were living like paupers. She was most likely repulsed by the hovel she would now call home and regretting her decision to wed, detesting him for bringing her here and forcing this all onto her shoulders. He had relieved her of one burden only to hoist another upon her small shoulders. He sat at the edge of the bed, turning slightly in her direction, he hooked one knee onto the bed, his mouth opened but no words fell out. He snapped his jaw shut and took a deep breath trying to push away the mortification that had crept up on him when he had led her into the entry way earlier in the day. He had momentarily forgotten all of his troubles, concentrating his mind instead on the injection of hope she would be bringing to his life. Steadying himself again, he faced her squarely and forced himself to subdue his pride, deciding to give her a pardon, honoring the unrequited love he felt for her. "Clarry, I should have told you, I should have brought you to Whitterly before now, it must have been a shock today, to walk into my ruin." He held up a large palm, stilling her words. "I would understand if you wished to leave, I have no right to hold you here, this is no place for a lady such as yourself." He ducked his head awaiting her obvious answer. Clarissa jerked herself up from the pillows, glared at Darian, her anger boiling, her teeth gritting, she stared at him. "Are you saying that you're willing to let me run away from this

marriage, a marriage that you insisted upon? Now, after everything, you want to let me go because you think I'm a week and empty headed daughter of a Duke?" She jumped from the bed dressed only in a nightrail; she paced back and forth across the room on bare feet. She was so angry that it completely escaped her that she lacked clothing, unaware that the glow from the single candle on the nightstand rendered the thin material completely transparent. Darian jolted upright, standing next to the bed watching in awe as she marched about wildly, her arms flapping in anger and mumbling about the idiocy of manthe woman was amazing and she had no idea. He had been drawn to her fiery spirit since the beginning and now was no exception. Her color was high, her eyes shooting daggers at him, her words cursing his very existence, and all he could think of was tossing her onto the bed and ravishing her until they both lost their minds to the scorching fervency. Clarissa turned, stomped forward until she was standing toe to toe with him, raising her hand she slapped him with as much force as she could muster, the loud crack against his cheek reverberated down her arm. "I am not a simpering miss you found in a London ballroom! I was raised to be the heir to The Duke of Huntley!" Clarissa's words huffed, crossing her arms proudly. "Clarissa, you were raised to be a duchess, a wife, a mother, a proper lady of station and comport. You deserve better than I can give you!" He stood before her holding his hand to his stinging cheek. "Darian, my father was not a conventional gentleman; he brought me up with the understanding that I would one day take his place. He understood that it was imperative that I know how to ensure bountiful crops on my land, how to encourage productivity and loyalty from my people. He insisted that I also have the knowledge needed to run a household and balance accounts." Taking a much needed breath she watched him, waited for him to speak the masculine doubt that always followed when she had told anyone of her upbringing in the past, but this time was differentDarian was different. "Clarry, be that as it may, I dont doubt that you could run this estate as well as I if not better but it does not fix anything, my coffers are empty, I have nothing but this house and my land. I cannot give you what you need." He shrugged dejectedly. "What good does it do you to be my Duchess if I can't give you all the trappings that go with it?" Darian sunk into a high backed

chair nearby, leaned his head back and closed his eyes, refusing to look at her, not wanting her to see the impotence he felt, which he was sure was reflected in his eyes. "What trappings? You mean the fashionable gowns, the matching silk slippers, and the glittering jewels?" She walked to the chair where he sat, standing directly in front of him, she looked down at his face and demanded a response. "Yes, all that and more, I want you to have everything." He stated matter-of-factly, throwing his arms up in frustration. "Do you wish me to strike you again?" Darian opened his eyes, looking abashedly at her, his hand coming to his still reddened cheek. "I'd prefer you did not." Clarissa smiled at the irony of the situation; here she was trying to convince him she wanted to stay while her captor husband was insisting that she leave. "I believe that is the most intelligent statement you've made all night." She lowered herself to the floor and tucked her legs beneath her, covering them with the skirting of her nightrail; she rested her cheek on his knee, locking her eyes with his. "Clarry, my dear wife, I do believe you have pushed your luck as far as I can allow tonight." He stated. The softness of his voice and the shy smile on his face negated the force of his wordshe was coming to the realization that she was trying to tell him she didn't want to leave. "Darian, I have all that I need, there is nothing that you could give me that I don't already have." Seeing the hurt in his eyes she clarified her statement. "What I mean to say is I am a wealthy woman, which now makes you a wealthy manwealthier than I think you ever understood." She rattled of an exorbitant number at his incredulous look, making his eyes widen in awe. "I was under the impression that your wealth lay in lands not in coin." "OhI have both, a total of five properties, or should I say you do." The irritation was clear in her voice. "Clarry, I do not want your damn blunt, or your damn lands." He reached down, lifted her from the floor, and set her in his lap, resting his hand against her cheek; he smoothed his thumb across her full bottom lip. "I don't think I ever did, no matter what I tried to tell myself." "Darian" Cutting off her own words, not sure what to say, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, parting them slightly. She willingly gave him full access to her mouth, shivering

when he accepted wholeheartedly. His tongue delved, caressing hers, teasing yet comforting at the same time. Darian pulled her more firmly against him, his fingers flexing at her hips, her breasts crushed against his chest. He gripped her rear firmly, taking her with him as he stood and strode to the bed quickly, he placed her in its center and about to follow her down when he heard an earsplitting boom in the near distancethe commotion was so loud it vibrated the floorboards. Setting her aside and gaining his balance, he raced to the window, and threw open the drapes to see the peaked wooden roof of the washhouses licked by red-orange flames. A bright glow lit against the dark and empty sky, fire spread across the roof, engulfing the entire building. "Damnation, there is most definitely a hex upon these lands." Darian cursed. "Clarissa, stay here!" He threw the demand over his shoulder while he ran from the room and down the stairs, bellowing orders, demands for water, to all within earshot. Every member of the household filed out the door behind him, racing to the burning building, knowing the procedure well. Not one had needed the instructions Darian was dictatorially deliveringthey had obviously had prior experiences of this very nature.

Chapter 12
A feeling of dread sunk low in Clarissa's stomach as she watched the unwavering determination of the paltry crew of servants as they realized they could not save the washhouse. Turning their attentions instead to the nearby buildings, they dowsed the licking flames in an attempt to repel the greedy cinders that floated indiscriminately on the hot incendiary breeze. Clarissa turned from the ugly picture before her, determining it would be unwise to disobey Darian's order but still feeling impelled to help in some way. She knew she was fully capable of assisting in other just as important tasks. Hurrying to dress, treading cursorily down the stairs, she set in search of the kitchens. After wandering for half an hour she found her target. Looking around, she was pleased to see the area was well maintained and clean, which was an extreme contradiction to the rest of the Hall. The room was extensive, well equipped to feed a crowd. Sturdy benches encircled most of the room, a central bread table separated the space into halves. A worn and scarred table sat on the opposite side from the main preparation area. The wood slatted floor was dinged and scratched; the surface was dull but spotlessly clean. All in all it was obvious that the cook at Whitterly loved her work and took exceptional care of her surroundings. Finding all she needed, Clarissa set to work.

The rag-tag band of soot-covered maids, footmen and grooms staggered toward the kitchens, their progress conducted by Rodgers, the butler. They all stridently voiced intentions of finding a stiff drink and recuperation before their return to their much missed pallets. Each one stopped swiftly in their tracks, colliding with the person before them in line, only to be jarred from behind when the next person's gaze also encountered the sight of Clarissa bustling about the large room. She had never looked less the part of a duchess; an apron covered her pale blue gown, flour was smeared along her cheek and her steady fingers were busy placing fresh scones on an already filled platter. Clarissa turned swiftly upon hearing the commotion and smiled welcomingly to the unconventional guests attending her impromptu tea party. "Come, come, have a seat, I've tea and

scones, there's even a little brandy if anyone wishes to partake." She looked questioningly at their flabbergasted stares, misconstruing the meaning, fear heightening the pitch of her voice. "What has happened, where's Darian, is he hurt?" She asked crumpling her apron in her hands. Rodgers quickly stepped forward, raising his hand to still her words, his eyes softened with his words. "All is well Your Grace, the fire has been put out; I believe His Grace went to the ducal apartments in search of you." "Ohthat will be fine, he'll find me soon enough, come sit." She gestured to the large wooden table at the center of the room. "You all must be exhausted with such wearying work, which I gratefully hope is now finished." The servants gingerly sat as requested, unsure of what she was about. They awkwardly waited to be served by the Lady of the houseeach threw an uncertain glance to Abby, who seemed to be at complete ease in the situation. "Abby, my dear, would you mind giving me a hand bringing this veritable feast to the table?" Jumping as one to their feet, the group pushed away from the table, intending to offer their assistance until Clarissa waved them off, leaving only Abby to help. Everyone sat themselves back down in their seats, baffled looks passed around the table from servant to servant. Abby strolled toward Clarissa, turning as she looked back at the scandalized expressions of the crowd; each set of eyes upon her was begging her for guidance in their time of helplessness. Abby clamped her hand over her mouth, stifling the laugh that had nearly escaped. She understood their dilemma, she had once been in their position, and she had been trained to be ghost-like, never to be seen or heard, as most servants were, but that was until she had met the Brightons. They were a different breed altogetherdeciding to take pity on them she called out to Clarissa. "Your Grace" Clarissa twisted her head in the young maid's direction. "Yes, Abby?" Seeing the stricken looks about the room she understood at once the girl's unspoken request. She walked to the group, smiling impishly. "I forgot that we haven't explained my irregular habits concerning household servants." She leaned against the bread table, resting her hip against the well-used structure, facing her alarmed guests as her gaze connected with each one in turn.

"I am no normal Duchess, to say the least. I do not believe in treating the people that help me and my family as slaves. You are an elemental force that I cannot do without, and as such you will be my friends, treated accordingly, not as imbecilic slaves." Clarissa waved her hand to include the whole table. "I will work alongside you in the house, I will garden and I will pick my own herbsbut I will also expect you to do your assigned chores or any I may add to you workload as I see fair and fit." She smiled brightly at the gaping mouths around the table; clasping her hands together she turned back to her work. "Nowwho would care for a scone? They're fresh; I also found some jam that was in the back of the pantry." Turning she waved Abby over to help her carry the laden tray.

Darian strode toward a sound of laughter and glee that was coming from the kitchens, unfamiliarly loud and boisterous, pulling him in its direction. He had gone back to the rooms he shared with Clarissa, expecting to find her pacing and waiting impatiently for his arrival thinking to find her exactly where he had left her. Finding no trace of her, he had panicked; his chest constricting. Jogging from room to room, he searched the entire floor, finally forced to acknowledge that she wasn't there he had gone downstairs to continue his hunt. He had been headed to the morning room when he heard a ruckus coming from the lower floor. Changing directions, he turned, heading down to the cellars, ducking his head under a low beam, skipping steps in his rush, only slowing his pace when he heard her melodic voice as it drifted up the stairway. The sound was an uplifting music to his sunken spirit. Darian crept up to the doorway, peeking in he saw his wife sitting comfortably in a roughly made wooden chair. His mind could easily imagine her as a queen lording over her adoring subjects, graceful and elegant. She was laughing, wiping at cheerful tears that glistened in her eyes, her hand resting on Abby's smaller one, both set on the worn wood of the table. She looked happy, more happy then he had ever seen her, he had once thought she was beautiful when she smiled brightly, her lips wide and curved, her violet eyes seeing only him but what he was witnessing here tonight far surpassed anything that had come before. Darian slipped partly into the room unnoticed, leaning his shoulder against the frame of the door. He watched the scene in front of him, gaining new eyes when it came to his elegantly peculiar Duchess. His servants were comfortable in her presence, all laughing and telling stories,

eating delicious looking scones, and drinking steaming cups of tea as if they were at a proper tea party. He had never seen anything like it; they loved her, it was all very plain to see especially when Rodgers joined in the melee, telling her a story of his own, capturing Clarissa's undivided attention. Animated and laughing, he told her a tale of a boy that had climbed a tree to catch a butterfly only to get stuck at the top. Unable to gain footing on a lower branch to make his way down he had removed his clothing to make a rope on which he could slide to the ground. And then ran back to the Hall, naked as the day he was born." He finished. Darian used that moment to step into the room, stopping the unfortunate tale, clearing his throat loudly. All heads turned guiltily in his direction. All except Rodgers who seemed to be holding a loose grip on his laughter, it rumbled through his chest as he stood. The man moved farther into the kitchens, looking innocently back at Darian. His laughter was now gone but a devilish smile took its place; a twinkle glistened in his usually solemn grass green eyes. "Tell them My Grace; what happened next, you would know better than anyone else, it's truly should have been your tale to tell." Darian stared coolly at the man, hiding the enjoyment he felt at seeing the mirth he had not seen in the man since they had both been young and wild boys. "No, old man, it's your adventure too, as I seem to remember you were the one to convince me that removing my clothing was my only option to return my feet to the earth below." Darian waited with raised brow for Rodgers to continue the tale of their childhood mischief. Everyone in the room fidgeted uncomfortably in their chairs, unsure if they should stay or runall except for Clarissa. She was intrigued, seeing the camaraderie between the two men, and noting the color rising high under Darian's ash covered face. "Was it me Your Grace? I don't seem to recall." Rodgers said with innocence. "I doubt that, my friend, but get on with it if you must." He murmured, a smile playing at his lips. "Indeed Your Grace, where was Ioh yes; he trotted straight through the court yard, running dead on into the old Mrs. Dodd who happened to be picking flowers at that moment." Rodgers stopped to take a breath, slapping a hand on his knee in hilarity. Clarissa looked on waiting for the completion of the tale, glancing at Darian, she quirked a brow at him in curiosity.

"Get on with it man, you might as well tell all!" Darian growled, positive that his face was as red as a beet, heat spread over his whiskered cheeks; he only hoped the sooty smudges covered his embarrassment. Darian's words pushed Rodgers into a full fit of laughter, unable to finish the tale. "Couldn't you finish the tale Your Grace?" Clarissa asked sweetly. "Our interest has been peaked, we must hear the end." She pleaded, batting her eyelashes at him. "DamnationRodgers" He scowled at the man but gave in under Clarissa's innocent manipulations. "You have to understand old Mrs. Dodd was our housekeeper, she had come to us from a convent in Berkshire" Rodgers burst in. "She swooned at the sight of the young master running wild in such a sad state of dress. She dropped like a stone, taking His Grace with her to the ground, trapping him under her expansive girth" He paused to catch his gasping breath. "He had to scream for all his lungs were worth to get any to come to his aid." "The poor old nun, you must have given her quite a start." Clarissa stated sadly, her misguided sympathy only encouraged Rodgers laughter, as he was currently doubled over and holding his stomach, nearly rolling to the floor with gales of cachinnation. Darian smiled at her heartfelt worries. "I received ten lashings from my father for that stunt at the insistence of that poor old nun." "By the sounds of it, if you hadn't deserved the lashings at that moment then you most likely earned them later." Clarissa stated tartly. "UmI'm sure I did at that." Looking around he noted that everyone was involved in other conversations. Moving closer, his dark eyes locked on her violet ones, he leaned his head toward her, "Perhaps, I did earn them later, maybe for stealing beauties away from their beds at midnight and racing them across the border." He whispered to her, his warm breath slid hotly along the sensitive skin of her neck, sending waves of shivers racing down her spine. Clarissa jumped away and hurried to the other side of the bread table, using it as a barrier to put a safe distance between them. "Your Grace, you must be famished after such an ordeal, I made scones, would you care for one." Her voice sounded squeaky even to her own ears. "Indeed, ClarryI am most certainly famished." The double meaning of his words was obvious to any who saw the dark heat flaring in his eyesluckily she was the only one able to see the heart-stopping gaze.

"Have a seat; I'll fetch one for you Darian." She tried to pop by him to set a scone and a cup of tea at an empty place at the table but he caught her wrist before she could escape him. He pulled her near, catching her off guard, but she managed to catch herself just before he could tumble her into his lap. She made the mistake of looking down at him, their faces almost level while he was seated in a chair. His inky gaze drew her in, her skin afire when his eyes wandered to her heaving breasts, leaving behind the entire room and all its occupants. "I took your earlier attempt at seducing me as an innocent lapse in willpower, is that assumption true?" He asked quietly. She nodded her assent, unable to make her tongue work or perhaps not wanting it to traitorously give away the truth. She had come very close tonight to telling him what secrets lay deep within her heart. The small separation from him during the fire had given her the breathing room needed to steel her resolve against the desires he always seemed to draw forth in her betraying body. It would be a horrible mistake to give in to him before she knew what lay in his heart. "You made the scones you say?" "Indeed, Your Grace." She said as she dispelled a breath she had not realized she had been holding. "I'll definitely take one, thank you, my dear." He ran his finger along the inside of her wrist, along a spot he knew was sensitive, one of the unlikely spots he had found a few days ago while at the Red Rooster Inn. Watching the uncontrollable flare of passion in her gaze, he smiled. "And Clarrystop 'Your Gracing' me!" "Yes, Your Grace." She said, filling his cup, setting the requested scone in front of him with a resounding thump, and sashaying away in indignation, her skirts swishing as she went. The kitchens had soon cleared, all ready to put the night behind them. The laughter dyed, replaced by yawns, each excused themselves one by one until he was left alone with Clarissa who had then practically ran from his presence while claiming she also need to retire for the night. Darian had walked upstairs alone with his thoughts, lacking confidence in his allure that he had only hours ago been so sure of. Clarissa's return of passion had knocked him for a loop; he had almost taken her before the blazing fire had ironically put a damper on their relations.

Losing the ground he had once held, he had no choice but to continue on as he had prior to her patience-crumbling slip. He only prayed that it would again turn for the good at some point in timehe didnt know how much more he could suffer without breaking his tight rein of control. He hadn't believed that a woman of Clarissa's great passions would be able to hold out this long; she was much more stubborn then he had originally suspected. Thoughts of the fire set his mind in a different direction. His comment before going outside had not been meant for anyone's ears, the looseness of his tongue had bothered him. Whitterly Hall had been plagued by one disaster after another or beset upon by creditor after creditor since he had returned home. A curse on the land seemed to be the only explanation, even though his mind told him it was silliness. He had racked his brain through many long and empty nights, lying awake while attempting to find the link to all his woesnever finding a single reasoning to account for them all. Clarissa was asleep when he reached their rooms, a soft snoring came from her side of the bed, telling of her complete and utter exhaustionas she should be after such a long day. Smiling down on her relaxed form huddled to one side of the overlarge bed he watched her for a moment and thought again of the way she had taken charge of his home, his servants, his life but most of all, she had taken charge of his heart. She was strong, stronger than even she realized. The way she had angered so quickly at his releasing her of her vows and the way she had stood up to him had given him even more respect for her then he had already held. After cleaning up with the cold water in the basin, he undressed and slipped into bed, pulling her lax form fully against his. He tucked her rear against his thighs; her head pillowed on his arm, the flowered scent of her hair filled his nostrils. Darian thought of how strange it was that he had never felt the need to stay with a woman after coupling. He never wanted to hold any woman through the night before Clarry had come to him. It all just laid proof to the other women being just convenient bedmates while he bided his time and waited for her, for Clarissa Brighton. Darian lay awake for a long into the night, thinking about all that had obstructed his path since his parents' death. He found it hard not to blame them for the difficulties that had swamped him repeatedly over the last years. He regretted that he had unthinkingly forced all of his troubles on Clarissas already weighted shoulders.

