An Unsuitable Match (13 page)

Alex gave a friendly wave in David's direction and laughed. ‘I don't need to cheat to best you, dear brother.'

It was almost an hour later by the time Lucy and Millie sought them out.

‘About time,' David snapped. He had lost three games to Alex and his mood was beginning to darken. The stab wound in his side bit painfully every time he wielded the mallet.

Millie and Lucy both ignored his display of temper.

‘Yes, well, time is something that you may not have. Thaxter Fox is here and Clarice is sharing a picnic with him on the west lawn,' Lucy replied.

‘What?' the men replied.

Millie nodded. ‘Apparently Lord Langham wants Clarice to help Mr Fox navigate his way through the rocky shoals of London society. I wouldn't be so concerned about that if I hadn't heard rumours that he is in the market for a wife. If you list all of Clarice's attributes, including her dowry and family ties, she is likely to be at the top of his list. And after seeing the way she let him drag her away from us this afternoon, I am concerned she will take the path of least resistance and agree to marry him.'

‘You have to do something, David!' Lucy cried.

He held up a hand and the look he gave his sister was enough for her to fall silent.

‘Calm down. I would have thought you had more faith in me than that. You didn't think I came here unprepared, did you?'

In the boxing saloon, Thaxter Fox had already shown his hand. He was prepared to be underhanded to win Clarice. David looked at his siblings and smiled. Mr Fox might have his sly ways, but he didn't have the resources of the Radley family at his disposal.

‘I have a plan, and you all need to play your parts exactly as I say.'

‘This looks like as good a spot as any; shall we sit?' Thaxter asked.

He pointed the laden plate he held in the direction of a rug spread out on the garden lawn.

‘Yes, though if it gets too hot we may need to move back toward the terrace,' Clarice replied. She had hoped that Lady Alice would have returned by now and joined them. Her grandmother's forthright manner was just what the situation needed.

Thaxter took hold of her gloved hand and helped her to sit. After setting the plate down, he took a seat next to her. She shuffled further away from him.

‘Bother,' he said, frustrated, and clearly unused to using such timid language.

‘Pardon?'

‘We should have got tea.'

She shook her head. ‘I am not that partial to tea myself, but if you like I shall wait here with the food until you get some.'

He gave her a friendly smile. ‘Back shortly,' he said and got to his feet.

While she waited for Thaxter to reappear, Clarice rearranged her skirts and tilted the tip of her bonnet down to shade her face from the sun. She had been so preoccupied with her new attire that she had left her parasol under a garden chair. Getting up from the rug unassisted presented some difficulty, so she decided to stay put. If, at some point, she needed a break from Thaxter, she would ask him to retrieve her parasol.

‘Would you mind taking this from me?' he asked upon his return with a hot cup of tea. She took the cup and saucer from him.

‘Thank you,' he said as she handed it back to him, once he had resumed his seat.

‘A lot of messing about just to have a drink and a sandwich,' Clarice replied.

A sigh of annoyance escaped Thaxter's lips. ‘I forgot to get you a drink. I really am a country bumpkin.'

She laughed and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Why on earth did I just do that? And in public. Don't fall for his feeble charms, Clarice.

‘Forgive me for being overly familiar,' she said, her face turning red.

He reached out and took hold of her hand. ‘That is perfectly all right, Lady Clarice. In fact, I appreciate your concern. As you can see I struggle with the nuances of polite society. Which reminds me, I must beg your humble pardon for the cack-handed way I took hold of your hand at the ball the other night. It was most impolite of me to address you in such a way. I seem to find myself constantly tripping up and making mistakes.'

She nodded. He did seem to find a way to easily offend most people.

‘Which is why, if I may be so bold as to discuss such a matter with you, I am in search of a wife.'

Oh.

Clarice sat silent on the rug, staring vacantly out over a nearby bed of brightly coloured peonies. Her mind had gone completely blank and she was incapable of speech.

Please no, please no.

