"I do believe you are right, Mrs. Longbottom," Kibble decided, and quite suddenly he dropped to one knee before Clarissa, took one of her hands in both of his, and lifted it gently to his lips. He pressed a reverent kiss to her fingers. "You must be an angel, for only an angel could turn our lord from the grim and gloomy Gus he was, to this laughing example. From this moment forward, my lady angel, you have my undying devotion. My life is yours."
Adrian groaned and rolled his eyes. Kibble had been his tutor as a lad, and was as much a parent in his way as Adrian's own mother and father had been. Unfortunately, it left him in a somewhat elevated position; part family, part staff, wholly annoying and above his station. He was also something of a ham, which just made everything worse.
"All right, Kibble," Adrian said dryly. "Enough. You shall scare Clarissa."
Kibble merely arched an eyebrow. His gaze was kindly as it drifted over Clarissa's grinning face. "You must mean I am scaring you, my lord, for the lady is nowhere near looking frightened."
Adrian smiled and bent to press a kiss to his wife's forehead, then turned her toward the door. "It has been a long journey. I am sure Clarissa would like a bath and then a short rest before dinner. Lucy, would you see her to her room?"
"Of course, my lord." The little blonde smiled widely and turned toward the stairs.
"Take her arm, please, Lucy," Adrian instructed. "I fear Clarissa's spectacles have been broken, and I
would not have her stumble and fall before we can replace them."
"Of course, my lord." The girl moved back to quickly draw her new lady's arm through her own, then led her more slowly to the stairs and up them.
Adrian watched until the two women reached the landing and disappeared up the hall, then turned to find that his staff had crowded around at his back to also watch them leave. He scowled, but they weren't paying any attention, so he cleared his throat irritably.
Kibble glanced at him sideways. "Are you coming down with a cold, my lord?"
Adrian sighed. This was the problem with staff who had been around when you were born, who had seen you running about the yard with your nappies drooping around your knees: No respect. Ignoring the distinct lack of proper deference, Adrian walked toward the salon door. "I would see everyone in here, please."
"Does that include your wife and Lucy? Shall I go fetch them back?" Frederick asked hopefully.
"Just get in here," Adrian snapped, pausing at the door to the salon and scowling until the group trooped past into the room. He then followed the last one in and pushed the door closed.
"One of you will have to pass this information on to Lucy once she returns, but I will not have you mentioning this conversation to Clarissa. In fact, I will fire the first person who speaks of it to anyone after this talk, including one another. I will not have her overhear one of you and worry. Is that understood?"
"Excepting, of course, when one of us tells Lucy," Kibble pointed out.
'Yes, yes, except then," Adrian muttered with a sigh.
Kibble had always made a point of correcting him. It was the man's opinion that communication was most important, and the most important part was getting it right.
"Very well, my lord," the man said, and he took up a relaxed yet attentive pose. "Please proceed."
Adrian's mouth thinned. The phrase please proceed was the same one Kibble had used when he wanted him to recite or explain something he'd taught Adrian. It always made him feel about ten years old, facing his tutor--which, of course, he was. At least, Kibble had once been his tutor.
Sighing, he let the matter go and said, "First off--as you heard me tell Lucy--Clarissa's spectacles have been broken and she cannot see well without them. It makes her a tad accident-prone, and she has suffered several calamities in town because of it."
"What kind of calamities?" Frederick asked.
Adrian hesitated, then decided it was better to tell them so that they were aware of what they were up against. "She has set teacups in laps she mistook for tables, tumbled down stairs, set wigs alight with candles, and things of that sort."
"Dear heavens!" Mrs. Longbottom murmured, concern creasing her brow. "We shall have to keep an eye on the girl until her new spectacles arrive."
'Yes, exactly," Adrian said. "Her maid is supposed to watch her, but the girl is not always around. Clarissa herself will not always allow it, and grows impatient with having to be nannied. So, I want you all to keep an eye on her. That chore takes precedence over everything else until she has her spectacles. I will not see her hurt."