A shadow shifted, proudly looking over handy work, Whitterly Hall had grown as quiet inside as it had outside, while the soft breeze had died away and left a warm balmy night in its place. It was a perfect night for a ride through the sweet smelling fields. A perfect night for a warm and comforting fire, which even when extinguished sent a pungent smoke wafting from the destroyed building toward a solitary rider who stood off in the distance. "Do not believe for an instant that it will end here, there is more to come, I will not rest until you are destroyed." Staring up at a window the form watched as the last candle was douse in the attics. Turning the horse, the figure rode around the house, looking up at the blank windows, searching for the desired one. Finding a familiar place hidden under trees, the dark rider stopped to dream of a life that would come to pass. To dream of a world where destiny and fate ruled, a world where all would be as it should. "You will be mine; no one can take you from me. I will have to remove the harlot that thinks to steel away my life, my family. I have the power to dispose of the bounder; I have been left no choice." Reining in the horse and turning it away from the Hall, nudging its flanks with a sharp heel, the rider moved on; a smile lit the dark face even in the absence of a bright moon.

Darian woke late in the morning to find he was alone, the bed next to him cold and long empty. He imagined she must have purposely slipped away early, spoiling his chances of tempting her willpower once more, using the light of day to his advantage. He cursed the foolishness in him that had hoped she would remain by his side, awaking him as he'd been dreaming of her doing. He admitted the futility of remaining in bed and rose for the day, frustration still throbbed achingly through his body. Washing and dressing quickly, he left his room in search of his desire, heading down the stairs he decided she was most assuredly in the morning room. Veering to the left at the bottom of the stairway he strolled nonchalantly to the small room. It was probably the most comfortable room in the Hall with blush colored walls and a few pieces of mismatched furniture huddled together under the dancing rays of sunlight pouring through the large windows. It was where he assumed most women would have gone to find

quiet, a sanctuary of sortsbut obviously not his wife. It seemed that Clarissa was making a habit of not being in the places Darian would expect her to be. His stomach grumbled loudly reminding him that he still hadn't had his breakfast, thinking he might find her in the dining room, he headed back across the front entryway. It was not likely that she would be there since she had risen early and probably had already eaten, but if nothing else, he could fill his recalcitrant stomach before he continued his search for his wayward bride. Darian stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the dining room, the woman in question, his wife, was at present on her hands and knees as she scrubbed the worn stone flooring. It was a decidedly good view for him in his opinion, his eyes on her perfectly shaped bottom, but a completely improper place for a Duchess. "UmClarry, my dear, would you please tell me what in the world you are about?" He asked, perturbed. He had thought that she would see to what needed to be done, but he had never meant for her to do the cleaning herself, he had thought she would dictate to the servants what she believed needed to be done. Clarry stood, pushing herself up from the floor as she stretched her arms widely out to her sides, the smile on her face in deep contrast with the dirty smudges across her chin and nose. Her once lemon-yellow dress was grimily decorated with smudges of dirt, similar to her face. An equally dirty apron was wrapped around her waist and she wore a faded handkerchief covering her beautiful mass of hairbut she undeniably carried the look of a happy woman. "Darian, I see you've risen from your sleep of the dead, I didn't want to wake you so I slipped out and got started first thing this morning. There was so much that needed to be done." "What are you doing?" He asked. His answer was stalled by Abby entering holding a pail of clean water, filled nearly to the brim. Setting it down the maid curtseyed quickly and retreated with padded steps out of the room upon seeing his sour expression. "I'm cleaning the filthy floor, Darian. You do have eyes, you can see as much for yourself!" He could see well for himself that she was scrubbing the floor, but his question was intended to gain an explanation for why his elegant Duchess was on her hands and knees doing servants work. "I ask again! What the bloody hell are you doing?" His teeth grated with the words. I am not a dolt, I can see that youre cleaning the damnable floor, but I want to know why. We have

servants for such tasks. The Duchess of Whitterly has no place scrubbing a floor like a scullery maid. Anger dripped from his every word. "You deserve better than that! You are better than that! I never expected you to take on all this yourself; I don't want you to work yourself to death!" He shouted at Clarissa. Darian, I may be your Duchess, as you say, but we have a sparse crew of servants that have been just as busy as I have this morning. You cannot expect them to do all that is needed alone. I am capable of washing a simple floor, and I will do so when I feel it is needed. Clarissa's set a stubborn gaze upon him, as he opened his mouth as if to speak then quickly clamped his jaw shut and left, stomping childlike from the room. Clarissa stood watching his exit, surprised, not understanding his strange behavior, or what had upset him so. She had done nothing to anger him that she could think of, in all truth, he should be pleased that she was settling into her role as The Duchess of Whitterly so easilyshe had believed that was what he had wanted. Wasnt it? She was enjoying herself immensely; the staff had been wonderful to her. They had been respectful of her demands, following her every request, performing backbreaking work since sunup without even the slightest hint of complaint. She had awakened this morning, expecting grumbles of disdain at her impending changes. Happily, she had found the opposite, the servants had rallied around her, excitedly filling in where her education had lacked. She had been surprised at how few household servants there wereno housekeeper, a butler, a few maids, a cook, and a groom. Rodgers, the butler, took on his own responsibilities but also half the nonexistent housekeepers, the rest being taken by the cookthis mismatched household was a mess. The others servants also took up extra chores as well, which explained the lack of detailed cleaning about the Hall. Clarissa had sent her appointed army off to their chores this morning, then finding Darian's study well stocked with stationery, she had set about writing a letter to Mrs. Pierce, who had returned to London when they had arrived safely at Maddy's. Her missive had encouraged the woman to bring most of the remaining servants, leaving only a skeleton staff to handle her childhood homenot forgetting to add a request for a few much loved items to be brought along. She was determined to make this old castle into a home, into a manor-house befitting a duke.

Chapter 13
The room was dark, lit only by a stub of a candle set on the corner of his large desk. The tranquility of the warm, still night left his mind to wander from the tasks waiting for his attention on his blotter. He could not stop his mind from continuously roaming back to the thought of his wife, no matter how many times he tried to block them. Clarissa had stubbornly refused to heed his words, working from dawn until dusk. Darian, in turn, had spent most of the last few days locked in his study, stubbornly refusing to come out except for meals and to sneak into bed at night. The sight of her scrubbing and cleaning, exhausting herself had made him ashamed of what he had done to her. She deserved to be put on a pedestal, delegating the work, not working her fingers to the bone like a commoner. Her father would undoubtedly have had him hanged if he were still alive. He had reduced a princess to a pauper just because he was too selfish to let her find a husband that could give her what she truly deserved. The first night of his self-imprisonment, he had tiptoed up the stairs, entered their room without a squeak of a loose floorboard. He had stripped down and climbed into bed thankful for the reprieveClarissa had been sleeping soundly and had not noticed his presence. It was now days later and they still had not spoken since the day in the dining room, he was starting to worry over her health. Just this morning he had watched her through the window of his study as she had groomed the flowerbeds behind the house. She had spent hours bent over, pulling weed after weed while the bright summer sun beat down upon her as she worked tirelessly. Her mint green gown was smeared with grit and grime, her hair escaping its confines, little tendrils of ebony floated on the humid breeze only to be uncaringly pushed behind a small ear. Clarissa had worked until nearly luncheon time. Darian had turned to the window, ready to force his wayward wife back indoors when he caught a glimpse of someone exiting the house from the patio doors. The small maid strode forward along with the support of Rodgers and Mrs. Rowley, the cook, waiting just inside the doorway. Abby had walked onto the lawn, purposefully heading toward Clarissa who was happily unaware of the maid bearing down upon her. Darian could not hear what was said, but he saw Clarissa looked up at the girl, shade her

eyes from the glaring sunlight, shake her head, and then with a dismissive wave she continued her work. Abbys arms were flailing, making slashing gestures toward the sun which was now high in the sky, her voice rose loudly but received no notice from Clarissa who determinedly ignored the maids diminutive presence. He could not make out the words but the tone was unmistakable. Abby eventually grew irritated by his wifes stubbornness; reaching down, she grabbed under Clarissas arm, and yanked her unceremoniously to her feet. The small but powerful maid then proceeded to strong-arm the recalcitrant duchess inside into the cooks waiting arms. Darians laughter rumbled through the empty study, a smile staying on his face for hours afterward while he shuffled through the estate matters which Rodgers had dutifully set out for him to look over. At least he was not the only one thinking Clarissa was pig-headed; her actions were forcing others to also push her to do what was necessary. Under different circumstances he would have disciplined a servant had they spoken to a member of his family in such an impudent manner, but at this moment he was glad of the girls verveand relieved that the forthcoming tongue-lashing his sweet and delicate wife was about to lay would be upon the administering maid and not him. The fiery expression on Clarissa's face, still remembered many hours later, brought a smile to his face, but also a peace to his heart. Knowing that there was a strong loyalty among the servants of Whitterly toward their duchess was comfortingthat in itself told him he had made the right choice when he decided she was the woman for him.

Darian set the papers he had barely glanced at in his desk draw, stood, stretched and strode for the door, intending to go to bed now that his little hellion Clarissa was sure to be asleep. He quietly ascended the stairs, shaking his head at the silliness of his predicamentthere was no other way to put it, he was hiding from his wife. If he avoided her long enough maybe his heart would settle a little, leaving the fire that was consuming him from the inside for a more peaceful and calm emotion. A man could always hope! Swinging the door to the ducal apartments open, he walked into the room, stopping dead when he saw her. Clarissa was fully dressed, splayed out on the floor beside the bed, her arms limp and spread wide, her face ghostly white. Bellowing for Rodgers he raced to her side, lifting her head and supporting her neck as he called to her, begging her to open her eyes. His heart

leapt into his now dry throat, hoarse with emotion as he screamed her name over and over. He attempted in vein to rouse her, to bring her back to him. Patting her cheek lightly he continued to yell for Rodgers even as he heard the man charging up the steps with a whole cavalry at his heels by the sounds coming from the hallway. Clarissa opened her eyes with great difficulty; pale blue pools watched him, her mind still dazed, not responding to his desperate pleas when he asked her to speak to him. Mrs. Rowley bent over Clarissa and placed a damp cloth across her forehead, which had somehow materialized along with a basin next to him. She pushed a second cloth into his hand and instructed him to use it to pat at her pink and heated cheeks. Clarissa tried to bat away the coolness, shivering; her teeth started to chatter despite the humid night that was suffocating and hot to everyone else. "Foolish woman has overheated herself, call for a cool bathshe'll be right as rain when we get her temperature down, Your Grace." Mrs. Rowley, understanding Darian's fear, looked up at him, her eyes and posture steady and calming, reassured him that he was not going to lose his love, his wife. Darian went to the bell pull to call upon the maids to fetch water for the requested bath, but Rodgers who had been pacing the room until that moment had turned for the door and was already racing out of the room to get the job done. "I'll handle it, Your Grace, you stay with her." The trill in Rodgers quavering voice became more distant with every bounding step he took. Darian went to Clarissa's side as her eyes fluttered; the blue pools were clouded with confusion as she looked around, disoriented by her position on the floor, then closing her heavy lids in exhaustion. She had stopped fighting the cool cloth being pressed against her heated flesh, her hands rested limply at her sides, her strength sapped by the feverishness of her body. Darian reached down to her, lifted her into his arms, her light frame fragile and wilted in his hold as he strode to the bed, laying her gently on the duvet, he brushed her tangled hair away from her face. "Clarissa" His words died, unable to speak the convoluted thoughts that were drowning his heart and mind. He had thought her dead when he had first seen her, his heart breaking, shattering into a myriad of sharp, glassy shards. He had imagined himself following her into the darkness which he had believed to have engulfed her soul. Darian was thankful for the pardon

he had received, grateful for her life, but still not comfortable with the knowledge that she had come to be such an integrated part of his own life, such crucial component to the survival of his own being. Her eyes had begun to once again flutter at the sound of his voice, looking slightly clearer, but still deep with confusion. Darian? Her raspy voice dropped off, her eyes closed again as if his name upon her lips had consumed all the strength she had possessed in that moment. Your Grace, let her rest, she will need all that is within her for that which will soon come. Mrs. Rowley stated matter-of-factly, a small smile playing on her thin lips. With a small nod Darian brought his gaze back to Clarissa, not understanding the underlying meaning of the womans words, nor did he see the glint of anticipation flash into her eyes. Everything quickly came together. Rodgers and the footman brought the large tin bathing tub into the room. A parade of servants followed, entering with full buckets of water, dumping their ladings, shuffling out, only to return soon after with another. The tub was quickly filled; a task which would normally have taken an hour was accomplished in a quarter of that time. Darian dabbled his fingers into the water, it's cool, crisp smoothness felt like a stream in spring, sending shivers up his spine. Darian steeled himself from the apprehension that tickled at him, this was not meant to be a pleasant experience for Clarissa but instead a therapeutic necessity to her healthand she was sure to be furious for the facilitation. Darian now understood the need of strength Mrs. Rowley had intimated, Clarissa was understandably going to battle against their ministrations with all she was worth. Taking a deep breath, Darian went to Clarissa, dismissing the servants that had not yet taken their leave, ignoring the hard and defiant expression of Mrs. Rowley, allowing the woman to stayinwardly agreeing that he may have need of her brawn. They worked together to remove the dusty clothing from Clarissa supine frame, Darian not once looking up to see if the cook was scandalized by his need to be with Clarissa. Most men would have fled from the room immediately, leaving their wifes care in the hands of servants, or calling upon an apothecary. Darian couldnt bring himself to leave her side, he needed to see her well again, everything that was in him demanded that he be there with her. Clarissa was soon fully nude, her skin pink and blotchy, replacing what he knew to have been creamy and pristine, silky and smooth. His body clamored to run his hands over her form,

reacquainting his memory with the touch and the feel of her under his hands. Shaking his head, he silently berated himself for his selfish wanton thoughts, lifting her weak and helpless form into his arms he walked to the tub; he held her carefully as if afraid she would shatter in his embrace. Darian glanced back at Mrs. Rowley who had lagged back a short distance from his hesitant steps. The cook smiled encouragingly but still remained away from the tub, causing Darian to slide a baffled glance in her direction. Youd best be quick about the initial dunking, Your Grace, she stated. Darian nodded determinedly; biting his lip he lowered Clarissa into the bath, submerging her body in the cutting water. The once delicate and infirmed woman he had held in his arms only seconds ago was now empowered by a force he hadnt know she held. Clarissa arched her back, her screams echoing through the Hall, her nails clenching into his biceps while his hands attempted to keep her wet and slick body from escaping the torturous treatment. Clarissa opened her eyes, torment twisting her beautiful features and bringing tears of pain to his eyes, matching those that were glistening in hers. Water sloshed to the floor, flooding the room, soaking him from head to toe with her thrashing movements. You are the Devil! Release me and climb back into the depths of hell, you beast! She growled at him. Her unconscious words slashed at his tender heart, tearing his breath from his chest. Mrs. Rowley stepped up to the tub when he was about to do as she asked, seeing the anguish literally shaking him to the core. Harden yourself to her insults Your Grace, she means not what she says, tis the shock to her body that is speaking not her heart. Mrs. Rowley put a firm hand to Clarissas trunk, pressing her back into the water, looking up at his face, seeing the tears streaming down his cheeks. Darian she yelled at him, finally gaining his attention, his eyes snapped to Mrs. Rowleys. She loves you as you love her, dont allow offense to soften your intentions. But you dont understand, she doesnt love me, I have forced her into this marriage! I deserve to be flogged for having brought her to these ends! Darian cried out. Boy, dont be a fool, the woman has stayed, has turned this cold stone into a warm home, a home for a family, your family. I say she loves you, I have seen the evidence of her feelings written on her face whenever you so much as strut into a room like the peacock you areand

that will be the end of your nonsense! You are a blind dolt if you do not see as much for yourself! Do you hear me? Yes ma'am. Darian quickly responded stiffening his spine, he returned his attention to Clarissas flailing limbs, encircling her slender wrists with his large grip and he put an end to her swinging blows. Clarissa started to speak more clearly and return to herself soon after Mrs. Rowleys lecturing. I do bebelieve you have accaccomplished your goal, if you wouldnt mind rereleasing me, Id like to get out of this godgodforsaken tub. She stated as her chattering teeth impeded her words. . Her eyes were once again clear violet, her full lips had turned slightly purple, her teeth chattered, her struggles ceasing. Yes, my dear, I do believe you will be good as new. Mrs. Rowley nodded to Darian who raced to fetch a towel lying on the bed, as the cook helped Clarissa from the tub. Darian supported her as he wrapped her in a cocoon of warmth, roughly rubbing the circulation back into her limbs, her natural color returned slowly. Exhausted from her battle, she leaned heavily on Darian for support, feeling the warmth seep back into her bones as his busy hands dried her goosebump covered flesh. Finished with his task, he bundled her up into his arms again, laid her onto the bed, and tucked her into the blankets like a childsmiling at her comforted sigh. He slid his hand softly down her smooth cheek, holding her chin for his assessment, finding her look healthy and relaxed. Sleep now my love, all will be well in the morning. Turning back to Mrs. Rowley who had moved close to the door, he found her ready to leave Clarissa in his capable hands. I thank you, Mrs. Rowley, for your guidance, I was afraid I had lost her. Darian confessed quietly. You still may, Your Grace, her health has been mended but Im not so sure about her heart? Be sure that she hears the words that I have on this night. I will ma'am. He promised as his eyes dropped to the floor with his words, refusing to hold her all-too-knowing gaze.

Sooner rather than later would be your best bet, Your Grace. Mrs. Rowley stated firmly, and then turned authoritatively from the room, closing the door with a soft click as she left. Darian pulled a high backed chair to the bedside, settled his large frame into it for a restless night of watching over his wife. After tucking the blankets under her chin he fell asleep to the soothing sound of her soft and even breathing.

Clarissa opened her eyes slowly, her head pounding, her jaw aching from the violent chattering of her teeth after her unfortunate dunking. Darian was sleeping soundly, still dressed in a white a cotton shirt and tan breeches as he reclined in a chair pulled close to the bed. His legs were propped next to her hip, his hands rested with long fingers entwined laxly on his stomach, and his lashes lay like sooty crescents on his cheeks. Clarissa stayed still and watched him in his peaceful slumber, recounting her memories of the previous night, blushing at the recollection of his capable hands roaming her body, touching her bare skin. She had been so engrossed in her obsession of repairing the Hall into a home that she had disregarded her own health, in turn causing more work for everyone around her. She had used the steady list of chores to filled her mind and push out any thought of her relationship with Darian, occupying a recalcitrant mind that tended to dart to her husband when her hands were still. She had only wished to protect her fragile heart from the disastrous pain that she felt would be eminent if she didnt find a way of distancing herself from Darian. She didnt know if she could handle the loss of another person in her life, as it was, she had already lost more than most would be able to bear. She had worked in the garden during the afternoon, then scrubbed floors when she had been forced indoors by a pushy maid. Later in the evening she had beat rugs and swept floors accomplishing little more than overworking herself and undoing all she had been attempting to do. She had come to their rooms glad to have found Darian was still entombed in his study. She had walked toward the bed only to swoon and fall to the floor, landing herself exactly where she had been trying not to benaked in the arms of the man she was attempting to avoid. Her last memory before slipping into the dark emptiness of her mind was the sound of her own voice as she called out to Darian. She had wished that he had been there with her, that she could hear the gentle sound of his words as he told her that he loved her. She had quickly

slipped into unconsciousness only to awake with him at her side, his voice a jumbled mess of confusion as it passed through her foggy mind, but coming back to him when he had so cruelly dunked her into what had felt like a vat of ice; water so cold it had seemed to burn her overheated flesh. Clarissa regretted her unappreciative words in that particular moment, Darian had only been doing what needed to be donesomething she herself had done in the past to relieve the effects of a fever that had nearly taken a child in the village near her parents country home. She knew from experience it was not an easy thing to do, it pained the healer as much as it did the person needing the healing. Clarissa turned to her side to gain better position to watch Darian as he slept on, unfortunately disturbing his sleep. His eyes opened, a dark gaze concerned as it searched her face for any lingering signs of illness. She attempted a smile to reassure him, but instead felt pain shooting through her skull, stabbing at her temples, clenching her features in agony. Darian dropped his legs to the floor, leaned forward in his chair and plucked a glass of water from the bedside table, pushing it to her lips, forcing her to drink. Mrs. Rowley said youll need to drink as much as you can tolerate, the sun has leeched the fluids from your body. Your lack of hydration is the cause of the pain in your head, youll need to replace it. Sitting timidly with a small hand held to her temple, as if stilling her spinning head, she accepted the goblet. Her fingers brushed lightly against his, the touch struck her like lightening, traveling her limbs with a burning heat. She masked her reaction with a small cough and steadied her hand just before the cool liquid toppled onto the bed linens. Clarissa thanked him, refusing to meet his eyes, she downed the liquid appreciatively handing the cup back for a refill, careful to avoid any further contact. She had to agree with the cooks remedial methods, her scratchy throat felt much improved as did the rioting throb in her head, which had soon decreased to a dull ache. Darian filled her cup again and handed it back to her awaiting hand with a smileone filled with charm and humor, capable of swamping her heavy heart with guilt. Darian, I wish to apologize for what I said to you. Which statement are you referring to exactly? Youve said quite a bit in the weeks that Ive known you. Humor lit his dark eyes and made them crinkle at the corners, deepening the dimples that played so easily at his whiskered cheeks.

