An Unsuitable Match (16 page)

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Authors: Sasha Cottman

BOOK: An Unsuitable Match
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The following morning, David was woken by a resounding knock on his bedroom door.

‘Go the hell away!' he bellowed. He had barely slept and was in no mood for early visitors. Bailey had slipped the newspaper under the door earlier in the morning, but otherwise stayed well away.

‘No,' came the firm reply.

He opened one eye to see Alex standing over him, riding hat and gloves in hand.

Before he had the chance to grab the blankets and drag them back over his head, they were forcibly pulled from the bed and dumped onto the floor.

‘Get up. You and I are going riding in the park this morning,' Alex said.

‘Sod off, you bastard,' David replied.

‘I shall do no such thing, and I can prove my parents were married when I was born,' Alex replied.

Others might have found such an exchange more than a little harsh, but the Radley brothers were steadfastly loyal to one another. Anyone who tried to tell them that they were not full blood brothers was met with firm resistance. And as brothers, they felt perfectly entitled to insult one another.

David sat up and scowled at Alex. It was obvious that his family had noted his failure to appear in polite society the previous evening. There was a price to pay for being part of such a close-knit family.

‘Did Mama send you?' David asked.

Alex shook his head. ‘Millie.'

David raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Don't tell me your new bride has tired of your bedroom skills already?'

Alex laughed heartily.

David snorted and threw a leg over the side of the bed. Alex was not going to take the bait.

‘My wife says I need to get out and expend some energy first thing in the morning. She muttered something about needing more sleep when I left her in our bed an hour ago. I plan to call in at the apothecary on Bond Street later today.'

‘To get her a sleeping draught?'

Alex rolled his eyes. ‘No, to get something to give her more stamina.'

David scratched the stubble on his chin, and chuckled.

‘Why would Mama send me here?' Alex replied.

David sighed. ‘Because I spoke to her yesterday and found out some rather unsettling news. I always knew my real mother ran off to avoid marrying Papa, but what I didn't know was she deliberately condemned me to the life of a bastard. Did you know he would have taken her back, pregnant or not?'

Alex screwed up his face. ‘Forgive me if this sounds a little callous, but I cannot imagine what it must be like to know that everything I shall inherit would have been yours but for an act of unforgivable selfishness. But there is nothing any of us can do to change the past.'

David looked at his brother and nodded. He could never begrudge Alex his luck in being their father's legal heir.

‘My audience with Clarice went well enough. She took the necklace, but said if she were to wear it, it would be in her own good time. I'm suddenly and very acutely aware of how precariously balanced my situation is with her. For all these years my longing has been private. Only you, and more recently other family members, knew I was in love with Clarice. Now
she
knows.'

Even as he shared his concerns with his brother, David dared not voice his greatest fear. He had spoken to Clarice and confessed his love, but she had not responded in kind. Unrequited love would be the bitterest of pills to swallow after so many years of silent worship.

‘I spoke to Mama yesterday because I need to be certain of exactly who I am. At times I feel as if I am in a stranger's body.'

Alex tapped his fingers on the top of his hat. ‘You have at times been a drunkard, a womaniser and a gambler, but
ton
society does not condemn you for that. Only the fact that you were born on the wrong side of the blankets seems to be the problem for some. Of course once you have made a success of Sharnbrook and have plenty of your own money, you should see a few people change their minds.'

‘I don't know about the womanising part; I am renowned for my gentlemanly discretion when it comes to matters of the fairer sex,' David replied.

A feigned cough was Alex's response.

Bailey knocked tentatively on the open door, interrupting the discussion. At David's nod he began to assemble his master's riding clothes. Alex marched over to the window and threw back the curtains, flooding the room with the morning's light. David covered his eyes against the sudden brightness.

‘Come on; I shall be downstairs waiting,' said Alex. ‘Those new horses Father purchased last week have arrived at the Strathmore stables. He wants us to take them out for a morning gallop. There is little purpose to staying in your bed, railing against life's unbearable misfortunes.'