"It shall be done," Kibble said firmly. "How long will it be before new spectacles arrive?"
Adrian shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet the man's gaze. He muttered, "I am working on that."
Kibble's eyes narrowed, and Adrian suspected the butler sensed his prevarication; the man had always been able to see through his lies. Before Kibble could question further, Adrian spoke again.
"This is not the only problem," he said quickly, regaining some of his earlier confidence. "There may be someone trying to harm Clarissa."
This brought expressions of surprise to the faces around him, and he continued, "Some of the accidents she has had may not have been accidents at all."
"How do you mean, my lord?" Mrs. Longbottom asked.
Adrian deliberated, but again decided it was better that they knew what they were dealing with. He did not truly believe that Clarissa would be under threat here. He was sure whoever had been attempting to harm her would not try again now that she was married to him and safely ensconced in his country estate. However, since Adrian had no idea why anyone would wish to harm her in the first place, he couldn't be completely sure, so he quickly explained about her fall down the stairs. He then told of her being pushed in front of the moving carriage, as well as the fall into the fountain, and the fire when her bedchamber door had been locked.
There was complete silence as everyone contemplated his information; then Kibble asked, "Just how long has she been without spectacles?"
"A while," Adrian answered evasively, then cleared his throat and said, "So, as you can see, I have some concern for her well-being, and would appreciate all of you keeping watch for strangers on the property, or anything that might do her harm."
"I will watch her night and day, my lord," Frederick vowed, apparently moved to chivalry by the tale of Clarissa's woe.
"I am sure that will not be necessary, Frederick," Adrian said dryly. "But I would appreciate you all being alert when you can."
"Very well, my lord, we shall watch her most carefully," Kibble agreed. "If that is all, perhaps everyone could get back to work?"
"Yes, that is all," Adrian said. As he moved to settle himself in a seat by the fire, he heard the rusde of clothing and the shuffling of feet as the salon emptied out, then glanced around with a start at the clink of a glass from the wheeled table that held the brandy. Everyone had left but Kibble, who was now pouring brandy into two snifters. Setting the glass cork back in the decanter, the butler carried the snifters over and handed one to Adrian before settling into the plush cushioned seat beside him.
Adrian wasn't at all surprised. This was a common ritual when Kibble wished to speak to him. His only concern was what the man might want to discuss.
"She has not seen your face," the man said. It was not a question.
Adrian's mouth hardened, and he glared into the cold hearth, refusing to respond.
"You said that her spectacles were broken. Why did you not get her a new pair ere bringing her here to Mowbray?"
Adrian shrugged resentfully, and raised his glass to swallow a good portion of brandy.
"You are afraid she will be repulsed by your face." Again, the butler's words weren't a question.
"I plan to get her new spectacles in a week or so," Adrian snarled, guilt making him angry.
Kibble was silent for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. He too peered into the empty hearth; then he asked, "Has she no money of her own?"
"What? Yes, of course." Adrian frowned. He knew Clarissa had money; his mother had mentioned to him that on the way back from one of their fittings she'd purchased a small bottle of perfume. He'd since learned that she'd received a small allowance from her inheritance ever since she'd turned twenty. Of course, all of it had been settled upon her on their wedding day, and some of the papers they'd had to sign that day had been to arrange money in an account she had access to. The rest was to be invested. "Why would you ask that?"
Kibble shrugged. "I just wondered, my lord."
Standing, the butler downed the last of his brandy, then carried the dirty glass with him to place it on the brandy table before leaving the room. 'You cannot keep her blind forever," were his last words as the door closed behind him. It was a comment Adrian was growing heartily sick of.