For saying youre the Devil of course. She scowled. I dont believe Ive said anything more beyond that which requires any such remorse from me. She informed him, bestowing him with a haughty look. "Oh, indeed, you have not. His smile brightened with merriment. Have no fear, my wife, I have taken no offense at your eager insults, your words made it that much easier for me to take your beautiful body in hand and do what was necessary at the moment when you needed me most. He smoothed his knuckles down her blushed cheek. Your spitting words encouraged my determination to make you well, and give me leave at a later date to seek my due retribution. Oh posh, She waved a dismissive hand at him. You would never do such a thing to your fair and loving wife! She said coyly while batting her eyelashes at him.

Chapter 14
All laughter fled from his expression, replaced by a predatory gleam in his hard ebony eyes as he forced back a shout of victory at her slipped declaration. Darian moved from his seat and slid onto the bed as if stalking her like a hungry wolf with a timid rabbit in his sights. He watched her face turn from a scowl at his cocksure teasing, to shock at the realization of her own words, then to a mix of anticipation and fear as she saw that he had no intentions of ignoring her blunder. He lay prone on top of the blankets, pulling her body under his own, surrounding her with his arms, he held her gaze, daring her to take back her words. When she gave no sign of speaking he lowered his head, slowly bringing his lips to hers and brushing her delicate mouth with his own, encouraging her to respond. Pulling back for an instant he again gave her a chance to rebuff his attentions. When again, she could only stare back at him blankly, he pounced, taking her mouth in a kiss deep enough to drown them both. He surrounded her in sensation, using his taste, his scent, his warmth, to pull the same from her in return. He took all that she had and still asked for more, drawing a desperate gasp from her when his strong calloused hand pushed away the weak barrier of the sheetbaring the sensitivities of her upper body to his practiced ministrations. Darian took quick advantage of the freedom from the bedding; he touched her as he had wanted to for weeks, although in his mind the length of time had seemed like many deprived years. His hands spread over her heated flesh, his palm found her bare and swollen breast, squeezing softly, eliciting a sweet moan from her full lips. Darian released her wide mouth only to slide his heated lips down her throat taking a much remembered path to her breast. He palmed its fullness while his mouth suckled her aching nipple, laving it lightly time and time again until Clarissa was writhing and panting beneath him. She was helpless to control her body, her spine rounded, her body arched up to meet his. The movement brushed the warmth of her core against his manhood and shattered the control he had held so tightly until that moment. He knew that everything that was in her was craving the anticipated joining of their bodies as much as his own.

Darian continued his fermentation of her soul, his hands and mouth gave attention to all of her flesh, her nerves drunken with pleasure. He refused to release her, keeping on until she thought she would swoon again, but this time from an altogether different source of heat. He brought on a fire so hot that it left her mind swimming in passion, her body bathing in the glow of his unrelenting attentions, anchored only by the strength of his weight. Clarissa pulled at his broad shoulders, clutched at his muscled back, her neat rounded nails scraped at the soft material of his shirt. Her body silently begged him for mercy, but she was unsure if her requested remittal was for him to cease his torrid onslaught or to proceed with his torturous enthrall. His palms moved quickly over her flesh, strong fingers drug fiery shots of energy that traversed her body. The wondrous explosion of sensation tightened her muscles, leaving her breathless and aching for more. Darian's sinewy body lay heavy and hard atop hers, pushing her into the softness of the bed. Inseparable, thigh to thigh, chest to breast, their heartbeats synchronized, forging them as one. Their breaths mingled, their tongues tangled, their bodies entwined to where Clarissa couldn't tell where her flesh stopped and Darian's began. Her mind swirled in the whirlpool he had contrived around them, leaving her unable to predict where he would go or what he would do next. The excitement of the unknown making her unsure if she truly wanted to know his designs from one minute to the next. Darian moved his mouth along her body, laying claim to all that could be reached, leaving her mind fogged and distant from any doubts that had arisen. He laved at her swollen breast with his tongue then moved upward, his breath hot against her neck as his mouth traveled a path to gently tug her sensitized ear lobe with his sharp teeth. Lowering himself once again, he brushed at the tightened muscles of her stomach with his warm lips, delving into her navel. He took great care as he moved on, laying tender kisses along the sensitive flesh above her feminine core leaving her no choice but to hold fast and travel with him through the fire he was creating. Darian's appetite for Clarissa was beyond his control, he had lost himself in her. His ears craved the stifled moans of her passion. His mouth was insatiably gluttonous for the sweet taste of her creamy flesh. Pulling the tangled sheet in a single swift tug he opened her entire body to his sight. Pushing himself upright, he knelt above her and watched as her breast heaved with her every breath and the muscles of her delicate limbs vibrated with unsatisfied desire. She was

pure, unadulterated woman, beautiful and magicalmeant for just this purpose, meant to be loved. Darian took a stuttered breath, slowing his racing heart, and pulled himself back before he completely ravished Clarissa. He wanted to love her slowly, carefully; he needed to take his time; he was determined to give her something he had not at this point been able to gift her with. There was an insistent need in him to make sure she knew what this could be between two people who loved each other. He wanted her to desire him; he wanted her to crave their coupling beyond this moment. When their bodies met, he tended to speed full ahead without taking the time to ensure that she was reaching beyond the mindless oblivion that he so wished she could experience. Not this time, this time was for her and her alone. Darian, whats wrong? "What could possibly be wrong?" He stated plainly, his expression stiff and intense. Darian adjusted to sit upon his feet and settled himself between her spread legs. Leaning forward, he slid his hands up Clarissa's thighs, gliding along the silky, trembling flesh until his palms reached the apex of her legs. Resting his hands he watched her for a moment; she was still, her eyes closed, her white teeth gently biting her full lower lip. She seemed to be waiting patiently to see what he was about. Her only tell was her hands as they gripped the sheets tightly in her palms, her innocent mind attempted but failed to predict his intentions. Darian lifted his hands, moving them to capture her hips. He pushed her, his touch just short of rough, he laid her down upon the bed until she was lying with her legs wide, her hips raised, and buttocks set upon his thighsher body opened for him to see all. Clarissa raised herself onto her elbows and stared at Darian with wide eyes, unsure of their position, uncertain of his intent, she struggled. Darian held her waist firmly to the bed. "Clarry, I just want to see youall of youstay still." He gentled her, keeping his words steady and even, using his voice to calm her. "Darian, I don't think I can." She said with a small squeak. "Yes, you can, my dear. I give you my word. I will not hurt you." He stated resolutely, his expression open and honest. "I just want this to be slow, I want you to enjoy every moment with your every fiber." Clarissa stopped her movements. His words held much promise; his words intrigued her inexperienced mind. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back, giving him her silent

assent. She held herself off the bed propped on her elbows, her back curved, breasts proud, neck arched, and her long dark mass of hair pooled beneath her. Clarissa opened her eyes to watch him, slit to allow only enough light for her to see Darian, but not sufficient to allow him into her mind. She held herself back just a little, unsure if she had made the right decision in allowing this to go so far. She had told herself when they had started this that she would be able to stop it whenever she wished. Each simulative stroke of his hands brought new sensation, each one took her mind farther and farther away. Their combined passion brought her quickly to the conclusion that her body could easily overpower her mind and her good sense. There was no longer any way to fool herself into believing that she could turn them backeven if she had wanted to. She followed his movements with her eyes as Darian's hands slid over her stomach, palms open, fingers spread wide. Amazed as she simultaneously watched and felt the heat travel, watched as the muscles jumped with the fire that traveled under her skin. He then used a single steady finger to drag the rolling flames to her core. Her body was already damp and poised for him as he slid his finger along her feminine petals. He opened her like a bud to the heat of the sun, touching her with the gentleness of his awe. Her swollen folds reacted quickly to his experienced digit; his face became dark as he watched her reaction to the motion of his own hand. Clarissa gasped as his finger swirled and circled, rubbing over and around her small hidden nub. The muscles of her thighs began to spasm; her entire body began to stretch with heat, the whole world as she knew it changed around her, changed within her. Darian heard the sounds of Clarissa pleasure, each moan and plea brought him closer to loosening the firm grip he had on his control. He fought the desperate shouts of his own passion, continuing his administrations, holding her to her pleasure. Her back arced wildly, her hips thrust of their own violation, her rear bounced on his thighs in demand. He pressed her a little harder, unwavering in his need to show her what her body was craving, wanting to see her clearly as she broke apart in front of him, with his own hand taking her there. Clarissa heard her own voice as she begged Darianwhat she was asking him for she didnt exactly know. Her husky voice echoed through her own ears as he drug moan after moan from her, her breath coming in pants. Then she fell apart, shattering into a multitude of pieces there in his hands, her world stopped spinning, her eyes lost focus.

Darian's hand moved away from her heated core but refused to leave her body. He slid his strong palms up over her flat stomach, enjoying the muscles under her dewed flesh jumping at his touch. His traveling hands smoothed over her ribcage and breasts, soothing her sensitized nerves as he allowed her to recover from her climax. Darian slid his body up to cover Clarissa's sated frame and held himself above her as he watched her face while she returned to him, the fog of release lifting. "Clarissa" "Yes, Darian?" She asked when he failed to continue his statement. "I need you; I want you, every second of every day." He explained. His words swamped with emotion. He lowered his hips and pressed his erection deep within her entrance, holding a slow steady pace as he moved forward. The heated grasp of Clarissa's core still vibrated with her release, shaking his control. Darian steeled his mind, driving himself home, deepening their connection. He rocked his hips and settling himself deeper than he had dared during their first love-making, but still not as deep as he truly wanted. The tremendous need to fill her completely stole his breath. Clarissa watched Darian's face, watched the concentration and control that twisted his features as he held a firm grip on himself. She smiled up at him and waited for his eyes to open; giving her a window into his soulshe wanted to touch that part of him that he guarded so well. Finally after a moment his gaze settled upon her face and he gave her an odd, confused look. "What is itam I hurting you?" He asked concerned. "No, you have not hurt me, but it does irritate me that you hold back your passions." She brought her small palm to his cheek. "I want all of you; I want you to be here with me as completely as I am when I'm with you." She stated simply in a whispered voice, husky with desire. "I do not hold back from you to distance myself but simply out of fear of hurting you." Darian explained. "You will not hurt me." She insisted while gripping his backside, pulling him into her. Darian took a moment to look into her eyes, seeing the honesty in her hungry gaze, he wanted give her as much of what she asked for as was possible. Gliding his hand down along the side of her breast, he smoothed it against her creamy skin as it traveled along until he reached his

goal. Taking her hip into his hand he griped her bottom bringing her closer, opening her fully for his thrust. He drove into her, watching her as he went, seeing the pleasure in her eyes as she arched her back, and matched his rhythm. Darian was encouraged when she pulled her legs up, wrapping herself around him, giving herself more leverage to meet his penetrations. Seeing she still craved more, he rolled and took her with him, laughing at her surprised screech when they landed in reverse positionsher astride him. "You want all of me; this is the best way for you to gain what you are searching for. Ride me Clarry!" "DarianI am not sure what to do." He smiled at her shyness. "This is very similar to what we did at the Inn; believe me when I say you know what to do." Darian took hold of her hips and guided her first few movements, then handed the reins over to her. He allowed her to control their love-making while still keeping his hand lightly on her hip to ensure she didn't break their connection in her new found wantonness. Clarissa found that she did indeed know what to do, her instincts took over and the pleasure inspired her, pushing her on. Gripping his flanks with her knees she rose then fell to impale herself upon his erection, feeling shots of lightening flashing through her body, traveling down her limbs, exiting through her hands and feet, only to be replaced by another in its wake. Her skin felt slick with perspiration as she quickened the pace, Darian seemed to feel assured that she had found her rhythm and allowed his hands to leave her hips, to mold her breasts. His enjoyment in her breasts was obvious as his strong fingers alternated between squeezing their firmness and caressing their fullness. He pushed her closer to her pleasure as he rolled her nipples between his strong fingers and drug a desperate moan from deep within her. Darian watched her, mesmerized by her beauty as she rocked her hips, riding him with abandon. She filled herself with his hardness, her body closed about him, rising then falling upon him again and again until she was sobbing with pleasure, begging aloud for her release. His name on her lips brought him closer and closer to his own pleasure, hardening his staff within her more and more with each husky plea she shouted. Darian pulled himself forward and drew her nipple deep into his mouth, suckling hard, she climaxed, bucking wildly, taking him with her. He had hoped to hold himself back, wanting to extend their mating but was unable, her

movements upon him, the tightening quivers at her core, flung him into his own explosion, spilling his seed within her. Clarissa, unable to hold herself erect any longer, slumped over him, her panting breath hot against his neck, her sweat slicked body fell relaxed and limp atop him. Darian gently slid her body off his own, tucked her against his side. He lay there silently and listened to her soft snores as she slipped into a deep sated sleep. Unfortunately, he was not as easily swept away by the exhaustion of their coition. His mind seemed to wish to keep replaying her echoing words, repeating it all over and over again. The largest doubts entering his thoughts when he remembered the exact words she had said"your fair and loving wife." In truth, Clarissa had not actually stated that she loved him, he had inferred the feelings from her playfully and indirect comment. Unfortunately, she had not declared her love, but fortunately, neither had she denied it, he had run happily with the words his heart had wanted to hear. He had also not given her any declaration in return, which left them in exactly the same predicament they had been in before they had made love todaya marriage of convenience. The prospect left him with a sour taste in his mouth; he had never expected this charade to continue for so long, he had always expected her to break before he himself did. This was the single time that he so wanted, heart and soul, to put himself out there for a woman, to give her himself and not regret it when the moment had passed. Unfortunately this was also the first time that the strange creature called cowardice had crept up on him and stolen the words from his lips. He had never before let doubt take such a hold on him, never had he allowed fear to grip him so tightly, keeping him back from going after and seizing what he wanted. He had prided himself on his tenacity and his unwavering determinationuntil now, with this woman, the one woman that truly mattered. Closing his eyes, Darian forced his breathing to become even, slowing his heart, blanking his brain from its thoughts and drifted to sleep while holding Clarissa tight against him.

Clarissa woke to a soft rap at the door to the apartments she shared with Darian, her mind slowly attempted to clear its self and respond. She opened her mouth to call out to send the unwanted intruder away when the knob turned and the door swung open. Clarissa pulled the sheet up to her chin ready to order out, in no uncertain terms, whoever it was that was bursting

into her and Darian's bedroomat least until a familiar face peeked around the door with a brilliant smile firmly in place. "Mrs. Pierce, ohhow wonderful that you're finally here!" Clarissa made to move off the bed to greet her much loved childhood housekeeper. Darian, having woken, put his arm out and firmly locked her to the bed, restraining her from revealing her nakednessremembering from past experience that she, in excitement, often did just that. "A robe might be in order, my dear." He stated evenly with a raised eyebrow. "Mrs. Pierce is it?" Darian inquired of the still smiling woman standing at the foot of their bed. She gave a simple but unhesitating nod to him in answer. "Would you mind much, fetching a dressing gown for Her Grace, ma'am?" Darian smiled, wide and hopeful. "I wouldn't mind one bit, Your Grace, wouldn't want my girl to catch a cold now, would we?" Mrs. Pierce walked to where a femininely peach silk robe laid haphazardly over the arm of a chair. Picking it up, she strolled toward the bed and held it wide in invitation, waiting patiently for Clarissa to slide her arms in. Clarissa jumped quickly from the bed, jammed her arms into the sleeves of the garment, barley getting the belt tied before she turned excitedly and threw her arms about the robust woman. Darian sat up to watch the scene before him, pulling the covers up slightly to ensure his nakedness was as discrete as possiblenot nearly as much as he would like considering that he was currently sitting in his bed where he had spent the last hours happily ravishing his wife. Darian with much regret realized how much Clarissa had missed her family, and from experience, her heart had no boundary line to differentiate that lovebe it a sister or a loyal family servant. He felt a fool, never intended to take that away from her or to distance her from the people she cared about. As silly as it sounded, his only excuse was a shear lack of altruism and his inability to see her for the person she was instead of the tonish label he had mistakenly put on her. It had honestly never occurred to him that she would need anyone but him or dream of anything other than the life they would share togetherconceit was ugly, but also a hard habit to rid yourself of. Every day in her presence gained him a little more of a glimpse at his own deficiencies as a person. Seeing her as the gift that she was gave him the much needed insight in regards to his own forced absence of normal human relations in his life, and his own misguided shortage of dimensions that made a person worthy of her.