With tired reluctance, David climbed off the bed and went about his toilette.

Half an hour later, he and Alex were racing each other down the Rotten Row in Hyde Park at breakneck speed. With his wound still not fully healed, he dared not risk stretching out on the horse. He spurred his mount on as best he could, but it was impossible to catch his brother. He roared with frustration as Alex left him behind easily. At the end of the run, Alex brought his horse about and trotted back to David.

‘Still asleep, are we?'

David ignored the jibe. He and Alex shared a great deal of secrets, but he had not mentioned the incident with Thaxter Fox at the boxing saloon. He would deal with Mr Fox in his own way and in his own time.

‘They are very fine. Father is an excellent judge of horseflesh,' David remarked as he slowed his horse and drew alongside his brother.

Alex leapt down from his horse and gave it a congratulatory pat on the neck. ‘Good boy.'

David sat back on his mount and surveyed the early-morning scene. The park was a hive of activity. Anyone who considered themselves an accomplished rider was out enjoying the crisp London air. He touched his hat to acknowledge a passing group of riders.

‘Are you staying up there or coming down to walk with me?' Alex said.

‘Sorry,' David replied and climbed down from his horse.

They began to walk, but only got a few short yards before David swore and stopped.

‘What?' Alex asked.

David took off his hat. ‘I've been going about this wooing of Clarice the wrong way. I need a sound slap to the head.'

Alex laughed and swung a lazy arm toward David, who quickly sidestepped the poorly aimed blow.

‘Ever the pugilist,' he said, through gritted teeth. He managed a smile, but the sharp pain of his injury had him struggling for air. Reaching a hand to where the bandages had stuck to his skin, he swore once more. Alex stood and looked him up and down, concern clearly etched on his face.

‘What have you done?' he said.

David sucked in another painful breath. ‘Fox,' he replied.

His brother moved quickly to his side, pulled up his shirt and revealed the fresh bandages.

‘What did he do?'

‘I fought him at Gentleman Jackson's; it was only after I left that I realised he had stabbed me,' David replied, surprised by how calm he felt.

‘What! Why haven't you had the blackguard arrested?' Alex shouted, his face contorted with rage.

David held up his hands. ‘The same reason you didn't tell Father about Lord Langham: there are innocent parties involved. How do you think it would look if I accused Langham's heir of trying to kill me? I can't get within ten feet of Clarice when her father is around; he is not likely to thank me for having his heir placed in irons.'

Alex opened his arms and looked to the heavens.

‘So what are we going do? Fox has to be dealt with; you can't let him get away with this outrage,' he said.

‘I have been a fool up to now, allowing Langham to deny us a possible future. But no more. It suddenly occurred to me that what I need to do is protect Clarice at all costs. Fox can only have attacked me because he sees me as a threat to his chance at her dowry.

‘I have spent my whole life trying to make the circumstances of my birth a matter of little import. Never taken offence when others have sought to judge me. And where has it got me? When it comes to the woman I love, most certainly nowhere. If Langham knew I had kissed Clarice, he would have my guts for garters.'

A knowing smile crept across Alex's lips. David groaned. Of course Lucy would have shared with Millie what she saw in the summerhouse. And once Millie knew, she would have told Alex.

David shook his head before fixing a hard stare at his brother.

‘I am sick and tired of behaving correctly, of always being the one who has to make way for propriety's sake. From this moment on, I am going to do everything I can to win Clarice's heart and hand. And if her father doesn't like it he can go to the devil. I will claim what is mine.'

‘So does this suicidal folly of yours actually involve a plan?' said Alex.

David nodded. ‘Yes, though what Clarice will think of it is a matter for conjecture. She asked for time to consider her future, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to break my promise. I have to increase my efforts.'

With Thaxter Fox now using guerrilla tactics, David knew he had no choice. As he walked slowly back along the track with Alex, he drew comfort from the knowledge that if he succeeded in his plan, he would have the rest of his life to make it up to Clarice.