He glowered at the empty hearth and drank the rest of his brandy, then stood and moved to the table to pour himself another. He didn't need his butler poking at his conscience; it was already making enough noise on its own. It was screaming at him that surely Clarissa would be safer if she could see properly and recognize any approaching danger. It was also claiming that just knowing someone might be out to harm her would put her on alert, perhaps help to keep her safe. But he had arguments for each point. Surely,
upstairs. He would go tell her now that he would take her to the village tomorrow to see if they could arrange spectacles for her. That way he could not play the coward and change his mind again.
He had reached only the third step when he heard the muffled sounds of a commotion in front of the house. Pausing, he turned back and walked down to the door to pull it open, eyebrows rising at the sight of the second coach from the city pulling to a stop in the drive. As he watched, the door opened and a weary Keighley stepped down, turning to offer a hand to Clarissa's maid. Joan looked just as exhausted from the journey as Adrian felt.
"That would be Lady Clarissa's maid?" Kibble inquired, reaching his side and peering out at the pair now moving toward the door.
Adrian nodded. "They will be tired after their journey, Kibble. Show Joan to her room and let her eat and relax. Tomorrow is soon enough for her to start back to work. The same for Keighley."
"Very good," Kibble murmured, then said, "Lucy saw Lady Clarissa undressed and into the bath, but is below now. Shall I send her back up to help Lady Clarissa out of the bath and to dress for dinner?"
"No. I shall help her," Adrian said, and he turned to head to the stairs. "But have our meal sent up to my wife's room on trays. We will dine there and have an early night."
Eyes wide behind her spectacles, Clarissa turned the page of the book she was reading and continued to devour the tale of an unfaithful wife and the punishment her husband was exacting. It had looked to be the sort
several eyes were better than just her own. And he had put his entire staff on orders to watch out for her, which should keep her safe enough.
As for her being more alert were she to know about the dangers possibly stalking her, this was true, but it would also make her anxious, and Adrian really didn't want her anxious or afraid. Clarissa was blossoming now that she was out from under her stepmother's thumb. He didn't want anything to change that and make her grow timid and afraid.
Both were perfectly valid arguments, Adrian told himself as he carried more brandy back to his chair. It was just too bad he knew the real reason he didn't want her to have spectacles.
Sighing, he flopped into his chair once more and stared into the depths of his drink, mulling over the unfairness of life. He had found the perfect woman, someone he liked, desired, and enjoyed spending time with. Someone who made him laugh and--in his opinion--made him a nicer, softer person. Clarissa was also not repulsed by the very sight of him. But, he feared, that was only because she could not see him. While her presence made him more patient and kinder to others, it also made him cruel to her, the one person he loved. For surely it was cruel to leave her without sight when she could have it, to rob her of her ability to read and really experience and enjoy life, all for his own selfish reasons.
Sighing, Adrian set his full brandy glass on the table and stood with resignation. He would have to arrange for Clarissa to have spectacles. He would have to give up his own chance of happiness to ensure hers.
Shaking his head, Adrian left the salon and started
of book that could be helpful, but when she'd sneaked down to raid the Mowbray library, she hadn't had much time to look.
Yes, Clarissa had asked Lucy if Mowbray had a library, and where it was situated, while they were walking to her new room. And when Lucy had finished showing her around her chambers and then slipped below to order a bath, Clarissa had popped her spectacles on and followed. This was the first likely prospect she'd come across in the few moments she'd allowed herself, and, afraid of getting caught, she'd hurried back upstairs. She had managed to regain the room and hide the book under her pillow just before Lucy reentered.
The woman helped her undress and took down her hair while the bathwater was carried in. Clarissa had then dismissed her, assuring the girl she would prefer to bathe unattended. Once the maid was gone, Clarissa had retrieved her spectacles and book and sunk into the tub to read.
Clarissa turned another page and continued on with the story, marveling that it had been written by someone named Maria de Zayas. A woman! That was still a rarity in society, and this book had been written a good many years ago. As it turned out, it really wasn't very helpful in giving her ideas on ways to please her husband as yet, but it was interesting for all that, and Clarissa read it with pleasure. She had been parched for a glimpse of the written word these last weeks, and she was now soaking it up like a flower did rain after a long drought.