Watching Clarissa happily chattering, directing her full attentions to Mrs. Pierce made Darian smile, but could not erase the doubts that had seemed to be plaguing him over the last few weeks. He had come to realize that he was not deserving of Clarissa, and most likely never would be. He had stolen her and deposited her into his life with little consideration for her thoughts or feeling on the subject. He had vainly assumed that it was inevitable for her to come to love him and that she would enjoy such a fate without a single regret in sight. Now, all that he could think of was how dense he had been and how unfair her situation washis only recourse was to send her away, to send her back to her home to her family and let her live in peace. He had attempted something similar just before the washhouse fire and had received a verbal and physical lashing from Clarissa. She was too inexperienced to see that he had taken so much from her. This time he would have to be more firm in his stance and not allow her arguments. But would he be able to let her go? With that decided he watched Clarissa ramble on to the housekeeper, her expression, open and joyful, her eyes lit with merriment, her mouth curved into a wide smile even as she spoke. The conversation was completely one sided as she talked so quickly there was no time for Mrs. Pierce to respond before Clarissa giddily jumped from one subject to the next, her words tripping over one another as she went. The housekeeper stood patiently with an encouraging smile on her round face, nodding when appropriate, and waiting for Clarissa to finish her accounts of the last several weeks. From the womans even and amused response, he assumed this was a normal occurrence after a separation, she obviously expected a lull to come at some point. Clarissa, seemed was getting to that point, almost out of breath, her words soon slowed enough to allow Darian to understand the meat of the conversation. Darian dunked me in a tub of icy cold water Um, Clarry, lets leave that tale for a little later, perhaps we could dress and allow Mrs. Pierce to settle in a bit. What? Clarissas gaze swung to Darian, a confused look upon her face. She had forgotten that he was there in the room with them; she had been so focused on seeing Mrs. Pierce that her mind had gotten away from her. Now that her brain was clearing she saw the room, saw them, as Mrs. Pierce mustDarian was sitting in their rumpled bed, his back propped against the headboard, bare-chested and smiling softly at her as she stood babbling on in nothing but her

robe. Her stomach did a somersault at just the sight of him, her face turning to a blush in an instant. Ohoh, yes, indeed. Im so sorry, Mrs. Pierce, you should rest then Ill introduce you to everyone. Clarissa led the housekeeper to the door and ushered her out of the room with an apologetic smile. Abby, could you show Mrs. Pierce to the library? Ill be down in just a moment. She asked the girl who probably not so coincidently was standing a few paces down the hall from her bedroom. With a nod the maid was off with Mrs. Pierce in tow and heading to the directed room. Clarissa turned back into the room and shut the door behind her, attempting to hide the shy smile she couldnt stop from playing on her lips. Ill get dressed and help Mrs. Pierce settle in, you can take your time and come down when youre ready. Clarry, come here. Darians demand sounded gruffer than he had intended, but he couldnt help it when the emotion he was feeling was threatening to break his resolve. Darian, Im sorry, I was so happy to see Mrs. Pierce, I guess I got a little carried away. She rushed to explain. Ill be sure to tell her our bedroom is off limits. No, Clarry, Im not angry with you, just come to me please, theres a matter Id like to discuss with you. He patted the bed next to him, encouraging her to sit. She sat as requested, a befuddled expression on her face as she waited expectantly. Darian sat quietly for a moment and attempted to find the words that would make her understand, but would keep her from becoming angry and slapping himagain. He still cringed when he thought of the force behind her slap, an unexpected power considering her small stature. Clarissa, I believe it would be best if you allowed Mrs. Pierce to travel with you and Lily back to your fathers home in London. He quickly continued on when he saw the smile drop from her mouth. Its unfair of me to keep you here with me when I know its not the life you deserve. Darian held up his hand to stop her denial when she opened her mouth to speak. I know you said you wanted to stay but you dont have to prove anything to anyone. I would not, nor anyone else, think less of you if you left this hovel! Darian

No, wait, just please hear me out! He pleaded, lifting her hand from where it rested in her lap. You almost died here, youve worked yourself to the point of exhaustion and theres still much more that needs to be done. I dont want to be the one responsible for taking you away from you family. He set his gaze firmly on her to reinforce the determination of his words. Clarissa yanked her hand away from his grasp, standing she turned away from him and walked stiffly to the window, staring unseeingly out it. Clarry? Do shut up Darian! She shouted at him as she turned back and walked to the bed where he still sat with a sad gaze, watching her progress across the room. She kept her own gaze steady and even until she reached his side. Pulling up the length of her robe a little, she placed her knee onto the side of the bed, and hoisted herself up. She threw her leg over his, and sat in his lap, straddling his thighs, she glared at him. You want me to leave? Prove it! She took advantage of his stunned silence and kissed him, pressing her lips to his, feeling encouraged when she felt his tight jaw release from its clenched position, parting his lips slightly. Refusing to back down now that she had gone this far, she speared her fingers through his hair, gripped the dark and silky locks tightly and deepened the mating of their mouths. Darian couldnt fight her this way, he couldnt find the strength to push her away, couldnt find the willpower to pull himself back. Clarissas lips were confident in their potency, her hands were assured in their mastery of his bodyshe had him and she knew it. Her tactics were fierce and determined, she refused to let him escape her grasp, and Lord help him but he didnt want her to. She knew he craved her, she knew he wouldnt be able to deny her this, so she took and kept taking until all his fight was gone. He would rather she had slapped him. Now, the only way to make her believe that he truly wanted her to go would be to hurt her and he knew that was not an option. Clarry, you made your point He stated, pulling his mouth from hers, knowing it was only because she allowed him to do so.

Have I Darian? The last time we had this discussion I thought you understood how I felt, but here we are again She glared at him. Just so were clear, Im going to say this just once more, I am not leaving, and there is nothing here that I cant handle! Clarry, are you positive? Darian asked. Youre a prideful person, and I dont want you to stay here just to save face. Clarissa covered her face with her hands, using her palms to block out the sight of the frustrating, pigheaded, dumb-witted man in front of her. What in the world was wrong with this man? She had all but announced her love for him; she had given him all that she could give him, and done all she could think to do to make him understand. She had racked her brain and exhausted herself trying to make this man return her feelings, and yet he still wanted to send her packing. Clarissa had taken all she could take for the moment, swinging her leg back over his thighs; she dropped her body down onto the bed with a loud huff. Lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, she refused to look at him again until she calmed down. She forced herself to take deep even breaths to calm her hot temper, not wanting to kill the stubborn man before she could get him to say he loved her. Clarry, every time I think of how we have ended up where we are today, I cant help but feel guilty, because I know this isnt what you wanted. Shut up, just be quiet, silenceI dont want to hear another foolish uttering about what you think I deserve or what you think I want! Grabbing Darian by the shirt, she tugged him until he was lying over her, nose to nose, breast to chest. I know what I want! This is what I want! Clarissa drove her hands into his hair, gripping his skull with her fingertips, and pulled his mouth down to meet her own. She fully intended to drown the man in passion; she was determined to make his head swim in the taste of her lips and the feel of her skin. Knocking this obstinate man upside the head with lust was the only possible way that she could think of to get him to understand she wanted to stay. She tugged the tangled bedding from between them and let her hands roam where they pleased; rousing all that was in him, rousing that part of him that craved her, showing him once and for all that she wanted to stay at Whitterly Hall.

Chapter 15
Clarissa rushed down the stairs toward the library, attempting to straighten her clothing as she went and hoping that no one noticed that she had taken much longer to dress than expected. This time, leaving the bed where Darian slept soundly and peacefully had been much more difficult than it had been before they began making love again. She had slipped from the bed, pulled on her robe and stood watching his still frame, thinking that she should climb back in and wake him, at least until she had remembered that Mrs. Pierce was downstairs waiting for her to appear. Tossing through her wardrobe she had haphazardly pulled a simple baby blue gown out, and shoved herself into it as quickly as she could before running down the stairs. Clarissa raced past the men still pulling crates, trunks, and odds and ends from the carriage, unloading it all into the entryway. Skidded to a halt in the doorway of the library she came face to face with an amused housekeeper, a housekeeper who knew her better than anyone else in the entire world. Mrs. Pierce, Im so sorry to have made you wait such a long time. Oh, posh my dear, I wouldnt be in a hurry to leave my bed either if there was a man that looked like your husband in it. Her blunt statement was followed by an unusually girlish giggle before becoming more serious. My dear, you are a woman, a wedded woman for that matter. You answer to no one. You are the Duchess of Whitterly. Mrs. Pierce took both Clarissas hands into her own, squeezing tightly for a second to gain her undivided attention. Clarissa you are happy, arent you? Yes, Mrs. Pierce, I am as happy as could be expected. Clarissa responded noncommittally. You didnt answer my question girl. Tell me all. The housekeeper led her to a pair of chairs set off into a low lit corner of the room, pushing her gently into a chair and staring pointedly at her. Clarissa knew she wouldn't be able to hide the truth or to lie to Mrs. Piercethe woman who had been there for her all throughout her life up to this point. Giving in with a soft sigh, she relayed all the details of their engagement into Mrs. Pierces lap then waited patiently for the advice that had always come in the past when she had been faced with a problem.

Clarry my dear, I understand you have doubts but follow your heart here. Do you love him? Yes maam, I never intended tobut I do. Now for the toughest question I will ask you. Do you believe he returns your love? Clarissa knew the answer before the question had been asked, bringing tears to her eyes. No maam, he doesnt, this was a marriage of convenience, he simply needed an heir and I am to provide him with that. When is the babe expected? Ohno, you misunderstood me, there is not yet a child but when there is, he is sure to return to London, return to the life he was forced to leave behind. Did I raise you to be so foolish? The housekeeper asked with a stunned expression. My dear Clarry; let me make this plain, your husband does indeed love you, you are with child, and he will not be leaving for London, not unless you are going with him! Clarissa sat silent and looked back over the last weeks. There was definitely one of Mrs. Pierces statements that rung trueshe was indeed with child. The thought brought her tears back. She knew Darian would leave as soon as he found out. Things were more of a disaster then she had thought. Clarissa, when was your last monthly course? She asked pointedly. Just before we left London, weeks ago. She answered. Mrs. Pierce, you cannot under any circumstances tell a soul that Im with child! I will not speak of it, but you are going to have to tell your husband at some point, child. I know but I need time! By the sounds of it, you have at most a few short months before he starts to notice on his own, especially if you plan to spend a great deal of time in his bed. The housekeeper chuckled then stood and put her hand out to Clarissa. See that you dont take too long. I wont, I promise. Now, lets get everyone settled. Mr. Grumbley asked me to inform you that he will be arriving tomorrow at luncheon time to finalize your father's will. Mrs. Pierce delivered the message with a noticeable snort of disapproval.

I cant say that Im surprised, he always arranged his meetings with Papa to coincide with some meal or another. Clarissa stated with a smile.

Standing in the shadows of a large overhung bush, a lone figure watched the unloading of the veritable caravan. A multitude of carriages had circled to a stop at the entrance of Whitterly Hall, each heavily laden down with every object imaginable. Servants strode back and forth, arms full to overloaded, empting one carriage only to have another pull forward to be unloaded in the same manner. Men and boys alike followed the militaristic orders of Rodgers as trunks and crates came out, each being stacked high just inside the entryway, the pile growing slowly into a mountain of sustentation to the diseased household. Each stick of furniture, each ounce of wax, each bolt of cloth that entered these grounds put a delay in the triumph that was meant to come. The victory that had seemed to be near and inevitable just days ago was now gaining distance in the chase and terribly too close to being lost forever. The hidden form watched as failure became apparent, unable to do anything but to curse under a heated breath as all the fragile hopes and dreams of a quick resolution shattered. The prideful satisfaction that had days ago added a joyful bounce to a step now disappeared, only to be replaced with a scornful dissatisfaction in a trudging gait. "I will not allow this to turn me away from my glory! Just when I think it is all coming to an expectant end, a gust of victory blows your way! I would call you out for the bastard you are if only society wouldn't frown upon my forwardness and consider such an act as stepping out of my place." Tucking farther into the bushes, the figure backed toward an awaiting horse, careful to step softly so as not to draw unwelcome attention to an unnoticed presence. "I will not allow my sensitivities to hinder my goals any longer. You have pushed my hand to the point of breaking; I have attempted to be civil in my ways but no longer. I will meet you head on from this point on!" Mounting with a huff, kicking the horse's side, the slinking form kept to the shadows, passing through a thicket of overgrown hedges. Moving slowly out of sight of those who may be in position to take notice and closing in on the path leading to the road, hiding an angry retreat.

Darian woke expectantly, but found he was alone, and the bed next to him had long grown coldClarissa must have run from him shortly after he had fallen asleep. He had foolishly

thought that he had made a slight bit of headway when it came to Clarissa and to their marriageobviously he was mistaken. Wives who were satisfied and happy would not leap from the arms of their husband as quickly as Clarissa tended to do all so often. Her reasons for staying were clear in his eyes even if they weren't in hers, her words failed to coincide with her actions. With a sad shake of his head Darian pulled himself from the bed, dislodging his mind from the thought of his wayward wife and distancing himself from the intoxicating scent of her that still lingered in the sheets. Pulling on his clothing, he headed for the door, intending to track down Clarissa, and request a meeting with her. His only option at the moment seemed to be to give up his pride and beg her to love him. It was completely possible that she was waiting for a sign from him before she felt comfortable with expressing her own feelings. He had been such a fool to think that she was any different then he himself was. He had been hoping for a sign from her when all this time she may be doing the same. If she didn't return his love, but was shocked or disgusted by his declaration, then he would also have his answer and she would flee of her own volition. Why hadn't he thought of it before? The simplest solution was to give her what he had been hoping that she would give to him, the words of love. His answer would be there for him to see. His hopes were high and his steps were light as he entered the hallway and descended the stairs in a single-minded search for Clarissa. Halfway down the stairs Darian's mind registered the commotion below and stopped in mid step. There were men and women alike toting objects through the doorway from outside. Some carrying polished and glossy high back chairs, others a cherry desk, still yet, other carting in wooden crates and trunks filled withlord only knew. Clarissa had said that she had sent for a few items but never had he imagined she would request the entire household and all it contained. This was completely unnecessary, he may not have a lot but it was enough to get by, it wasn't as if they were suffering for the lack of a few chairs. It started to occur to him that she must be even more unhappy than he had thought. Did she hate her life here with him so much that she wished to replace it with the life she had in London? The thought made him cringe, doubts crept into his mind. Could he be so wrong about her feelings? The woman was slowly and methodically removing any and all confidence and self-worth he possessedthe hardest part was he couldn't help but think she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Since meeting her, he had been doubting himself more and more, forgetting who he was, in truth, he had turned into a ninny. One moment he was praying she loved him and the next ha had been wishing he had never started loving her. He'd never been so week or so undecided in his life, he had prided himself on the fact that he was a strong and feared man. She had snuck under his defenses and rendered him a boyishly worshipful husband, following at her heels, and doing as she bid. Clarissa chose that moment to walk into the entryway, followed by her doting housekeeper. Darian hardened his heart and propelled himself down the stairs to confront her. She looked like an angel, dressed in a delicate blue gown, her hair tugged into a messy bun at the base of her neck, and a bright smile on her full lips. The sight of her took his breath away; the flush on her cheeks reminded him of their lovemaking. Stomping his foot, he cleared the destructive thoughts from his addled brain and gained her attention. "OhDarian, there you are, come join us, there's so much I want to show you." "May I have a word in private, my dear wife?" He bit out. She nodded, her mouth turned down in a confused frown. Darian led the way to the study, refusing even a glance at her face. He knew that she could sway him with a look or a batting of her eyelashes; he knew he had no defenses when it came to his wife. Darian turned once they reached the study, flipped the door closed behind her with a quick slap, and pounced. "What in the Lord's good name do you think you're about, madam wife?" He shouted. "Is there some reason my furnishing, my possessions, are not good enough for you?" "Darian?" "Am I good enough for you, Clarissa?" He spat the words out through clenched teeth. "I gave you the option of leaving, but you said you wanted to stay!" Darian turned not wanting to see the sad and hurt expression that she seemed to be able to contrive when it suited her. Clarissa walked slowly to Darian, placing her palm on his shoulder, begging without words for him to turn and look at her, but he shrugged off her touch. His actions hurt her more than the words he had pelted at her, she had never meant to upset him. He had to have known that she planned to bring her things here with her; she shouldn't be expected to leave everything behind. She had lost so much already.

"Darian, I don't understand what has upset you so. I simply sent for my belongings and a few loved servants that have been with my family for years." "No you did not, this all belonged to your father, your other life!" He bellowed at her. "I can support my family, and you are now my family. I will support you. I will give you what you need, what you want!" He continued with his voice still so loud that it shook the plate glass in the windows. "You are mine, you are my wife, do you understand?" "Yes, Your Grace, unfortunately, I do understand." Clarissa replied in a small and quiet voice. "Would it please you if I had it all returned to London, since we married, everything I own is, after all, now yours to do with as you wish?" "Keep your things, just leave my presence now; I have no wish to set eyes on you any longer." Darian's request was quiet and cold followed by a dismissive wave of his hand. Clarissa left him as he had demanded, feeling the frigidity of his voice sinking into her bonesshe had lost any hope of making this a true marriage. She could no longer hold any hope that he would someday come to love her, that they could possibly share a life. He had made love to her then informed her that she had no place in his life. His actions today were proof enough of his disconnection and of his expectations of her and their marriagehis only hold to her was his lust. How could she have been so wrong? She had no choice but to accept that this was her life, her dreams had been well and truly destroyed by the cruel force of reality. She was no longer a child, she was a woman, a duchess, who had a role to play, and as much as she now regretted her decision to stay, she would not go back on her word. She had taken vows, she was carrying his heir. Her pride and her conscience told her she no longer had a choice in the matter. Clarissa walked, as if in a dream, down the hall and back to the main entryway, where she stopped and watched all her worldly possessions being piled into the large area before the door. She had spent many childish moments imagining their arrival, hoping to fill Darian's home with the residual love and warmth that surrounded each object carted here from her family home. Looking at them all, each item carried a memory or a moment linked with happier times, making her heart break, each item making her resent her parents love. She had never witnessed a cold and distant relationship between a husband and wife. She was unprepared for the future that now seemed to be lurking ahead of her.

She bent and picked up a pink silk shawl that had been her mothers, it still carried the scent of lavender she had loved so much. Heading upstairs, Clarissa returned to the bedroom she had left a few short hours ago, her heart had been filled nearly overflowing with the magic of their lovemaking. She looked around now only to see a place that mocked her, a space in time that cruelly laughed at the despair that had seeped into her now saddened heart. Clarissa moved as if in a fog, each step hesitant, each movement cautious, she laid herself down atop the twisted and convoluted bedding and fell fast asleep still holding tightly to her mother's shawl.

Darian had sat for the past hour, hidden in his study, not wanting to face all the objects of his emasculation sitting idly in the entryway. Clarissa had played him well over the last weeks, making him believe that she was happy here at Whitterly. She had never intended to take the expected place of a loving wife or a doting mother to his heir. Her plans from the beginning had been to marry a poor sod who would allow her to control his life and allow her to rule as a duke as her father had trained her to do. A familiar soft rap on the door told him Rodgers was about to trespass upon his thoughts. Welcoming the intrusion, he beckoned him forth. The butler entered and looked at him with knowing eyes, their grass green shade unable to hide their concern. "Yes, Rodgers?" "Your Grace, a Mr. Grumbley has arrived from London, he wishes to meet with you." "Send him to me." Darian replied in a short gruff voice, assuming it to be yet another visit from a creditor which would demand payment of an old debt not his own. "Yes, Your Grace." Rodgers left the study just as quietly as he had entered, returning a short time later with an older gentleman who was so round that he barely fit through the doorway. Mr. Grumbley was well dressed for a man so large, perspiration poured from his face, a white handkerchief dabbed unsuccessfully at the dampness. He was out of breath and puffing loudly by the time he reached the proffered chair before Darian's desk, he dropped his frame with a thud into the seat. "Your Grace, I am Mr. Maurice Grumbley" "How much did my father owe you sir? I am not interested in details, just the pertinent information." "Umexcuse me, Your Grace?" Mr. Grumbley questioned, not following the conversation.

"You, sir, are not the first to fall upon my doorstep to demand the coin my father owed; I do not wish to dally with polite conversation. Out with it man, so we can have you off my land!" "Your Grace, I believe there has been a great misunderstanding. I am not here to collect a debt but to transfer assets to you upon the submission of proof of your legal marriage to Ms. Clarissa Brighton, heir to Richard Brighton, Duke of Huntley." Darian stared blankly at the man for a short moment before his mind was able to wrap around the meaning of his words. "Ah, I see, I'm terribly sorry for the confusion; let me ring for some refreshments. Is tea and scones agreeable?" Darian asked while flashing his most charming smile, hoping the promise of food would deter the man from inquiring about his blunder. "Yes indeed, that would be a good start." Mr. Grumbley replied enthusiastically. Darian stood, pulled the bell then returned to his chair behind the desk, awaiting the arrival of Rodgers. Rodgers was as quick as always, knocking quietly before entering, he stood before them with an inquiring look on his face. "Yes, Your Grace?" "Would you please bring us tea and scones Rodgers and have a cold meat platter prepared, we'll take luncheon here in the study when all is ready." "Yes, Your Grace." Rodgers answered, and then left with a quick bow. "Now Mr. Grumbley, lets get on to the business at hand." Darian prompted the man. "Yes, of course, I just need to see a signed and witnessed marriage contract then we can go over all the assets in detail." "Yes indeed, let me fetch that for you, I'm sorry to say that the papers you request are in another room. Please excuse me a moment?" "That's quite alright Your Grace, do as you need." Darian stood to exit the room as Rodgers wheeled in a cart filled with scones and tea. Walking to the door he turned to see the rotund man diving into the pastries wholeheartedly. "I'll be back in a trice, my good sir. The marriage contract is all in order, I believe all will be sanctioned when you see them, then we can discuss the matter of assets." "Indeed, I am sure all will meet with my approval, Your Grace." Mr. Grumbley assured between mouthfuls of scones.