She blinked and looked down at her hands, only then realising she had somehow picked up the plate of sandwiches and small cakes. Taking a sandwich of salmon and thinly sliced cucumber in her hand, she took a bite. She offered him the plate and he took it from her, placing it on the ground behind him.

‘A wife who would be able to guide me in the ways of high society. Someone born into the
ton.
Someone who possessed the requisite skills in running a country estate as well as a town house.'

‘Yes, well, I am sure that there are many suitable young ladies here today. As a future earl you have quite a lot to offer,' she stammered, before taking another bite of the sandwich.

He shifted closer to her and she felt the sandwich stick in her throat. She watched with growing trepidation as he reached out and took hold of her hand. He leaned in close. So close she could smell his overpowering cologne. So close she could hear him breathing. Her heart began to race.

No! No! No!
her mind's protest cried out in ever-increasing fervour.

His lips pressed against her outer ear and he murmured. ‘I know you and I have not known one another very long and I am yet to find your good favour. But I am certain that if we were to spend more time together, you would find I am a man with hidden talents and delights. Lady Clarice, if you would at least consider my —'

‘Susan!' she cried.

Lady Susan and her cousins had fortuitously chosen that exact moment to make an appearance at the edge of the pathway. Clarice shot up her hand and in a most unladylike manner waved furiously at them. The girls looked toward her and the Winchester cousins gave a cheery wave in reply.

The three girls made a direct line for them. Thaxter withdrew his hand and made a show of picking up the plate.

As they drew near, Clarice could see the look of thunder on Susan's face.

‘How lovely to see you again; do come and join us,' Clarice said. She patted the empty space on the other side of the blanket and motioned for Susan to sit down. Thaxter let out a barely disguised sigh of frustration and got to his feet. After assisting Susan and the Winchester sisters to take a place on the rug, it quickly became apparent that there was not enough room for the five of them.

‘And you have food; how thoughtful of you, Mr Fox,' Susan said. She held out her hands and Thaxter reluctantly handed her the plate. Out of the corner of her eye, Clarice saw the two of them exchange an odd look.

‘So where is Lady Alice?' Daisy Winchester asked.

‘She went to lie down a little while ago,' replied Clarice.

As soon as the words left her lips, she knew she had been saved. Being a dutiful granddaughter, she really should go and check on the health of her beloved grandmother. An unexpected means of escape had suddenly presented itself, and she quickly took it.

‘Speaking of which, I must go and make sure she is resting comfortably. Her injured leg causes her great pain,' she added.

Hurrying away from the group back to the house, she gave a quick glance over her shoulder. Thaxter Fox had taken her place next to Lady Susan and was seated with his back to the house.

She stopped by the chair where she had been sitting earlier and retrieved her parasol. Stepping inside the house, she thought it wise to at least keep up the appearance of checking on Lady Alice. She had one foot on the staircase when a hand reached out and took hold of her arm.

‘We thought you would never escape that wretched man,' Lucy said.

Millie and Lucy stood shoulder to shoulder with their backs to the garden, effectively blocking any view of Clarice that might be had from the west lawn.

‘What?'

‘We have been watching and waiting for the right moment to come and rescue you. We were halfway out the door when Macbeth's three witches appeared,' Lucy added.

Clarice couldn't help but laugh at Lucy's less than kind remark.

‘Sorry, I shouldn't say that about your friends; they probably think the same of us,' Lucy said.

‘Speak for yourself,' Millie replied.

I didn't actually need rescuing; I'm on my way upstairs to see my grandmother,' Clarice replied.

Her friends looked at one another and nodded. ‘We have already been upstairs and spoken to Lady Alice. She says she will rest for a little while longer and that when you have finished in the garden you may go and sit with her,' Millie said.

Lucy and Millie positioned themselves either side of Clarice and guided her across the room and out through another door. Opposite the door was a small path, which meandered through the garden in the direction of the lake.

Seeing that the sun was still high in the sky, Clarice began to open her parasol.