Clarissa was in the process of turning the page when she heard the telltale sound of the doorknob turning. Alarm racing through her, she snatched the
spectacles off her face and pressed the book and spectacles flat against her chest as she glanced over her shoulder toward the door. Her mouth fell open to tell Lucy that she really didn't wish to be disturbed when she recognized the dark hair and much larger shape of her husband.
Panic a living thing in her chest, Clarissa didn't even think, but she dropped her hand with the book and spectacles down into the water. She hid the condemning items under one leg, then racked her brain for what to do next.
"How is your bath?" Adrian asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice as he approached.
Clarissa's mouth opened and closed, any answer evading her as she sought some way to keep him from coming all the way to the tub. If he came that far, he would no doubt feel a need to help her bathe; then that help would turn to hindrance as he kissed and caressed her, and then he would either be in the tub with her, or scooping her out of it. Either way the book would be revealed.
The only answer seemed to be to keep him from approaching the tub. To manage that feat, Clarissa did the first thing she could think of. Adrian was halfway across the room when she suddenly stood up out of the water.
As she'd hoped, his footsteps stopped, and he appeared simply to be gaping at her openmouthed. Wa-an down off her body to splash back into the tub. ssa could feel his hot gaze moving over her naked flesh, and knew she was blushing, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Before her husband could regain his wits, she stepped out of the tub and crossed the small amount
of space between them. Clarissa didn't say a word; she didn't even do anything but walk to him. The moment she was within range, Adrian reached for her and drew her into his arms. His mouth covered hers and his hands roved over her, and then he turned while still kissing her and maneuvered her to the bed.
As her legs backed against the mattress, Adrian broke their kiss and murmured, "I thought you might be too tired after the journey."
Smiling, Clarissa pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, then dropped to sit on the side of the bed and reached for the fastening of his breeches.
>
"I suspect I will never be too tired for you, my husband," Clarissa assured him. As she helped him shed his clothes, she told herself not to forget to retrieve the book and her spectacles from the tub at the first opportunity... which had best be before anyone went near it.
Chapter Fifteen
"Are you sure you would not rather--"
"Nay," Clarissa interrupted Kibble quickly, then forced herself to regain patience and managed a smile. "I would really rather just lie down for a little while. A short nap is what I desire."
"You are not sickening, are you, my lady?" the buder asked with concern.
Clarissa managed not to scowl. Honestly, the Mowbray staff worried like a bunch of old ladies--even the voung male members of the staff. One or the other, and sometimes several at once, had been trailing her at all times during the last four days. And, did she try to slip away to her room for a moment's privacy, they became quite distressed.
"I am fine," she insisted firmly. "It is just that I have been getting little sleep of late and wish for a nap."
"I see." Kibble frowned. "Well, if you are not ailing. . ."
"I am not ailing. Please be sure no one disturbs me. Tell Joan I will not need her." She had reached her door, the butler following her the whole way and one of the footmen close behind him. Clarissa forced a smile for their benefit, then escaped into her room and firmly closed them out. She then leaned against the door with a sigh.
Good lord, Clarissa thought with exasperation; then she removed the library book from the folds of her skirts where she'd been hiding it, and tossed it on the bed. Giving her head a shake, she slid her hand through the small slit in the side of her skirt to find the pocket that hung from her waist. Clarissa retrieved the bag, took her spectacles out, and popped them onto her nose to survey the chamber. There was one chair. It stood before her dressing table. Determination coursing through her, she moved to drag it over to the door to prop it under the doorknob.
Satisfied that no one would be able to slip in and surprise her from that direction, Clarissa turned to contemplate the door that led into Adrian's room. There was no chair for that door, and for a moment she considered just leaving it as it was, but the fear of Adrian coming in and catching her in her ugly spectacles made her sigh.