With a nod Darian was off, striding up the stairs to his bedroom where he had tucked the requested document into a book on his shelf. Catching a glimpse of a figure in his peripheral vision he stopped and turned back toward the door to the study, however no one was there, he continued on his mission up the stairs. Darian hurriedly burst into the room, heading quickly to the book shelf, but stopping when he noticed he wasn't alone. Clarissa laid upon the bed, her hands clutching a pale pink shawl, her tear streaked face ghostly white as she slept on, unaware of his presence. He had completely forgotten all about their argument when her agent arrived. Seeing her as she was now brought it all back to himbut he now lacked the hot anger that had swamped him earlier. She looked so small and childlike, weak and helpless as she lay there in their bed. The sight of her cleared his mind of the doubts that had haunted him, and made him regret the assumptions he had jumped to so unfairly. Clarissa didn't have a manipulative or conniving bone in her well framed bodyshe was incapable of the cold accusations he had so quickly thrown at her. He had mistakenly lumped her in with every other calculative woman he had ever met, including his own motherin truth; nothing could be farther from the truth. He had made a terrible mistake, and at this point, he wasn't sure an apology would fix such a huge blunder. He may have completely and thoroughly destroyed any hope that she would one day be able to love him as he loved her. He could not find anything that could excuse his behavior except that love is blind. His mind had been conjuring all sorts of misconceptions over the last few weeks, blaming Clarissa for every troubled thought that crossed his mind. This had to be love; nothing else could possibly make a man so foolish. Darian went to the shelf and pulled down his copy of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and shook his head at the irony of the document's placementstar crossed lovers indeed! Darian returned to the study and the awaiting Mr. Grumbley with the marriage contract in hand.

Felicity had come to Whitterly Hall to check up on the situation, to see how Darian and Clarissa were getting along. Since the marriage, either Lily or she had sneaked into the house to try to gauge their moods, to see if their relations had improved. Lily had been the last spy and had thought that they were progressing well. Today was her turn. Slipping in the rear door to the house, Felicity had easily bypassed the servants treading in the halls, and the squeaky

floorboards intent on giving her away. Hearing voices in the study she had slipped into a small niche behind a large potted palm and eavesdroppedunfortunately she wasn't hearing what she had hoped to hear. Felicity watched Darian run up the stairs then waited for him to return to the study before she made her way out of her hiding spot. Darian had stated that the marriage contract was in order, and that could only mean one thinghe was trying to marry her off. He had said that they would be together, that he wanted her with him. He had lied, that was the only possible conclusion to come to when there was an enormous, well dressed, old man, sitting in Darian's study and waiting to approve a marriage contract. She had been through this more than once, her parents had often kept things hush-hush, and then they would spring it on her, informing her that a man had offered for her hand. Each time she had gone to meet the gentleman as expected of her but found the same thing each timean unattractive but wealthy old man, pining for a young untried bride. Felicity had thought Darian was different, he had told her he was different; he had promised that he would give her the life that she deserved. He was obviously just placating her until a match could be formed, biding his time until he could get a high enough offer. Felicity headed straight for Clarissa's room, hoping her new sister-in-law would be able to help her out of this; she would stand up for her and refuse to allow Darian to send her away. Clarissa was a good sister to Lily and a strong woman, she would help her, and she would never stand for this! Clarissa would most likely march into Darian's study, demand an explanation for his horrendous behavior, and dismiss the gentleman waiting for her hand. Felicity flew up the stairs, surprising a few unsuspecting servants along the way. She raced to Darian and Clarissa's bedroom and burst into the room, panting and out of breath.

Chapter 16
Felicity went quickly to Clarissa's bedside and shook the sleeping woman awake in her haste to resolve the matter. "Clarry, you have to wake up, I need you!" "Felicitywhat are you doing here?" Clarissa questioned, however, the girl continued to shake her. "Felicity stop, I'm awake now!" "Sorry, you have to help me!" She released her, allowing Clarissa to sit up in the bed. "Darian's trying to marry me off, he's down in his study right now settling on the details of the marriage contract." "Slow down, a marriage contract? For whom, what are you saying, are you sure?" Clarissa asked, confused, sleep still muddling her brain. "Yes, I'm very sure, please help me. I'm not ready to get married. I'm definitely not ready to marry a man three times my age." She pleaded. Clarissa pushed her legs from the bed, standing on wobbly legs she walked to a chair, sitting she silently pointed to the one oppositeFelicity sat. "Nowslow down and tell me everything." Clarissa encouraged, hoping that this was a misunderstanding but unsure after the way Darian had behaved this morning. Clarissa listened, waiting patiently for the girl to tell her all she had overheard. Clarissa listened carefully, but couldn't help but agree that the situation did not sound promising; it did indeed seem as if Darian was negotiating an agreement of marriage. Felicity was the only person in the household of marriageable age for an agreement to be formed. "What can we do?" Felicity asked with unshed tears in her eyes. Clarissa stood, the determined look on her face showing Felicity she would indeed help her in this situation. Felicity sighed with relief; she finally had someone in her corner. "I'll handle it; just go back to Maddy's until I send for you."

Darian and the agent finished settling the difficult details of Clarissa's father's ducal estate. Mr. Grumbley had left just a few moments before, intending to go to a nearby inn where he planned to stay the night before returning to London in the morning.

The estate had not been settled as easily as he had hoped, mostly due to the fact that he had no real idea of the great expanse it contained. Along with numerous properties, it had come with a great deal of wealth, three times more than even Clarissa had realized. He had been struck dumb at the amount quoted by Clarissa weeks ago, but today he'd nearly fell from his chair when the agent had finally reached the total account of wealth. Mr. Grumbley had been a true gentleman, acting as if he had not noticed the shock written plainly on Darian's face at the spoken amount. He had also noted that the agent did not follow the beliefs of his former employerthe scandalized look of dismay on the man's face was proof enough of his feeling. Darian had ignored the agents blustering and insisted that an untitled portion of the estate along with a large monetary allowance be set aside for each Clarissa and Lily alike. He had no intention of explaining his reasoning to the agent but he himself knew that it was the only fair path to take. Lillian would have a dowry strong enough to attract the right sort gentlemen but not large enough to attract the wrong sort. Clarry's portion would hopefully never be needed. She would be able to set up her own household if she wisheda life away from him would be available to her. Darian was still frowning over his predicament when the door flew open and a furious Clarissa stormed in and slammed the door behind her. "What in bloody hell do you imagine you're about?" She shot at him while standing dead in front of his desk, her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. "What are you about?" He queried quietly, enjoying seeing the return of her spirit, the return of the strength that he had always loved so much. "I'm defending the helpless girl that youre despicably attempting to destroy, that's what I'm about!" She bellowed. Darian gazed at her, confused as to why she would ever refer to herself as helpless, let alone as a girl. He could admit that he had been a horrid tyrant over the last few weeks, but he couldn't believe that he was capable of destroying hershe was much too strong of a woman. "Clarry, I know I've been contemptible in the past but don't you think your words are a little harsh in this instance?" "No, I do not, you have gone too far, much too far, and I will not allow it! Dou you understand me?"

"Yes, I do believe I understand exactly what you are saying, I'm sorry you feel that way." Darian ducked his head. "Please believe that I never intended for things to turn out as badly as they have" Clarissa nodded, turned sharply and exited the room leaving Darian alone with his sorrow. Clarissa sent word to Felicity that all was well and that Darian had agreed not to follow through with his plans. The girls were also informed that it was time to come home from Maddy's, Felicity needed to get back to her life and Lily needed to start hers here at Whitterly Hall.

Clarissa sat in the warmth of the sun, lounging on a daybed in front of a tall window in the morning room. Lily and Felicity were each reclined on parallel lounges in front of the fire. All of them lay relaxed and lost in their own thoughts, imagining what was to come next in their lives. Clarissa was near tears as she thought of the way Darian had dismissed her the day before, his words had been cold as if he didnt care whether she stayed or whether she left. She had never believed that it would be this torturously difficult to decide to leave him, if and when the time arrived. She had expected that she would hate Darian so much that leaving would come easy and swiftly. Unfortunately, she couldnt make herself hate him and it the choice to leave had been an arduous one. Her mind contradicted itself each time she came to a strong determination, each time she attempted to work up a good rolling boil of anger her heart would softened. She finally came to the conclusion that she wouldn't be able to come to a conclusion, her mind was at the moment all too wishy-washy. "Girls?" She spoke gaining Felicity and Lillian's attention. "I think it may be time for you both to go to London!" Clarissa surprised even herself; she had finally made a decision. The words had fallen out of her mouth, stronger and more confident then she could have brought forth if she had actually tried to put such inflection in her voice. "Clarry, do you really think we could?" Lily asked hopefully. "Oh, Clarrywhat a wonderful idea, I have so wanted to have a season!" Felicity responded enthusiastically.

"I don't see why not, I'd say you're both of the right age and I'd be your sponsor." She assured them. "There is one concession that I will need from you both. This will have to stay between us!" "Are things that awful between you and Darian?" Mrs. Pierce asked as she quietly stepped into the room. Clarissa jumped at the sound of the housekeeper's voice. The woman had fit into the household well, becoming quick friends with the cook, Mrs. Rowley. It seemed that the two women had a lot in commonthey both felt a need to keep an eye on her, both instilling themselves as motherly figures in her life. She had not been able to turn a corner without running head long into at least one of the women if not both. They had seemed to make it their mission to haunt her every movement, making her feel a prisoner in her own houseit was starting to anger her more than Darian's silence. "Girls, can I have a moment alone with Mrs. Pierce please?" Clarissa requested, not taking her eyes from the housekeeper. "Yes, ma'am," The girls replied in unison. "No eavesdropping, do you understand me!" "Yes ma'am." They replied again in unison. Clarissa waited until the girls footsteps had retreated and she was sure they would not return before she spoke. "Mrs. Pierceis there a reason you are following me around, watching my every step?" She asked bluntly. "Is there a reason you haven't told your husband you're carrying his child?" The housekeeper asked, ignoring Clarissa's question. "My husband, as you refer to him, has basically given me leave to go where I like and to do as I wish. He is not interested in us sharing our lives together and has said as much when we last spoke." "Are you positive you were hearing what he was saying?" Mrs. Pierce asked. "Yes I am positive, I may be his duchess but he is not interested in having a wife. I have come to understand that my husband will never be the man I had hoped he would be, and I am ready to move on with the life that I have been given." "If you say so, my dear, if you say so." The housekeeper muttered as she left the room.

Darian stood behind his desk looking out the window that opened out onto the back gardens. He watched as butterflies flitted around flowers, blossoms that had been placed by his wifes gentle hands. Could it be, that only a few weeks ago he had watched Clarissa make herself ill working in the bright sun? It seemed like such a long time ago, they had nearly mended all between them when it had suddenly fallen apart again. He felt so lost; a sad empty throb took the place of his heart in his chest. He had never once felt that his world, his sanity, was directly linked to the existence of one personhe knew now that it did. He'd become a moping and sorrowful excuse for a man, hiding himself away, not wanting her to see how hurt he was by her distance. He'd become one of those puppies trailing behind a woman's skirts, the same ones he used to poke fun at back in his Eaton days. Yesterday he had decided to return to London, escaping this place, going back to the world where he knew where he stood. Then upon waking the next morning he had decided against that plan, preferring to stay at Whitterly and hoping that she would change her mind. He still wasn't sure what had actually happened between them. They had started out arguing, his temper had flared, her spirit had let loose, then she had given up and so had he. He couldn't trace the exact steps to see where they had gone wrong, he just knew that they had, and it seemed to all be over before it truly got started. Darian took notice of his surrounding and realized he was no longer aloneMrs. Rowley was standing behind him. The cook did not speak, but gazing upon him intently, as if waiting for him to say the first words to start the conversation they both knew was coming. "Mrs. Rowley, is there something I can do for you?" Darian asked, not turning from the window, refusing to dump his problems and the loss of his manhood at the woman's feethe still had his pride, if nothing else. "Is there something I can do for you, Your Grace?" She asked pointedly, her eyebrow rose in question. "No, I don't believe there is ma'am." "Do you love her?" She asked, refusing to believe his denial. "Yes, I do, more than I ever thought possible, but then, you already knew that." He spoke the truth, not bothering to pretend outrage at her impertinent question.

"Have you told her?" She persisted with her uncomfortable line of questioning. "No ma'am. I haven't." He sighed. "I'm not truly sure what has happened, every time I get the nerve to speak of my heart something intrudes and places a wall of coldness between us. I'm at a loss for what we're even angry about this time." "Perhaps there isn't anger between you but a misunderstanding. Has Clarissa ever been too shy to tell you what has infuriated her before? What could be the harm in asking, clarifying?" "You may be right, Mrs. Rowley." "Just remember, as I told you once before, there's not one woman on this green earth that will wait around forever to hear the words you seem so determined to keep so close to your heart." The cook, in her usual fashion, spoke quietly and directly then disappeared, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He couldn't deny there was truth in the woman's words, Clarissa in the past had gladly informed him of his stupidity when he had asked her. There was a fine line he needed to walk when discussing such matters with his fiery wife; he had learned from experience that her swing held great strength. Darian put his palm to his cheek, remembering the sting of her slap with a smilehe had never enjoyed a woman's feistiness as he did Clarissa's. In truth, he had often avoided women who tended toward the dramatic; he had always preferred a distant and cold partner for his liaisons. Well, the fates must be laughing at him now, for he had so enjoyed the thought of being married to a fiery woman of passion. Instead, he now found himself to have been saddled with a frosty and aloof bride similar to the women of his past. He had become a person he no longer knew or understood. He had changed from a selfish, self-centered boy to a self-conscious, single-minded man. He now spent more time worrying over fields, family and account books then he did balls, ladies of pleasure and fashion as he had been inclined to do in London. Why then was he still being punished? Darian stood with a sigh of dejection, for the first time his mind and heart were speaking in unison. His heart told him to go to Clarissa and his mind told him that he had better do so quickly before he lost all his nerve. He left his study in search of his wife; looking into the empty morning room and not finding her, he headed upstairs. She often times liked to rest after luncheon, she seemed to be resting quite a lot these days. They had not been on speaking terms but he still made a point of keeping close tabs on her whereabouts.

His instincts had been right; he found Clarissa sound asleep atop the covers, curled up like a small child. He couldn't bear to wake her; she looked as if she dearly needed the rest. The dark circles under eyes were growing more pronounced as each day passed; her face had become pale and doleful. They had not spoken in the past few days except when absolutely necessary, but he had taken every unnoticed moment to study her. What he saw was disconcerting; she seemed to be more weakened and more distant as time stretched between them. He couldn't deny the possibility of his first thoughts any longerhe had lost her, this marriage had broken her spirit. His heart ached at the thought. Darian sat and watched her sleep, unable to move away from the sight of her, unwilling to allow the physical distance between them to match the emotional distance that had formed.

Clarissa awoke to the sound of soft snoring; she stretched her arms high while her ears tried to place the origin of the noise. When her eyes cleared from the fog of sleep, she looked around the room and found the source in question. Darian was sleeping in a chair that at one time had been facing the fire but was now turned in her direction. His face was relaxed but still slightly solemn, his sooty eyelashes were a sharp contrast to his tanned skin; his full lips were almost downturned in his exhausted state. He had obviously needed the rest but had been unwilling to enter the bed where she had been slumbering so peacefully. Did he now hold her in so much contempt that he couldn't bear the thought of lying next to her in their bed? She had so wished that it had been different, that they had not had the argument that had obviously ended their relations. There was no longer any reason for her to doubt the results. She had lost him. Her heart ached at the thought. Sliding quietly to the edge of the bed, she dropped her feet to the floor. Clarissa sat for a minute, watching him in his lax state, her mind going over everything that had occurred between them over the last weeks. She would have liked to have found even a momentary iota of doubt, a possible remembrance of a time when there was a glimmer of potential for them. She shook her head in ruefulness, finding the chore futile as she pushed herself up and tiptoed from the room. The only way for her to save face now was to go to London and move on from this failure; she would give him what he wanted, she would give him a simple marriage of convenience. Now if

she could only find a way of getting him to release her heart, to release her from the love she now regretted, the love she had so unknowingly put forth. Clarissa spent the next two hours finalizing her plan of retreat and making sure all would be ready for her and the girls to leave for London the next morning while Darian would be out in the fields. She found the preparations much more difficult than she had anticipatedmostly due to the lack of willingness of the staff. It seemed most were in disagreement with her plan of action, especially Mrs. Pierce and the housekeeper's new found co-conspirator, Mrs. Rowley. They put up arguments at every turn and even went as far as calling her a foolish child, all of which only made her more determined in her escape. Having made her plans despite the staffing blockade, she headed to the morning room, a place where both Lily and Felicity had enjoyed whiling the time since their return from Maddys.True to their habit, Clarissa found both girls sitting quietly, each engrossed in their own copy of Delphine. The controversial book of letters had made its way through the ton with the helping hands of young girls, much to the dismay of most gentlemen. Most mothers and fathers had banned the work due to its informative nature; however, Clarissa had encouraged it knowing the girls could only benefit from seeing the life of women as it truly wasno matter how unpopular the truth was. Over the last few days the girls had taken up the book with excitement, refusing to set the book aside even during meals; they often turned pages while spooning pudding into their mouths. Clarissa entered the soundless room unnoticed and took a seat in a lounge near the fireplace. Her mind went over her scripted words hoping to find a way to tell the girls of their departure without sending up warning flags. They needed to be excited about this trip but not worried over her and Darian's relationship. The girls had not spoken to Darian since their return to Whitterly, openly aligning themselves with her. Clarissa knew that they did not truly hate Darian; they just wanted happiness for them both. "I've made arrangements for us to leave for London in the morning; we'll be setting out at first light." Both girls swung their eyes to her, surprised to see her there in the room let alone hearing her words. "Is Darian going with us?" Felicity asked.

"No, he will be following us later; he has matters that will keep his attentions here for a bit longer." Clarissa fibbed. She knew she was implying that she had discussed the matter with him but was sure he would eventually follow them to town. He had never denied his intentions of returning to London, she was simply ahead of him in his plans. After all, she knew he had accomplished his mission of getting her with child, even if he didn't. There was no reason to encourage him to leave her to find a mistress; it would happen in time without her help. "Where will we be staying when we get there? Darian sold his town house, we cannot stay anywhere unfashionable." Felicity asked. "I have a house in London, well Darian has a house in London now that we are wed, but be assured I promise that it will all be all right." "We're going home Clarry?" Lily asked with excitement. "Yes indeed, we're going home." Clarissa sighed, not hearing the sadness in her own voice or seeing the concern in the girls eyes as they watched her stand and turn to leave the room. "You should both make sure you're packed before you retire for the night. I'll be in to check that you haven't forgotten anything." She spoke without turning back to the girls. She left the room, her mind already returning to the thoughts of Darian that seemed to haunt her every moment.

Darian walked across the thick and well-tended grass, the sound of chirping birds and the buzz of bees drowning out by his own thoughts. The memory of waking to find he was alone in his bedroom twisted his mind into painful nothingness. He had wanted to speak with Clarissa but she had taken herself quickly away as he had slept. He wasn't sure what else to do that could possibly bring her back to him; his only attempt that had not failed in the past was kidnapping her. That would not likely work this time, she was already his wife. In truth, he wasnt sure he had the right to ask her for any more than what she had already given him. Darians footsteps continued slowly toward nowhere in particular as he hid himself away in the gardens. He had come outside to escape the glaring eyes of his sister and sister-in-law, and the cold disapproval of Mrs. Rowley and her counterpart, Mrs. Pierce. He never thought that a great rake like him would ever be tortured by being surrounded by so many women.

