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Authors: Sasha Cottman

BOOK: An Unsuitable Match
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By evening's end he and Bannister had put together a list of matters that required urgent attention, coupled with an estimate of costs.

As he lay awake in the master bedroom later that night, he pondered how quickly things had moved in his life during the past weeks. He had seen his brother happily married and now he, the bastard son, had his own estate.

Marvellous though these developments were, they only served to make him more acutely aware of what he lacked in his life. He reached over and pulled a pillow into his arms, holding it tightly to himself. His last thoughts before he slipped into a deep sleep were of Clarice and how she would feel when he held her in his arms in this bed.

He dreamt a deeply satisfying dream in which he took a pair of scissors and slowly cut away her long, dark, shapeless gown. Finally, when she stood before him in all her naked glory, she offered him her hand and begged him to make love to her.

David slept late the following morning.

On the afternoon of his third day at Sharnbrook Grange, and following a hearty midday meal, David and Bannister rode into Sharnbrook village and set themselves up at a table in the village inn. One after another of the former staff from Sharnbrook Grange sat in front of them and made their case for employment. As the new master of Sharnbrook, David was at pains to be seen as a fair and good employer.

By afternoon's end, they had a full household complement and enough farm workers to get things moving again at the estate.

After a visit to the local vicar at the old Norman-era church, David had a list of families in desperate need and who could take up residence in the many empty estate cottages.

Back in the yard at the manor house, David climbed down from his horse. Satisfaction at a job well done warmed his veins. He was kicking the mud from his boots against a tethering post when he spied a small girl, aged about ten, out the corner of his eye.

She was standing several yards away, hands on hips, studying him. Loosening the last of the mud from the bottom of his boots, he gave her a friendly wave. With her long golden hair tied in up in a pretty blue ribbon, she reminded him of Emma, his youngest sister.

Her hands slipped from her hips and she took a few hesitant steps toward him. Then she stopped and dipped deep into a curtsy.

‘My Lord,' she said solemnly.

David, frowned and then, seeing how much effort the young girl had put into her greeting, he smiled. He pushed away from the wooden post and walked over to her. Giving her a deep bow, he replied.

‘My Lady.'

Her bended knee wobbled and the young girl looked up at him with serious intent.

‘I ain't no lady, I'm Tunia,' she stated firmly.

At the stable door, Mitchell coughed. David gave him a sideways glance and saw the stable master stifling a grin.

‘Petunia,' her father corrected her.

Petunia screwed up her nose in disgust. ‘No one but me ma calls me that, and only when she's cross.'

A gasp of mock indignation escaped David's lips. ‘No. I cannot believe that such a graceful and beautiful young lady as yourself would ever be in trouble with her mama.'

The stable master turned away, his shoulders shaking with mirth.

David knelt down on his haunches and took hold of Tunia's hand.

‘Lady Tunia, I think you are the loveliest lady I have seen since last week.' He kissed her sun-freckled hand and watched as a tear came to Tunia's eye.

‘A whole week?' she stammered. ‘Including church at St Peters on Sunday?'

‘Yes, Lady Tunia, including church,' he replied, with the sudden realisation he had not seen Clarice in nearly a week.

Mitchell returned and took hold of his daughter's hand. ‘Come now, Petunia, we must not take up any more of Mr Radley's time. He is a very busy and important man.' David appreciated the respectful nod that accompanied Mitchell's words.

Father and daughter began to walk away, heading in the direction of the house at the other end of the barn.

The feisty imp shook her hand free from her father's and ran back to David. ‘Pa says you are a mister, but I think you dress and look just like a lord. I know because I saw the big lord when he came a few weeks ago and you look just like him.'

David smiled. It was comforting to know that even a young country lass could see he was his father's son.

‘Thank you, Lady Tunia. I will be your lord, if you will be my special lady. We shall bow and curtsy to one another, and to no one else. Good day to you, milady,' he said, and bade her farewell with a bow.

Petunia blushed a deep red, but held his gaze. ‘Thank you, my Lord,' she replied.

He stood, hands on hips, and watched as Mitchell finally extricated his young daughter from the yard and took her home.

‘Enchanting,' he whispered, as he turned and headed back into the house.

‘Ah, ladies, perfect timing,' Earl Langham said as Clarice and her grandmother arrived home from an afternoon visit with one of Lady Alice's friends. ‘Come and join us,' he said and ushered them into the main drawing room. The earl assisted his mother to a nearby chair and slipped a small leather footstool under her injured leg.

‘Such a dutiful son,' a male voice said.

Clarice turned, and as she did she felt her skin crawl.

Seated comfortably on a deep burgundy leather couch was her father's new heir, Thaxter Fox.

New, because the old heir had suffered the misfortune of catching a virulent case of croup and had died the previous summer. Clarice had liked her second cousin Rupert, and thought he would have made an excellent earl, not to mention a potential husband. As for Mr Fox, there was something about him that she found unsettling. Having only met him on a handful of occasions, she was yet to put a finger on exactly what it was.