‘Millie told me Clarice will be at the Tates' rout this evening,' Alex replied.

‘Good. Then it begins tonight.'

Clarice sighed.

‘I hope he likes this one,' she whispered to herself.

Behind her Bella was fixing the last hairpins into place. The simple coronet of small red roses was designed to complement Clarice's new evening gown. While her recent purchases had included several stunning creations designed to display her figure to its utmost, she had also erred on the side of caution and had one or two simpler muslin gowns made up. With her father expected as a late arrival tonight, Clarice and Lady Alice had chosen a modest white gown with a bodice ringed by red roses. A trail of roses then ran down the skirt to finish in a small bunch gathered at the hem.

Simple and elegant, it was very much suited to a young unmarried lady. Her father would no doubt approve, but in the depths of her heart she knew it was David she was dressing for.

‘You look so beautiful, Lady Clarice,' Bella remarked. Her maid had been in a happy mood all afternoon, since Clarice had finally relented and given her permission to dispose of her old gowns. At her age and with her plump figure Bella would not be able to wear them, but Clarice knew a thriving trade in old gowns existed between the maids of the great houses. Bella would be able to make a tidy sum selling off Clarice's mourning gowns.

Clarice gave her reflection in the mirror one last look and rose from the chair. David's confession in the summerhouse and his gift weighed heavily on her mind. Refusing his suit was the most practical and obvious response. It was what her father would demand.

But what about me?

To accept would change her whole world. She would gain a husband, but at what cost? Bella wrapped a warm cream cashmere shawl about Clarice's shoulders, but she hardly noticed. Lost deep in thought, she barely recalled leaving the house and arriving at the latest of the season parties.

‘Clarice my dear, you are wool-gathering,' Lady Alice said, a few minutes after their arrival at Lord and Lady Tate's elegant home. Clarice turned and scowled, before realising she was standing in the middle of a crowded room.

‘I do beg your pardon,' she replied.

Her grandmother smiled before leaning in close. ‘David is here tonight. I saw him with his family when we arrived.'

Clarice shook her head. ‘Papa will be here shortly. We cannot meet.'

‘So that is your answer. You will spend the rest of your life avoiding the man you love because you might displease your father?'

The man I love?

She stared at Lady Alice. ‘Who said I was in love with him?'

The dowager harrumphed. ‘My dear, it is impossible not notice when love is written all over a young woman's face. What other possible reason could there be for the change in your whole demeanour whenever David Radley's name is mentioned?'

A shiver fluttered between Clarice's shoulder blades and her mouth formed a small ‘o' as she absorbed her grandmother's words. She put a hand to her lips, but a chortle escaped.

‘Am I wrong?' Lady Alice continued.

‘I don't know, truly I don't,' Clarice replied.

‘Well, only you can decide, my dear. Just remember, if you do come to the obvious and inevitable conclusion that you are in love with him, you need to take your father's opinion into account.'

Clarice nodded. ‘Meaning that he would oppose any union.'

‘Meaning you may have to elope,' Lady Alice muttered, as she turned from Clarice and greeted a friend who had just arrived.

She watched Lady Alice exchange small talk with her friend, her outward manner displaying no obvious sign that she had only a minute ago suggested her granddaughter elope with a duke's illegitimate son.

Clarice smiled. Her grandmother had a solution to every problem.

Could she do it? If she was indeed falling in love with David, was she prepared to defy her father? One single waltz in public, without her father present, and a private meeting was as far as her bravery had thus far extended.

Looking down at her evening reticule, she remembered the onyx necklace she had slipped inside it before leaving Langham House. Perhaps Lady Alice was right. Why else would Clarice have brought the necklace with her?

She followed her grandmother through the crowd, grateful that her father had a business meeting to attend before he joined them. The crowd parted as they neared the dance floor and she caught her first glimpse of David.

He was, as always, deep in conversation. The light from a nearby chandelier made his black hair shine. His elegantly cut evening jacket hugged his broad, muscled shoulders.

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