The hot sun baked down on him seeming more comfortable then the heat of his own home on this day. It would most likely be a smart decision if he high-tailed it to London for a while, at least until things calmed down here at Whitterly. Darian was pulled from his cowardly designs by the sound of boots thumping on the flagstone courtyard in front of the Hall. He had not realized he had traveled so far and so fast in his wanderings until he looked up to see the owner of those boots. Arnold Brentwood came strolling up to him, a curious twinkle lighting his eyes. As Earl of Ludington, he had grown up in the area, taking his seat after the death of his father two years back. His familys great wealth had never caused the man to give in to lordliness as others in the ton had. Arnold was more modest and humble than any he had ever met amongst the ton or in the country. As such an upstanding and honorable gentleman, his circle greatly differed from Darian's. The young hellion that he had been had no chance of forming anything more than an acquaintance with the proper Earl of Ludington. The two men had been cut from such different cloths in their younger days that Darian had thought him to have been playing the part of heir too well. In comparison, Arnold had made the boastful and selfish man he himself had been in his youth seem unqualified to be the Duke of Whitterly. Since his return to Whitterly he had on many occasions turned Ludington away, servants carrying excuses for his lack of time. Whitterly, how goes it? Arnold asked. Quite well indeed, Ludington, and you? Darian lied. All is well; my sister sends her regards to you and your wife. Has your Duchess settled in? She has indeed; return our regards to your sister for me. He had always detested the small talk that was so popular with the ton but Darian waited to see what Arnold was about. He silently watched the man standing before him. Ludington's dark hair was stylishly cropped, his nails were neatly clipped, and his clothing was immaculate. The Earl seemed to grow even more perfect with agemuch to Darians annoyance. This man had always been everything that he himself could never be. Darian could still hear his fathers words of disappointment as he had spoken of Darian's lack of comportment as compared to Arnold Brentwood, heir to the neighboring Earl. In truth Darian had despised the young man, at times even teasing him unfairly just to satisfy his own wounded pride.

Darian was a different man now and experience guided his actions, seeing that this man had never done anything to inspire his anger let alone his disrespect. He vowed to make things right, determined to make up for his past foolery, Darian saw the look of discomfort in the mans stance and helped the stalled conversation along. "Are you positive all is well, Ludington?" He asked gently. "You look to be distressed. Is there anything I can do to help?" "Not so much distressed as anxious." Arnold stated. "I have actually come to seek your permission." "With what matter do you wish my permission for specifically, sir?" Darian inquired an eyebrow raised in interest. "Your sister; I wish to ask permission for her handto be specific!" He rushed to explain. "I had words with the former Duke as to marrying Miss Wellbrook, but no terms were ever finalized before his untimely death. I am thinking now that she has reached an appropriate age, and as she is sure to be a burden to your new bride, it would be an ideal time to offer for her." "Ah, I see. Was there a binding oral agreement between you and my father?" "I believe so; we had come to a financial accordance but never had a chance to put it onto paper as propriety dictates." "Was there also an agreement between you and Felicity?" "No, I did not believe that was necessary and neither did your father, the matter was held strictly between gentlemen of business." Darian knew that many marriages were finalized in this same manner but couldn't deny the ache that settled in his chest for the women involved. He would never be able to think of his sister, his blood, as a possession or a burden to be sold or traded like horseflesh. Obviously the Earl did not see things as he himself does or he would not be speaking of Felicity as he was. Ludington's statements also showed that he did not truly know Felicity, certainly not enough to know that she would never go along with such dealings. All things considered, the Earl of Ludington would be an excellent match, but he would not be the right man for an intelligent, beautiful, and spirited young woman like Felicity. She deserved better. She deserved to know she was with a man who loved her for who she is and not a man that only wanted to have a pretty young bride of no substance on his arm.

"If you wished my approval of the match you will need to seek my sister's agreement. I will not ask her to condemn herself to a marriage of convenience unless it is her wish." Darian watched surprised, as the calm and even tempered man's eyes turned dark and cold. "I am offended that you would not consider me a proper match for a Duke's sister, my class and wealth should speak for itself, and in time I am sure your sister would find feelings for me." The Earl of Ludington insisted. "Of that I am sure, I did not mean to offend, but you should be making your case with her and not me. I have given you my decision and that is final." "I understand, I will return to speak with Miss Wellbrook soon." Arnold nodded tightly and turned, walking swiftly away. Darian watched the Earl as he strode across the lawn toward the stables to retrieve his horse. Ludington's reaction had not been what he had expected but was understandable. No man's pride could stand up to rejection without a small falter now and then, he would soon return, his pride shored up and his determination unwavering. Darian was sure that the courting would begin and it was quite possible that the stuffy Earl would be forced to change his ways when faced with the strength of character in Felicity Wellbrook. Darian knew better than anyone else that his petite little sister was a force to be reckoned with. Felicity was indeed all that was expected of a girl of good family and title but with an intelligent and imaginative mind that seemed to be more and more uncommon in the females that inhabited the ton of recent.

Chapter 17
The ride into London had been uneventful, the girls had chatted endlessly, their travels an adventure. Clarissa on the other hand had sat quietly replaying each past moment of her life with every mile they traversed, attempting to figure out how she had strayed so far from her childhood dreams. They had reached town, Clarissa disappointed, without having found her answers, and the girls giddy with excitement. The contrast was apparent to all that greeted them at her family's townhouse; each servant sent concerned looks in her direction. She had thought the distance between her and Darian would improve her mood but sadly it had not. In truth, quite the opposite had seemed to occur. She had become easily irritated and short with all those around her; most had left her alone, leaving only Abby, her maid, to deal with the disgruntled Duchess. Clarissa had spent most of their first week in London closed up tightly in her room, refusing to leave, demanding to be left to recover from their journey to town. On the seventh day she lay quietly on a lounge set on the patio of her room, formerly her parents room, contemplating returning to Whitterly Hall. Tears burned her eyes at the realization that she had left Whitterly Hall, the home she had grown to love, and returned to her parent's home hoping that Darian would follow after her. He had not and Clarissa could no longer keep her girlish fantasies alive. She had been tossing thoughts and ideas about their relationship back and forth since she had met Darian, it was time to stop. One moment she wanted him and dreamt of their future together and the next she resented him for making her feel that love so deeply that it hurt when it was not returned. What a sorry and pathetic state she had allowed herself to enter; she had never been one to let a small failure bring her down. It was indeed time to face the facts and go on with her life, she could have happiness and contentment if she wanted it, all she needed to do was get up and get on with it. There were gowns to buy, teas and balls to attend, and most of all, there were two girls waiting to be introduced to society as she had promised them. The time to feel sorry for herself had ended and the time to enjoy herself had come. As a married woman she had much more freedom then she had ever had as a debutant, she could do almost anything that she pleasedat least until Darian turned up.

He'd have to come to town sooner or later, not for her but because he would be expected to make an appearance, and if not for society then to renew relations with his mistress. Clarissa pushed herself up from the lounge with a loud humph and walked to the bell pull, calling Abby to her room. The maid was quick on her feet and took only a moment to appear, her brow raised in question when she entered the room. "Yes, Your Grace?" She asked. "Abby, my dear, I thank you for coming so quickly." Clarissa said while giving the small maid an affectionate hug. "Inform my sister and sister-in-law that we will be leaving for the modiste in ten minutes, and they will need to be ready, we have much to do today." "Your Grace, are you alright?" Abby asked with concern. "It's time to move on Abby, I have sulked long enough! I thank you for your patience over the last week, you are a true friend." "Are you sure you're ready, Your Grace? You've had a hard time of it these last days." "Have I been as horrible as I imagine?" "Yes, probably even worse!" Abby said with a smile. "Mrs. Pierce did not like leaving Mrs. Rowley at Whitterlyshe has been grumbling quite loudly since we left. The rest of the staff has been worried you were going to fire them all while in the throes of one of your, all too common of lately, temper tantrums. Your sister and sister-in-law have worried sick over you, wondering if you would ever return to the land of the living the same woman as you once were. Not to forget, that you are with child and haven't been taking care of yourself." "I am indeed terrible! How have any of you put up with me?" She gasped, holding her palms to her cheeks. "Unfortunately they left you to me and I have a lot of patience, Your Grace." Abby replied dryly. "Abby, I'm not sure if you're a nuisance or a godsend!" Clarissa responded with a laugh. "but thank you just the same." "does everyone know I am with child? I didn't want the news spread until I have told the Duke!" "Mrs. Pierce told only a few of the staff members, just for the sake of your healthbut I would think it would be something your husband would realize on his own had he been spending much time in your bed." Abby informed Clarissa.

"I'd have to say that, as you well know, Darian and I have not been getting on very well of late and I doubt that he has taken the possibility into account." "You're probably right, Your Grace." Abby's words were in agreement but her expression showed her disbelief. "Let's forget about the mood I've been in lately, there's so much to do and we're going to enjoy ourselves from here on out. I promise!" "Yes, Your Grace, Ill inform your sisters of your expectations right away." Abby walked to the door, closing it quietly behind her as she left.

"Clarry, are you sure your all right?" Lily asked from across the carriage. "You still look a little pale. If you're not up to getting fitted for gowns today we can postpone it until youre feeling better. Felicity and I are in no rush." Lily fibbed while Felicity nodded emphatically in agreement. "No, no, I feel perfectly fine, don't worry yourselves over me." Clarissa dismissed the girls worry with a flippant wave of her hand, but in truth, her color was most likely due to the rolling of the carriage, which in turn caused a rolling in her stomach. "I am looking forward to this outing; I can't remember the last time we went shopping together." She smiled her expected excitement. "When mamma was alive," Lily reminded Clarissa sadly. Felicity, sitting close by, put her arm around Lily in a tender show of comfort, while both girls turned to look out the widow of the carriage. This morning's fit of nausea had been worse than most and it was getting harder and harder to hide her condition. One day soon she was going to have to tell everyone she was pregnant but she had hoped that she would be able to tell Darian first, which didnt seem possible any longer. Clarissa watched the girls interaction and realized that her marrying Darian may have done more good then she had originally believed. Lily and Felicity had become quick friends, helping each other through a difficult time in their lives. The bond between the girls was apparent to anyone with eyes. They had spent most of their days in each others pockets, finishing each others sentences when speaking, and giggling as they enjoyed private jokes. If nothing else came from her marriage to Darian, this would be enough, just being able to see Lily as the happy young girl she was meant to be was enough.

Lilys sadness slipped away as the day progressed; the modiste had the girls wading through bolts of fabric and patterns of all kinds. Clarissa couldnt help but to enjoy their day just as much as the girls. She had been encouraged by the freedom of her new societal position, choosing daring fashions in a palate of colors that had never been available for her. They would have been scandalous for her age and a fit had she still been a debutant. The day was turning out to be a delightful one that could be compared with no other. Clarissa sat contentedly in a lounge in the library going through invitations as the girls chatted happily while sitting in a settee across from her. Their words were spilling so quickly from their unrestrained lips that they seemed to be of a foreign language. Clarissa couldnt help but smile at the baffled look upon Mrs. Pierces face as she entered the library pushing the tea trolley. Have they been doing this since your return from the modiste? She asked of Clarissa. Yes, indeed! Isnt it wonderful? Clarissa smiled her enjoyment. I believe youre right my dear. Its been a long time since this house has been filled with this much girlish excitement. Too long, Mrs. Pierce, much too long, Clarissa stated. Ive been trying to decide which events would be the most advantageous to attend, Id appreciate your opinion. Clarissa handed the list she had compiled to the housekeeper for approval. Mrs. Pierce silently read over the names, nodding her agreement with Clarissas choices. I believe this list will suit your purpose perfectly, although you may want to add Lady Bonham's ball, your mother always said it was a sight to behold. She sat on the edge of the lounge lowering her voice to remove the girls from the conversation. When do you expect your husband to arrive? Clarissa blinked a few times unable to quickly find the words to answer the bold housekeeper's question. I do not expect my husband in the immediate future but I am positive he will turn up in his own time. Clarissa ducked her head, waiting for the lecture that usually followed. Mrs. Pierce had always had a way of making her feel as if she was still a little girl needing to be scolded. You would know best, Im sure, Your Grace. The housekeeper agreed then stood, turned and left the room without pushing the conversation any further, surprising Clarissa. Clarissa rested her eyes, laying her head back against the soft cushioning of the seat, hoping to gain a

little energy for the night to come. Balls tended to be long and arduous when it came to town life and the planned events for this evening would be no different. The London season was not to be taken lightly, that was for sure, it was a mixture of promises and business dealings, and often all rolled together into one. The season was more than an expensive form of entertainment; it was a well scripted hunt. The main attraction was the manipulative mothers who were all hopeful in capturing mates for their conniving daughters; the spoiled debutants in turn tracked gentlemen hoping to corner the best of the best. Then there were always the debutants of years past who now found themselves unhappy and alone as their new husbands entertained their mistresses. Those women would now poach upon others husbands, not for a life mate, but for a suitable affair to help them suffer through the trying season. She hoped never to be any of the members of the hunt, at least she could say she was not looking to replace her husband with another, no matter how unhappy her marriage. Drifting off to sleep, Clarissa dreamt of the man she wished to forget, the man she didn't want to want, her minds eye locking on the man she hoped to avoid for just a bit longer.

Darian sat brooding in his study, his mind refusing to concentrate on the papers before him that required his attention, instead, returning to the same speech he had given himself nearly a dozen times today. He had told himself over and over again that he was definitely not going to go racing after the silly chit like a tender pup as she most likely expected him to. He would not give her the satisfaction, he had his pride if nothing else. If she desired to be away from him then that was exactly what he was going to give her. She would come back to him, he was sure of it but if she didn't then that was the way it was meant to be. The inner turmoil that had been tearing him apart since he had returned to the house to find her gone was starting to affect his sanity. He spent most of his days arguing with himself, his mind was determined to let it all play out, but his heart insisted that he throw his pride aside and go and get the woman he so desperately craved. He had never before known the monster called loneliness as he knew the wicked creature now. Being able to sleep alone in a spacious bed had once been a luxury, but was now nothing short of torture, lost in a sea of empty silk that twisted around him with his every turn. He had

grown used to the comforting scent of her on his bedding, which had now dissipated all together, the loss kept him awake at night. The clean linens lacked the comfort and tranquility that he had grown to equate with her soft scent of lavender, the scent that often drifted through his mind. He so deeply missed the way she would turn to him in sleep, even when she had gone to sleep angry or aloof, her mind unaware of her body's need for connection, curling against him, tucking her lithe frame into his solid one, she would sigh, and her moist breath caressingly smooth against his neck. The warmth of her body now gone turned his blood cold, leaving him stiff with an iciness that no amount of blankets could alleviate. Darian was startled from his thoughts by Mrs. Rowley entering with a tray holding a plate of scones and a single tea cup. "Your Grace, it's tea time." The cook explained at his quizzical expression. "I thought you might be a tad hungry, since you had very little for breakfast this morning." "Indeed, I am a bit hungry, thank you, Mrs. Rowley." "I also brought you this message that Mrs. Pierce sent to me today. I thought perhaps you might be interested." Mrs. Rowley pulled a slightly crumpled envelope from her apron pocket, laid it on his desk, and quickly exited the room. She decided against waiting to see his reaction,she was sure she would be able to hear it from down the hall just as well as if she had been standing next to him. Darian picked up the envelope unsure of the game Mrs. Rowley was playing but curious none the less. He read the bold feminine script of the letter over once; then again to be sure he was truly reading the words he saw on the page. His fingers tightened on the page as he read the letter a third time disbelieving of the information. He folded the paper back into its original form and tucked it carefully back into the envelope from which it came, setting it on his blotter. Darian sat for a moment absorbing all that he had just been hit withhis little wife had underestimated him. Did she truly think he would not find out, that she could hide this? "Rodgers!" He bellowed, ignoring the bell pull, which probably would have been an easier way of summoning the butler. "Where the devil are you man?" Darian shouted as he stood, rounding his desk, striding into the hallway just in time to see staff bolting from their listening positions outside his study door.

Shaking his head he stalked to the foyer, still bellowing for the Rodgers who then appeared at the top of the stairs, sliding to a halt on the well waxed parquet flooring when he saw Darian at the foot of the stairway. "I need you to pack a bag for me and ready my carriage, immediately" "Yes Your Grace, right away!"

Darian's trip to London was made in record time and nearly killed the matched pair pulling his carriage. He'd never before in his life been careless with horseflesh but his mind had been focused solely on reaching Clarissa. He was a man on a mission, his mind filled with hurt and anguish from her deception, while his heart was clamoring for even the mere sight of his wife. He was a madman who craved her as he had never craved before; he craved the ambrosial scent of her hair, the velvety smoothness of her skin, the intoxicating taste of her perfectly full lips. He had never felt such contortion of his mind before, he wanted her to stay yet he didn't want to hold her to him. He wanted her to love him yet he didn't want her to give up herself for that emotion. He wanted to love her in return yet didn't want her to know the depth of his feelings. His life with Clarissa had so far been a sweet torture. Was this all it would ever be? He had expected love to be soft and calm, what he had with Clarissa was anything but. Either his ideas were wrong or they were wrong for each other, but which was it? Pushing the horses through the night had gotten him to London in the wee hours of the morning, not even the servants were stirring yet. Darian entered the house, the house he had gained from Clarissa's father when he had married her, the house he planned to be given to Lillian upon her marriage. All had been arranged when he had settled the estate with the agent. Darian had stood quietly on the sidewalk watching the house for movement, wondering which way would be the easiest to gain entry, before striding to the front door. This was, after all, still his house until Lily married, and this was where he would find his wife and sister. So why did he feel like an intruder? Darian pulled out the key from his jacket pocket and unlocked the door, thankfully; Mr. Grumbley had given him all necessary keys for his new properties at their meeting. Now that he was inside he stood unsure in the center of the foyer. He had never been in this house before and realized that he didn't even know where to find his wife's room.

Just then he heard the distant sound of shuffling footsteps coming toward him, with a sigh of relief, Darian waited for the steps to reach him. Strangely they seemed to turn off and head away from where he stood in the foyer. Darian turned toward a hall leading past the main stairway, possibly toward the kitchen, where he believed the watchman had gone. Walking carefully to keep from stubbing his toe or thumping his shin in the unfamiliar space, Darian followed the hallway to its end where he found a door. He opened the door, stepped inside to find what looked like a small library, looking around he waited for his eyes to adjust to the increased darkness of the room. Darian glanced around the room attempting to locate a bell pull, giving up on the idea of finding his room without waking the whole house. He reached for the pull but his fingers never touched the velvet rope. He felt the hit to the back of his head and stars flew in front of his eyes. Someone had just felled him like a great tree he realized as he hit the floor, but then all was lost as the blackness took over. Darian came back slowly, his head aching; he opened his eyes, and squinted at the light that now seemed to infuse the room. Tuttle, Clarissa's loyal footman, was crouched at his side, still holding his handy club and smiling happily at him as he lay prone on the floor. "Wouldn't expect such quickness from an old man, now would ya, Yar Grace. Didn't mean to pop ya so hard thar, thought ya was an intruder." Tuttle offered. "I make a few rounds at night just ta make sure my ladies don't come ta no harm. Ya understand don't cha, Yar Grace?" Indeed I do Tuttle. Darian assured him as he sat up, rubbing his swollen scalp but finding no blood. The man did indeed have a strong swing and a surprising strength for his agehe had to be eighty if he was a day old. Im glad you are here to protect my family, old man. What were ya sneakin about for, Yar Grace, if I may ask? I didnt want to wake everyone from their beds; I was hoping to find a watchman to point me to my rooms since Ive never been in this house before. I can do that, Yar Grace. Top of the stairs to the left it is, only room on that side of the house is the ducal apartments. He directed with a slap on Darians shoulder, nearly toppling him in the process. Thank you Tuttle. Darian smiled, understanding the reason this man was so loved by the Brighton family. He had wondered why they had kept a man of his age as a footman when most were sent out to pasture long ago; it was obvious to him now, that he was kept on out of pure

loyalty. The man would do anything for Clarissa and her sister, including clubbing an intruder to death in the library if needed. Off with you now, Yar Grace! Happy as a clam shell be ta see ya, yes she will be. The girls been mopin around here like a sad kitten for the last few weeks. Oh she puts a good face on for the others but I see her when she thinks no one is about. He shook his head in disapproval as he guided Darian back toward the stairway. Missed ya, she has, no doubt about it! Itll put a great cheer in that girls heart ta lay eyes on ya, I bet. Tuttle offered as he gave Darian a nudge toward the stairs. I hope youre not a betting man, Tuttle, Darian muttered. Youll, indeed, be a poor man if you are. Darian gratefully ascended the steps; he was definitely in need of a bed after his long journey and the cosh to his head. Thinking on the footmans words, Darian couldnt help but think the old man was not as mentally sound in his old age. Good night ta ya, Yar Grace. Tuttle waved Darian off as he went to his own room below stairs. Good night Tuttle.