‘No!' Millie whispered. She quickly took hold of Clarice's parasol and swapped it with her own. She then dashed off down the path and out of sight. A minute or two later she reappeared further down the path with Alex, Clarice's open parasol in her hand. They waved, and Lucy waved back.

‘Good, now we can begin,' Lucy said. She took Millie's parasol out of Clarice's hand and opened it fully before handing it back. She raised her hand and adjusted Clarice's grip.

‘You must keep it close to your head; that way no-one will be able to tell it is you. People know it belongs to Millie.' The parasol was painted with dark blue birds, giving it a distinctive character.

They followed the path down to where Alex and Millie waited. They had barely reached them when the newlyweds headed back up the path.

Lucy and Clarice walked on for a few more yards before Lucy stopped and looked back toward the house. At this part of the garden, they were out of sight of the lawn.

At a loss as to what was going on, Clarice's confusion further increased when Lucy took hold of her arm and began to lead her toward the small summerhouse at the edge of the lake.

As they neared the house, Lucy looked furtively from left to right. At a point in the path where it split into two, she stopped. The path before them continued around the garden and back up to the house. The second branch led down to the edge of the lake.

‘Good; I think we are alone. Now, listen carefully. Alex and Millie will hold a position at the top of the stone steps and intercept anyone who wanders down this way. Millie's brother, Charles Ashton, is over the other side of the garden keeping watch on Mr Fox and his harem. All you have to do is go to the front door of the summerhouse and go inside.'

Clarice sighed with frustrated confusion. ‘What on earth are we doing?'

Lucy stepped in close.

‘David is waiting for you in the summerhouse. This is your secret rendezvous. Just follow the path down,' she whispered.

She gave Clarice a quick farewell kiss on the cheek before shoving her gently in the direction of the summerhouse. Clarice took several tentative steps before stopping.

What secret rendezvous?

She turned and saw Lucy still standing in the middle of the path, her gaze fixed in the direction of the house. Clarice sighed. All routes to the summerhouse were being watched by David's friends and family.

Turning back to the path that led down to the lake, she began to walk.

With every footstep a growing sense of helpless panic rose within her. She had barely managed to escape Thaxter Fox's clutches and yet here she was, willingly going to meet with another potential suitor.

‘This is madness,' she muttered. She passed under the shady trees, around to the front door of the summerhouse, and there she stopped.

With her gloved hands tightly gripping the handle of the parasol, she considered her situation. If she decided to walk away, if she refused to meet David, would he give up the fight for her?

In all rational circumstances, she shouldn't care what he did. If he went and found another woman to marry it should be none of her concern.

‘I should just go back to the house, find Lady Alice and go home,' she muttered. David and his well-intentioned family would have to accept that her decision was no.

She could give a thousand plausible excuses for crying off at this very moment. Refusing to meet him was the eminently sensible thing to do. Her father would expect it. Lord Langham would be furious if he knew his daughter was making a secret assignation with a man he considered entirely unsuitable for her.

She chortled nervously. A secret meeting with David was far worse than a public dance.

‘Yes, utter madness,' she said, closing her parasol.

She opened the door and stepped inside.

The cool sweet air of the summerhouse kissed her face and, closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

‘Welcome, Lady Clarice.'

She opened her eyes and her gaze fell upon him.

The summerhouse was a small room, obviously designed for Lord and Lady Brearley to relax in when they spent afternoons by the lake. David crossed the floor with three long strides and, stepping past her, closed the door. He turned and faced her.

If she had been asked to describe the room, other than the striking oriental pattern on the curtains, she would have been at a loss for words. All her attention was taken by David.

He was clad in an expertly cut deep blue jacket that displayed his strong, broad shoulders to brilliant effect. Beneath the jacket was a gold, silver and pale-blue striped waistcoat, complemented by his pure white linen shirt. She was powerless to stop her gaze from drifting lower. His pale suede buckskins clung to his muscular thighs. Her breathing faltered.