Darian reach the door to the instructed room, opening it quietly as he entered, and stopping short when he realized Tuttle had sent him to his wifes bed. He had thought that he would have been given his own room as was customary in his classbut things were indeed looking up for him. Clarissa lay sleeping softly, her head pillowed on her hand, her lips pursed in dream. He had come here to confront the obstinate woman, but found himself too soft to wake her just to argue, better to let her sleep a little before they tangled words. Darian stripped quickly from his clothes and stole into bed, easing his body toward her, careful not to awake her, tucking her back against his front. Clarissa sighed, and then wiggled her rear, bringing her backside into full contact with his groin, making him curse softly. He was supposed to be angry with her but all he could think of at this moment was how wonderful it would feel to bury himself deep inside her. He had missed the feel of being this close to her, missed all that sharing a bed with his sweet and tempting wife entailed.

Darian groaned when his tormenting wife again rubbed her bottom against his now throbbing erection, arching her spine to increase the pressure. Unable to deny his need he wrapped his arm around her waist; reaching upward, and filled his hand with her swollen breast. Her budded nipple reached out to his palm, encouraging his caresses. He would have expected her to wake up with a start when she realized that he was in bed with her but strangely she didnt. The only conclusion he could come to was that she was either dreaming of a lover or awake and wanting what was happening between them. Deciding to test his theory he spoke to her. Clarissa, my sweet, are you here with me? He whispered his question softly into her ear, not wanting to wake her with a fright if she was indeed sleeping. DarianI have always been here with you! She purred, turning to face him her eyes closed loosely as she pushed her breasts against his chest, but her words were slurred with unconsciousness. Darian cursed as he watched her reaction, her words contradicting the truth he could see with his eyes. Her mind knew it was him but she was still dreaming, he couldnt help but smile through the pain. At least her dreams were filled with him. It gave him a little bit of hope to know that his wife enjoyed their relations so much that it carried over to her subconscious. Darian's quandary became even more vexing when his dear, sweet wife stretched her slender neck and planted her perfect lips squarely on his own. His battle was difficult enough without her nocturnal imaginativeness stripping him of the little self control he still held. She deepened the kiss, gliding her unpracticed tongue over his lips, caressing him with sweet teasing lips. He encouraged her dreamy foray, taking her tongue into his mouth, returning her caresses, but he allowed no more than a meeting of their lips, forcing all else to still. His body craved the possibilities of this situation, but his mind reminded him of what he knew of Clarissas nature. She would undoubtedly release her spirited temperament on him and he wasnt sure he could survive the wrath she would lay upon him for such an offense. To be taken unaware as in sleep no matter how much she begged in her state of dream, would hurt her prideful heart to the point where she would never put her trust in him againlosing all that was a marriage. Clarissa, please! Darian pleaded. You are killing me! His whispered supplication went unanswered as she continued her plundering. Darian tried to pull away, separating himself from her wanting lips, arching his neck to put distance between them. Her determined lips dropped to

explore his neck, stealing the breath from his lungs when she nipped at the sensitive skin below his ear. Clarissa, I beg of you! Please wake! Darian gasped as her sharp little teeth began to nip at his ear lobe. I am awake, Darian! She laughed without stopping her delicious nuzzling.

Chapter 18
Darian gripped her upper arms, pushed her away, wanting to see the truth for himself. His heart stopped when he saw the smile on her kiss swollen lips. Thank the Lord! He shouted to the ceiling, letting loose the weeks of built up passion that had filled him to the point of near combustion. Darian rolled, taking her under him, resting his hips in the gentle cradle of her thighs, closing his eyes at the joy of coming home. He had never in his life felt this overwhelming intimacy when with a woman, any woman, the overpowering rush of emotion was nearly his undoing! ClarissaI Darian started. Nono wordsno thoughts, I just want to be you and me, here together with nothing between us. She entreated. Then that is what you shall have, my love. Darian gave her all that there was in him to give, forsaking his reason for coming to London, snubbing the disaster that had become their marriage. He swept her nightgown from her body, ignoring the tearing sound he heard just before her body became fully open to his sight. The gown, now unnoticed, drifted to the floor, lying in a translucent puddle against the light color of the carpet. Darian had in no way forgotten the magnitude of her beauty, but could not help but think that she had changed, she had somehow become more beautiful. He was stunned by the radiance in her gaze, held enchanted by her creamy skin, utterly captivated by her full breasts tipped with large, rose colored buds. Her body was made to be cherished. He wanted to be patient and tantalize her with his every touch, but could not find the strength to restrain himself. It had been so, so long since they had been together in this way; even Clarissa was overcome with eagerness. He couldn't stop his gasp of arousal as she pulled her small rounded nails gently across his flesh, dragging her fingers from his shoulders down across his waistline, continuing on to his buttocks, and then retracing her path. Each pass of her nails sent lightening shivers down his

spine and unconsciously made him rub his hardened member over her heated core, encouraging her to repeat her fraying touch. He nuzzled her plump breasts, enjoying the softness of her skin against his stubbled cheeks, laving each budded tip in heated haste. He moved his hands along her flesh, their work hardened roughness a quick contrast to her feminine smoothness. He sent his fingertips whispering across every sensitized expanse he could find until she was shuttering beneath him. Her breath which had begun as excited pants at his manipulations, soon changed to sobbing moans of need, which pleaded for his touch. Darian could wait no longer, tilting her hips up off the bed, perfecting the angle of penetration, he slid deep inside the overheated wetness that he had come to know as Clarissa. Keeping his thrusts slow and steady he pushed her farther and farther, her nails clawed at his back as she held her breath, her body tensed and awaiting the explosion she knew would come. The moment was upon them without mercy, quickly and fiercely, pulling shouts from them both, rocking the earth beneath them, leaving them shattered among the silken sheets, twisted into a soft cocoon. I have missed you dearly, my love. Darian murmured as he drifted off to sleep with his wife held tightly in the circle of his arms.

The only passenger of a pitch black carriage sat in shadow, a forgettable driver perched at the reins waited for the signal to move on. The dark of night mingling with the gray of morning brings me the peace you have taken from me. Has he burdened his whore with child yet, I wonder? Has he brought her the glow of womanhood, made her more than a wife in name? The desperate figure sat deep in darkness watching the quaint London house, a home meant for a family, atypical of the normal housing requirements of societys top. The windows were all dark at this hour, not revealing even a hint of a candle still burning, telling of the time. This time of day seemed to be avoided by most, a time populated only by the few who were most likely on their way home from misdeeds and the few who were out looking for misdeeds yet to be accomplish. Which one this passenger was could not be told except that the quality of travel seemed too decadent to be just anyone but still much too undefined to be anyone in

particularall by purpose more than coincidence. All information led to a forgone conclusion that this was a definite misdeed at work in some form or another. Those who go out in search of prey do not want to be seen or recognized, their success lay in their ability to hunt. The true hunter can stalk their quarry letting them know they are there but never to be seen with the eyes in person or deed. "I will return to you my dearest, you can count on that. The shadowed form leaned forward, tossed the stub of a still lit cheroot out the open window of the carriage. The cherry tip arced to the ground, rolling, bouncing, and coming to rest in the center of the street. That fool has kept us apart for so long, but I promise all will come together as it should. With a swift tap of a gentlemans cane the passenger signaled the driver to move on. Home my Lord? The driver asked. Yes, home Barnard.

Clarissa stood at the window, hidden in darkness, surrounded by the curtains that were floating against the soft breeze blowing outside. The coolness of the air drifting through the open window slid against her skin making her eyes close in honest pleasure. She had awoken a half hour ago to find herself blissfully entwined in the arms of her husband, unable to regret the actions that had landed her there, yet still unable to fight her conscience. He seemed to have appeared out of her dreams, giving her all that she had missed these last weeks of separation. There was no going back any longer; there was no way she could pull away from him again, even if she did have the strength. Her heart was broken along with her once indestructible spirit. Tears of morning, a show of the sadness at the loss of all she had treasured enveloped her, her soul, her self-respect. This man had become all that she was, and the loss of any hope that she may, in turn, be all that was him, painfully twisted her heart. "Clarissa?" Darian's voice broke into her thoughts. "I'm here." She twitched aside the curtain letting him see where she was, a silent tear still glistened on her cheek in the moonlight. Darian looked her over in the low light of the full moon and saw the small differences in her slight frame. Her breasts were larger and her smooth stomach was now roundedin his eyes all he could see was her amazing beauty. She seemed to stand more proud, her skin seemed to bear a glow, and her whole being showed the mark of their child that she was carrying.

"Why didn't you tell me Clarry?" He asked quietly. "Tell you what, Darian?" Her tears now streamed silently down her smooth cheeks. "Tell you that I was with child, tell you that you succeeded? Have you come to gloat?" She whispered fiercely at him. "You have your heir now, so why have you come here? Isn't your mistress waiting for you?" She turned back to the window refusing to let him see the pain that was wrenching her apart inside. "Clarissa, how could you say such things? I have missed you, only you." Darian stood, coming to stand behind her. "Did you miss me in particular or just what we share together when we make love?" She raised her hand to stop his answer. "I don't want to hear your answer, it's too late." She shook off his hand when he placed it on her shoulder, trying to turn her toward him. "I will be your duchess, I will be by your side, I will do what would be expected of me in public, but that is where it will end, there will never be anything more between us. You will have your heir and your life will be your own." "That is definitely not what I want, but for now, I think this would be better to discuss in the morning, come to bed Clarissa." He led her to the bed glad that she had not fought him anymore. Which was precisely what scared him most, her lack of fight, she seemed defeated. Clarissa curled into him, her softer frame folded tightly into his harder one, her body fit against him with perfection. She fell fast to sleep cradled in his arms, his body savored the long missed feel of his wife, the ever absent smell of her hair. Darian had started to give up hope that he would ever have her back, thinking that she was lost to him. Now having her in his arms it seemed that all was returned, with time anything was possibleif she loved him. There would be plenty of time.

Darian woke to the smoky gray of morning; Clarissa was still curled tightly into the curve of his side, the palm of her hand now resting over his heart. There was much to be done he decided, assumptions and miscommunications had ruined his relationship with his sister and his wife. It was past time that he had a long talk with his sister and also with Lily. She deserved to know that the house in London, the house they were sleeping in, was actually hers along with a lump sum of a good amountan excellent dowry for any young lady.

There was also the meddling ways of a certain woman who need to be dealt with. Elmira had intentionally tried to interfere with his relationship with Clarissa and it was time to put the woman in her place, a place that Was far away from him and his wife. Darian untangled himself from Clarry, dressed, and left the room quietly, letting Clarissa sleep while he took care of the troubles of their marriage, before he took his wife back to Whitterly Hall, where he planned for them to spend the rest of their happily married life.

Clarissa stretched, lying flat on the bed she rolled onto her stomach, extending her arms above her head. The soft light of dawn pushed its way through the drapes, a muted glow warm and comforting smoothed across the bed, reaching like a loving hand to caress her cheek. Clarissa took a deep breath releasing it in a humming sigh, turning her head she looked to where she expected Darian to be, but found a single bloom instead. A fresh cut virginal white tulip sat nestled upon the pillow on the opposite side of the bed. Clarissa picked up the flower, brought it to her cheek, the softness of the silky petals brought a smile to her lips as the door opened. Darian stood just inside the room, a tray laden with goodies in his hands and a perky Abby following close behind carrying in clean water. With a brilliant smile, the maid filled the basin on the dresser with steaming water, and left quickly with an odd little bounce in her step, if Clarissa wasn't mistaken. "I'm glad to see you are awake, my love." Darian set the tray on the bed over a now sitting Clarissa. "I brought you a mlange of breakfast, the choice is yours." Clarissa smiled, unsure of how to act, unsure of what to say. She chose to remain silent for the moment. Picking a miniature roll from the tray she concentrated on eating, her eyes glued to the pastry as she waited to see what would come next. Darian watched Clarissa pick at her breakfast, unable to hide his amusement, she seemed so shy this morning, no doubt wondering where they were going to go from here as he had been when he woke this morning. As mornings go, he found this one had been one of the best that he could recall. Waking to find a curvaceous woman cuddled against you, her legs tangled with yours, her lips just lightly brushing your neck, her sweet breath a feather on your skin. Complete and utter heaven, it was all that a man could ask for in his opinion.

"Clarissawhen is the babe due?" He asked quietly, not wanting to get her hackles up. "I ask, not in judgment, but in curiosity." He quickly added, seeing her beginning to rebuild the wall that he had hoped they had cleared away the night before. "Early springand yes I am positive that it is yours." She snapped at him, her eyes radiating with the pain and doubt that he had caused. "Of that I have no doubt, my love." He responded calmly with an amused smile. "Now that I am here in town, I have a few matters I need to attend to. I will be back before luncheon." He gave her a swift kiss and was up, striding to the door. "And ,Clarissa, my sweet, you are to remain abed until I return if you wish to attend the ball our sisters have been chattering about all morning." With a parting smile he left. Clarissa snorted at his arrogance but couldn't help but admit that a day, resting in bed, did sound appealing, even more so if he had stayed with her. Shaking her head at her own pitiful wantonness, she picked up the book from the nightstand, and immersed herself in the story.

Clarissa was standing by the window when she saw a familiar carriage slow to a stop before the front of the house and stop, a vaguely familiar man stepped down, and walked to the front door. She couldn't put her finger on where she had seen the carriage before but after a minute of thinking she recognized the man as Arnold Brentwood, Earl of Ludington, Maddy's neighbor. She couldn't help but wonder what business had brought the earl to their home. She would not likely find out since Darian had not yet returned, and she was sure he had left instructions that she was not to be disturbed. She was curious but not enough to want to have to attend to the pestiferous man. For once she was thankful for her husbands autocratic ways. After seeing the Earl leave, Clarissa climbed back into bed, and pick up where she had left off in her novel, returning herself to the romance of the tale.

The Earl was handed back out onto the street without the satisfaction of having completed his business. He knew the Duchess was at home, he had seen her in the upper window when his carriage had pulled into view of the house. The insult of it all made his blood boil, to think that a man of title and family was turned away from the door of a family of titleit just wasn't done. Arnold walked to his carriage, leapt up and sat without waiting for the steps to be lowered by the footman who was just then jumping down from the back of the carriage. Once in his seat

he growled his orders to head to White's Gentlemen Club and banged impatiently with his cane to signal his readiness to move on. The stunned footman jumped back aboard just before the horses yanked the carriage forward at the insistence of Barnard, the driver, heading away from the house.

Clarissa woke to a feathery soft kiss gliding across her cheek the clean woodsy smell of her husbands soap tickling her nose. Refusing to open her eyes, she lay on her stomach in the center of the bed, a pillow tucked under her hips, allowing room for her growing belly. She stretched her arms above her head, not ready to be awake, a humming moan escaped her lips as she wiggled, snuggling down farther into the covers and away from Darian's teasing. "Up with you now, time to get dressed for luncheon, Clarry." Darian spoke; his voice was soft and filled with mirth making the words come out in a singsong. "No more sluggardly doings allowed out of you, my sweet wife!" "Out with you, husband, have you no manners? I carry your child, I need my rest. Mrs. Pierce said so! Go ask her!" Clarissa chastised, her voice muffled by the covers. Darian deciding to end this argument as quickly as possible, pulled the covers from the bed, whipping sheets and blankets in one off the bed and onto the floor. What remained on the bed left him dry mouthed and lustfulClarissa lay nearly naked in a white gauzy and transparent night rail, her rear propped in the air on a pillow like an offering to the gods, laid out on a silver platter. Her hair lay in an inky cloud of silk as it strung across the pillow, her palm tucked under her soft cheek, one knee drawn up, her gown pulled up to expose her thighs, the rest of the material tucked under her pulled tight framing her delectable little rear end. Darian couldn't help himself. In his mind, there was no other option. No sane man would pull a beautiful woman from her bed when he could just as easily join her there insteadand let it never be said that he wasn't a sane man. Lifting his knee onto the bed he slid himself up until he was crawling over her prone frame. Inch by inch he moved up the bed. Sitting back on to his feet he waited to see if she was awake, if she would refuse his intentions. Her soft snores continued; a bubbled laugh escaped his throat sounding odd even to his own ears. His mind could not decide on which route to take in this situation, how to wake her, how to let her know that he was mindless with lust at that very moment.

He watched his hand move as if he was outside of himself, his mind no longer controlling the movements of his body. His self-willed hand touched the back of her delicate knee, the skin unaccustomed to the gentle touch of a lovers hand twitched in pleasure. The single-minded hand then slid up her strongly muscled thigh, fingers spreading, reaching for the firm globes of her rear, pushing up the gown as they moved.

Clarissa's mind came awake slowly unlike her body which was now attuned to each touch, to every caress, her body nearly vibrated from his petting. Her hips rose off the bed, undulating with her need, begging for his touch. Her breath was coming in little pants; her eyes were tightly closed in repression rather than loosely closed in slumber. His touch moved on. Now sure of her response, he pushed her farther, his pelvis pressed tightly against her bottom as he reached forward. She could do nothing but feel the evidence of his arousal rubbing against her as his fingertips went running along the line of her spine. His hands cupped over the balls of her shoulders then smoothed down her arms to find the mattress below her. Pressing his palms flat on the bed beside each of her shoulders he lowered himself atop her, their bodies touching from knee to shoulder. A long moan escaped her lips; the unadulterated pleasure in the sound hardened his erection tenfold, jerking his hips in firmer contact with her corresponding softness. Pushing himself up, Darian pulled the impeding night rail from her body, tossing it off the side of the bed, freeing her naked form, a sharp contrast to his own, which was still fully clothed. Darian freed his erection from his pants, refusing to take the time need to undress. He wouldn't last that long. Pulling her bent knee up father, placing his palm on the base of her spine, he slid deep inside her warm and wet core, her rear rose to meet his thrust. The gentle curves of her bottom pressed against him with each grinding penetration, her lungs expelled high pitched cries, panting, begging and pleading for the shattering release that was torturously close. Darian had never been so overwhelmed by the act of making love. The indescribable pleasure of her heat held tightly, pulsing around his hardened member taking his mind away. Words tripped, falling from his tongue before having been approved by his brain, emotion fogged his mind, blinded his eyes. Bright white light exploded before him.

Their release come simultaneously, dragging grateful yells from them both, their breathing harsh and ragged. Darian slumped, his limp frame dropped down to lie next to Clarissa. "I wonder if they waited luncheon for us. I am kind of hungry now." Clarissa stated her voice still somewhat wilted with exhaustion. "I highly doubt that, my dear." Darian responded with a bark of laughter. "If you want, I can fetch you something to eat." He offered. "Ooh, I'd dearly love some of those little spice cakes that Mrs. Rowley makes. Did you by any chance bring her with you to London?" "She arrived this morning, my love, and I do believe I remember her saying something this morning about spice cakes and expectant mothers cravings." Darian informed her. Sliding from the bed he retied his pants, giving her a rueful smile when she arched her brow in observation of his state of dress. "Husband, since you are the only one still left with clothing it would only be fair that you fetch the much needed nourishment." "Without haste, my love!" He said sheepishly as he rushed out the door. Clarissa flopped to her back, lying naked in the center of the huge bed; she smiled to herself as she dozed lightly and awaited his return. Darian had referred to her as his love numerous times now. Was it possible that he was speaking from the heart? She was too happy to doubt herself or him at this moment. Not to mention they were attending the Bonham's ball tonight, the most anticipated event of the season, invitations were exclusive, and its entertainments were beyond comparison. And they were going. The thought of waltzing with Darian made her shiver from head to toe.

Chapter 19
They arrived at the Bonham's at a fashionable hour, and waited patiently to be received by their hostess, as did most of London it seemed. It would indeed be the crush that Clarissa had expected, her mother had always exclaimed over the Bonham's ball. In the past she would have dreaded the idea of being crammed into a ballroom with hundreds of people, but not tonight she wanted to see and be seen on the arm of her enviably handsome husband. After entering the ballroom it was impossible to doubt that she was the envy of every woman and the desire of every man here tonight. They made a splendid couple and no one could take the euphoric pleasure that had stuck with her after their lovemaking. Her day so far had been more wonderful then she could ever have wanted. Darian had returned with her delicious little spice cakes, feeding each one to her and then kissing each crumb from her body. They had stayed in bed and let the day flow past them, time stopping around them, locking them in a capsule of peace and love. Tonight would simply be an extension of their afternoon together, Clarissa would accept nothing less. "I believe the first waltz is mine, dear wife." Darian informed her waiting with a raised brow to see if she had any ideas of denying him. "I believe you are correct, dear husband, I am yours." She responded with a knowing smile. "Indeed you are, my love, forever mine, and mine alone, if I have anything to say about it." He stated matter-of-factly, daring her to refute him. Darian pulled her into his arms, tugging her a little closer than was proper, smiling at her gasp of awareness. The music started, its rhythm sending them twisting and turning among the other couples on the dance floor. He easily guided them through while still keeping her close. It seemed as if they were the only ones there, their eyes met and all else faded away into the background, leaving her all alone held in his arms. Clarissa refocused her eyes, remembering they were in a crowded ballroom, looking around she noticed pointed fingers aimed in their direction along with words hidden behind silk gloved hands and Chinese fans. They were the talk of the ball. Turning back to Darian she gave him her most brilliant smile, giggling a little when he missed a step but caught himself quickly.

The dance ended leaving Clarissa a little more winded in her expectant state then she had been in the past. Darian left her on a settee in a secluded corner while he went off to procure her a glass of punch. Walking away with a quick but assured glide he went to do her bidding. Just as he was out of sight, a voice intruded on her happiness. "Your Grace, how lovely to see you here tonight, I had thought that Darian had come to take you back to the country where you belong." Elmira smiled sweetly in complete contrast to the venomous words that had just seconds ago dripped from her lips. "I have no idea as to what you mean, My Lady. Darian and I are perfectly happy to be here together tonight." Clarissa gritted out past her clenched jaw. "As I recall of our conversation this morning that is not what he had intended." She smiled smugly at Clarissa's stunned look. "Oh, yes, didn't he tell you that he saw me this morning? He was very intent on speaking with me; we had very important matters to discuss, mostly regarding his unfortunate situation with you!" Seeing Darian approaching out of the corner of her eyes Elmira gave Clarissa her most pitying look and shook her head in disgust. "Poor, poor man, what is he to do with you now? Well, enjoy town as long as you can, I'm sure he'll be taking you back to Whitterly soon enough." Elmira went gliding away with her head held high, spine poker straight as she faded into the crowd in complete dismissal of Clarissa who still sat on the settee stunned, watching her exit. Clarissa turned back to the crowd around her once Elmira was out of sight. Her heart fell when she saw the pitying looks and heard the cruel snickers of the people who where close enough to have heard the conversation. Seeing her husband coming toward her through the crowd, his height giving her the advantage tonight, Clarissa jumped to her feet, and slunk along the wall toward the doors, which opened into the garden. Almost reaching her goal Clarissa let her guard down just a little and was ensnared, not by her husband but by someone much worseArnold Brentwood. The earl, the brother of her nemesis, was the very last person she wanted to deal with right now. "My Grace, how wonderful it is to see you here tonight. I have been hoping to speak with you for some time now." He bowed low, a smile plastered to his face. Clarissa had an uneasy feeling, she wasn't sure why, but something about this man did not ring true. He was too kind, too gentlemanly, too proper, in a wordfake.

"I do not think that now is that time, My Lord, I am in need of some air." Clarissa slipped by him with a glance over her shoulder, her eyes searching quickly and finding Darian's large frame in the crowd. In the arms of Elmira Brentwood.

Clarissa fought her way past the groups of debutants and dandies cluttered just outside the doorway, each knowing it was best to stay within sight of their chaperones. Once free and into the open air she took several deep breaths, hoping a plan would form in her deluged brain, if only she could just clear the muck away, the overwhelming emotions that came with pregnancy. It was hard to separate them, parts of her wanted to cry and parts of her wanted to string her husband up on the front gate. Husband indeed, she had been very foolish, there was no other way to put it. What a ninny she was, to be taken in by pretty words and some knowledgeable petting. It was time to leave the party for sure; there was no way she was staying here. She would just end up making a scene. The horrid man! Clarissa kept muttering to herself as she paced back and forth in a darkened corner of the terrace, plucking the petals one by one from a silvery white rose she had yanked from a nearby flower arrangement. "Clarissa, are you all right?" Felicity asked. Clarry jumped at the girls sudden appearance. "Yes, fine, just fine, go back to the ball my dear I just needed some air, I was just feeling a little crowded." Clarissa gave her a small dismissive wave then continued her wild ranting. Felicity gave her a disbelieving look with a raised brow and pulled a lounge chair near and sat patiently. "Clarryplease tell me what's wrong, you're frightening me." Felicity pleaded. "Felicity, I cannot discuss this with you, you love your brother and I do not want to be responsible for coming between you. Please do not ask any more of me." Clarissa turned, hiding the tears that had started to slide down her cheeks, not wanting the girl to see her weakness. "but Clarry he loves you, he truly does, he explained to me about my parents and about that strange man"

"No, Felicity, I will not discuss Darian with you!" Clarissa bellowed, clutching her small rounded belly. "What is it, Clarry, are you hurt, is it the baby?" Felicity stood, running to Clarry's side, settling her into the lounge. "I'll go get Darian!" "No, don't do that!" Clarry begged of the girl, I'll be fine. I promise. Just stay here with me a minute." "Miss Wellbrook, what are you doing out here alone? Oh I see you are not alone, such a proper girl, hello again, Your Grace." Arnold spoke as he came out onto the terrace. "Clarry, there you are, I've been looking all over for you. I was starting to worry." Darian sauntered out onto the terrace close behind Arnold, giving her a pout. "Bloody hell, just what I need!" Clarissa mumbled a little louder than she had planned, but at least the stabbing pain across her belly had stopped. "Pardon me?" Both men questioned. Clarissa glared, refusing to answer either man. "Well, no matter, I just came to gather Miss Wellbrook for the dance she promised me. Off we go my dear!" Arnold offered, holding his arm out for her. Felicity looked from her brother to his wife, unsure of what to do, yet knowing that they would have to settle matters between themselves. She had learned her lesson; she was never again going to put her nose where it didn't belong. Taking Arnolds arm she let him lead her back into the ballroom and onto the dance floor where a quadrille was just starting up. Clarissa moved away from Darian, farther into the gardens and farther away from the ballroom doors. Sure that there was no longer a way to save them from making a scene. Darian followed, not letting her get away from him, the promise of a fight in his eyes. "Clarissa, what is the matter? Please stop moving away from me." He pleaded. "What is the matter? You have the nerve to ask me such a thing after what you have done?" She spit the words at him with bitterness. "You may be determined to deny us a true and proper marriage but hear me now, Darian Wellbrook; I will not allow you to make a fool of me with you unfaithful ways. You deny the truth to me with your words, but there is no mistaking the hypocrisy in the way you hold your mistress while in the same ballroom that I stand. I will not have it I tell you!" She shouted at him, bringing her palm down to rest over her rounded belly.

"No, Clarry, please hear me!" He begged. "Go away from me. Leave!" She screamed, her voice breaking with the emotion that seemed to come with the breaking of a heart. Darian stared at her a moment, unsure of what to do, yet sure that pushing this could lead to damaging either her health or possibly that of the baby's. He slowly backed away from her, turning as he strode back to the ballroom. He saw Felicity upon walking through the terrace doors, grabbing her arm, he ordered her to go to Clarissa, and not to leave her side. Felicity did as she was told, not questioning him, seeing the fear etched in his face; she raced through the doors toward where he had left Clarissa. Darian meanwhile went in search of Lily who was never very far from Felicity. He found her near the punch bowl and directed her toward her sister while he readied the carriage. Hopefully Clarissa would at least let him make sure she got home tonight.

Arnold moved silently through the shadows, hidden by the darkness in his proper dress blacks. Felicity was striding ahead of him, her pace showed she was worried yet not quite frantic. Thanking the gods as he realized the opportunity he had stumbled upon while overhearing the conversation between her and Darian. He could finally get his love alone and take care of that harlot all in one shot, with only the foolish husband to blame for the death. Life was grand when a plan finally come together right before your eyes. Arnold knew it was important to wait for Felicity to find Clarissa before he made his move, waiting until he could be sure that he had them both in the sights of his pistol. Felicity, brilliant girl that he knew she was, soon found Clarissa sitting quietly on a stone bench in a clearing a good distance from the house, but still in the flickering glow of the lanterns. Arnold pulled his pistol from under his coat, holding it close, he waited for just the right moment. The cold metal brought a smile to his face, fate always smiled on those who were loyal to their dreams, tonight was his reward for never wilting under the misfortune of the last weeks. She was so beautiful sitting there, the woman he had dreamt of being with for the rest of his days, the woman who would happily run his household, the woman who would eagerly bear his heirs, his fianc. He knew they would be so happy, he and Felicityman and wife.

Arnold decided there was no time like the present, tucking the hand holding his pistol behind him, he strolled into the clearing. "Good evening, my dear, it must be fate that we keep crossing paths tonight." He smiled brightly, his eyes focused on Felicity. "My Lord? Umm, now is a bad time, my sister-in-law is feeling a little ill, perhaps I could see you another time." Felicity spoke politely but with a definite dismissal in her voice. Arnold snarled in response, startling both Felicity and Clarissa. "Do not speak to me with such dissidence, my dear, or I will surely make you regret it!" He growled, pulling the pistol from behind his back. "Stand please. It's time we moved on." He waved the pistol directing them both toward the thickening woods at their back. "Arnold, what are you about?" Clarissa asked. "You will address me properly, as is my due, you harlot. You are nothing without your wretched husband and he will hang soon enough. You have left me without options, forcing my hand to this." He ground out angrily. "All my work washed away when you tossed up your skirts for the idiot. All I had to do was burn down a few buildings, direct a few men where to collect a long owed debts. It was all so easy. I had him just where I wanted him, and you ruined it. You ruined it all!" It was then, hearing the strange words come from the once tight-laced man that Clarissa realized they were in trouble. Arnold had obviously gone mad. "You did all that, Arnold, I mean, My Lord, why?" She questioned trying to slow their pace into the deeper, thicker woods, hoping someone would hear them. "You ask why, you stupid bitch? I did it for love. I did it for my fiance, of course," He stated simply, his gaze softening as it touched Felicity. "My Lord, your fianc? You mean Felicity? She is naught but a child, how could you think to marry one so young, how could she possibly be your fiance? Have you spoke with her brother? I'm sure if you called upon Darian he would consider your offer." Clarissa stopped their trek through the brush, turning, waiting for an answer, hoping to rationalize with his madness. Clarissa's head turned with the crack of his open palm against her cheek, heat spread across her skin, her eyes tearing in pain.

"She is mine! Promised to me by her father, she is perfection; her beauty and good blood make her worthy of my intentions. How dare you question me?" He cried. "As it is, you have made my chore more difficult with your deplorable example. She was once an easy going child who could have been gently molded to be a proper wife, at least until her idiot brother allowed you to influence her, encouraging her to speak freely and gallivant around the neighborhood like a common scullery maid. She has at least had the good sense to behave tonight." He spoke, pulling Felicity from behind Clarissa, tucking her against his side. "Don't worry, my sweet, I am a gentleman, I will savor your innocence on our wedding night and not a moment sooner, even though I would like nothing better to sample you here and now." He spoke softly, his breath brushing bitterly against Felicity's cheek. His threats brought hot tears to the girls eyes and a scared cry from her throat. Arnold in his crazed state gave no notice. "My Lord, what do you plan to do with us?" Clarissa asked trying to pull his attention from Felicity. "I'm glad you asked, I plan to kill you, leaving your body to be found by the guests who will undoubtedly blame your husband after all that has happened here tonight, thanks to my whore of a sister convincing you that your husband was having an affair with her. You are a stupid woman if you believed even one word that came from her deceiving mouth. Darian never wanted anything to do with her." He smiled down at Felicity who was still crushed to his side. "Then my love and I can run away to Gretna Greene and be wed. Doesn't that sound ideal, my pet?" Felicity's tears increased with fear, her lips trembling too hard to form a response to his deranged plan. Felicity looked around for an escape but saw nowhere to run. Catching a glittering spark in the distance, she stiffened her spine and stifled her tears, keeping her eyes averted as she watched the object move closer in her peripheral vision. Glancing at Clarissa she saw that she had also seen the object moving toward them from behind Arnold. Clarissa, kept asking questions, determine to stall all that she could, hoping that whatever or whoever was moving toward them was there to help. She had to shake off two more slaps for her insolence, but she gained enough time to allow her to see Darian barreling through the brush. Clarissa pulled Felicity from his shocked and loosened grasp just as Darian knocked the man to the ground, wrestling over the pistol still grasped in Arnolds hand.

The men rolled over the ground, each fighting for dominance over the other. Punches swung wildly, some landing on targeted jaws, some landing wide. Suddenly a shot sounded in the dense night air, shock bringing screams from both Clarissa and Felicity. They waited huddled together waiting to see which man would emerge from the crumpled mass of flesh that had become Darian and Arnold's battle of strength. Lily came running into the clearing holding her arms out waiting to be enfolded in Clarissa's embrace as Darian got to his feet. He swayed a few steps before righting himself, he looked up to find Clarissa's gaze on him. He gave her a steady nod before sitting on a nearby log to catch his breath as he heard the crowd of the search party coming near. "Clarry, did he hurt you?" Lily asked. "The search party should be here any minute if they heard the pistol fire. I saw Arnold take you into the woods at gunpoint so I went and got Darian."

Darian sat watching his wife sleep, her hair gracing his pillow while her palm pillowed her cheek. Her rosy cheeks puffed quietly with her breath, her lips pink and pouting in slumber. Standing, he went to the door and answered the soft knock that signaled that Lily and Felicity wanted to take their turn at sitting with Clarissa. "Still sleeping?" Felicity inquired. "Yes," Darian quietly responded. The girls settled themselves in as Darian left the room, going to his own room to take the bath in the tub that should now be waiting for him. He was in great need of rest. He had been sitting with Clarissa for two days while she slept on, the doctor assured him it was nothing more than exhaustion and stress that held her in sleep, but he was starting to have his doubts. He had never seen anyone sleep as long as she had been asleep. Fear was starting to creep into his mind. He didn't want to be without her ever againhell, seeing that bastard slap her and wave a pistol at her had made his heart stop. He would never be sorry for killing that mad man. Arnold had very nearly taken everything from himhis wife, his child, and his sister. In the next room Clarry awoke to find two pairs of brilliant blue eyes watching her intently, their faces forlorn. "Am I dying?" She asked Lily and Felicity, her throat a little scratchy.

The girls giggled breaking the eerie silence in the room. "Of course not Clarry, you've been sleeping." "You look this concerned because I've been sleeping?" She asked disbelieving. "For two days now." Lily informed. "Two days, really?" She gaped at them. They nodded in answer. Looking questioningly between themselves they smiled, turned toward Clarissa and filled her in on what she had missed recently. They explained the truth behind the nonexistent relationship between Darian and Elmira, the story of Mr. Grumbley visiting, and Felicity mistaking him for someone Darian was going to marry her off to, then to top it all off, they told her of Darian's gift for Lily's dowry. Deciding Clarissa was feeling better and more prepared for knowing the truth, the girls left her to her thoughts.

Clarissa pulled her silk robe tighter around herself as she sneaked into the room Darian had been using for the last two days. She could hear the sound of water quietly splashing from behind a screen set up near the fireplace. Tiptoeing closer she peered around the screen to find Darian chest deep in a warm bath, steam spiraling up from the clear water. Clarissa couldn't help but smile at his positionat least he wouldnt get away from her before she had a chance to apologize. Stepping from behind the screen she spoke to him. "Do you need your back washed, husband?" She asked coyly. Darian turned quickly toward the sound of her voice, splashing water all over the carpeting. He stared at her but said nothing. Clarissa swallowed hard; wishing he would speak to her, he could say anything as long as he spoke to her. "Darian, I am so sorry! I don't know if you can ever forgive me for doubting you, but I hope you will." Tears of regret washed down her cheeks. So much had come between them, so much had been misunderstood. When she still didn't receive an answer she turned, ready to leave the room, to leave him to his bath. "There is nothing to forgive, My Love." He spoke quietly.

Clarissa turned back to see the smile on his face, his arms outstretched, beckoning her closer. "Oh Darian, I love you so much!" She cried, racing into his arms, falling into the tub in the process. "And I love you, Clarissa. I'm sorry for misguiding you from the beginning, you were right. I did have ulterior motives; I was determined to have you from the very moment I met you. Can you forgive me?" He pleaded. "Oh my sweet, your ulterior motives were equaled only by my own. There is nothing to forgive, for I believe we are even on such matters." She offered her lips for his kiss, he obliged without hesitation. Water splashed over the side of the tub as he pulled her deeper into his arms. Its a good thing Mrs. Pierce insists that the footmen put an oil cloth under the tub. Darian laughed. I think we are going to need it.

Epilogue
Clarissa entered the nursery, trying to calm the excited cries of her children. "Boys, Boys, quiet now, I can't understand you if you all talk at once." Clarissa spoke with adoration. Her children were getting so big, growing right before her eyes. Their first child Darian Wellbrook II, heir to the Duke of Whitterly, was the spitting image of his namesake and father while the twins, Donavan and Damien, were more their mother in coloring and temperament. The twins were a full two years younger than their brother who had recently turned six. "Now boys, be very careful of your mama, she is carrying the next soldier to soon join your ranks." Brilliant blue eyes swung to the door with excitement. "Papayou're home." Damien spoke. "Yes, I'm home. Have you been good for your mama?" He asked, knowing the answer before they answered. "Father I put a frog in Mrs. Rowley flour binbut I said I was sorry, sir." Donavan answered hesitantly. "I put a snake in her cook pot, father, just a little grass snake, it only frightened her a little thoughthen I said I was sorry too. I swear papa!" Damien answered in turn. "And you, Darian, my boy?" Darian asked with a lifted brow of question. "I've been good, sir, I took the frog out of the flour bin and the snake from the cook pot for Mrs. Rowleyshe gave me those little spice cakes as a reward." He smiled. Darian ruffled the boys hair affectionately, looking at Clarissa for confirmation. "Indeed, Mrs. Rowley has taken to calling him her 'chevalier'." Clarissa responded with a proud smile. Darian looked over his boys, the twins mischievous and happy, Darian, proud and tall. A family, which was soon to be larger by one by the looks of Clarissa who was trying to pick the toys up off the floor, but was having great difficulty with her rounded belly in the way. "Clean up boys, soldiers wouldn't let their expecting mama pick up their toys for them. "Yes sir!" They saluted playfully, and set out to put the nursery back to rights. "Come, Wife, I think we should lay you down to rest. You should not keep walking the stairs up here."

"I'm sure you are right, Husband, but I can't seem to keep away." Clarissa responded with a happy smile. "I seem to have the same problem." Darian told her with a look of abashment. "I thought you were back from London rather early." She said with a smile. ###

About The Author:

Amanda Bixby, an avid reader and writer, picked up her first romance novel when she was sixteen and fell in love with the story. Having read hundreds of novels in many different genres she found her one true love--historical romance. The magic of a ballroom and the charm of a handsome duke drew her to write what she loves. She credits her writing success to her mother's encouragement and a romance writing class at her local community college that gave her the courage and the confidence to go for it. Books: The Scandal That Never Was--05/23/2011 The Duke's Ulterior Motives--06/21/2011