She blinked as she took in all his physical features. It certainly wasn't his looks that put her on edge. If she was honest, he was a handsome, well-built specimen. His hair was dark brown, bordering on black, though not as dark as David's mane. His new, well-cut clothing hugged his muscles in all the right places. Even his highly polished boots gave him the air of a sophisticated, well-bred gentleman. He looked every inch the future earl.

He rose and strode with purpose to Lady Alice and gave her a deep, elegant bow. ‘Lady Alice, what a great pleasure to see you once more. Lord Langham was just telling me of your terrible accident.'

Lady Alice coughed. ‘Thank you, Mr Fox, but I merely slipped on some wet stones and injured my knee.'

He gave her another bow and turned to Clarice.

‘Lady Clarice, my dear,' he said as he walked toward her. Though he moved normally, she had a sudden vision of an alley cat as it stalked a mouse. A cold shiver slid down her spine.

He took hold of her of hand and placed a kiss on her gloved fingers. ‘You grow lovelier by the day,' he murmured.

He straightened and from under the wisp of his fringe, he looked at her with a sad, almost mournful face.

‘May I offer my sincere condolences on your recent misfortune? I must say your father has exhibited his usual steady hand and good nature during this most trying of times.'

Clarice was now in two minds as to which of the two men in the room she distrusted the most. Her father, who had obviously given his own well-edited version of recent events, or Mr Fox.

‘Thank you, Mr Fox. Fortunately matters have been resolved and we are all good friends once more,' she replied. She removed her hand from his grasp.

‘Would you care to join us for a spot of afternoon tea?' her father asked.

She gripped the handle of her reticule and tried not to look too disappointed. She had hoped to steal some time for herself before supper. In the days since her grandmother had arrived at the house, Clarice had barely managed a moment alone.

‘We actually came home early from visiting because I felt a headache coming on,' Lady Alice noted from her chair.

Clarice gave a silent prayer of thanks to her grandmother. This was the first time she had heard mention of the headache, but she instantly decided to play along.

‘Yes, poor Grandmamma is not yet fully recovered from her long journey. She travelled all the way from Norfolk with that painful knee.'

‘Oh dear, how unfortunate,' Thaxter replied. He motioned toward the couch. ‘My physician says headaches are often the result of dehydration. Perhaps a cup of tea would lessen your ills, Lady Alice?'

Lady Alice muttered something, but Clarice couldn't quite make out the words. She doubted that they were fit to be repeated. A quick glance in her father's direction gave her no joy; he just smiled back at her.

Heel.

The women were cornered and there was nothing else for them to do but sit and listen to Mr Fox boast of his minor achievements, while constantly reminding everyone that he was a simple and unassuming man.

As she counted the leaves on the rose-patterned floor rug, Clarice mused over the fate of her family title and estate. Her father, for all his enemies, was not a bad man. She comforted herself with the hope that if he had indeed been the cause of Alex's injuries, he had taken no pleasure in meting out the punishment.

The only reasonable conclusion she had been able to draw was that the earl, having seen his daughter publicly humiliated, had refused to accept the insult to his family name. Seated beside her father on the couch, she looked at him with approval. In his defence of her honour, she could find no fault.

The man seated on the couch opposite posed an entirely different set of problems. He was a very distant relative, one who had only been discovered after many months of searching. The thought that Thaxter Fox would take over as her guardian if anything should happen to her father filled Clarice with a cold dread.

If only her father would consider marrying again. A new, young wife could possibly give the earl his own heir. One who would move Mr Fox one step further down the line of succession.

‘I am barely out of mourning for my wife,' had been her father's terse response the one time she had dared to broach the subject.

She nursed a cup of tea, allowing it to go cold and undrinkable. Finally, Lady Alice let out a loud sigh and announced it was time for her to ascend the stairs and take a long pre-dinner nap. The assistance of her granddaughter was of course expected. The gentlemen stood and bade them both farewell. Clarice stifled a grin as Lady Alice made a point of holding stiffly onto her granddaughter's arm and wincing as they started for the door.

As they entered the hallway, they exchanged looks. ‘Thank the dear Lord that is over,' Lady Alice whispered.

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘David is here tonight, did you know?' Lucy said.

Millie turned and raised her eyebrows. ‘No, I thought he was still in Bedfordshire. I don't think Alex knows either,' she replied.

‘He arrived back in London earlier today. He did call in at home, but only paid Papa a short visit before he left. Papa didn't make mention of it at dinner, so I am assuming that it was a private matter. I only found out because my maid saw David leaving.'

Millie raised her head and began to scan the ballroom, looking for her brother-in-law.

‘Alex should be back shortly; once he returns we should be able to run David to ground.' She raised a hand and pointed across the room. ‘There he is; I would know that mop of black hair anywhere.'

Lucy grinned. David was a good two inches taller than most other men of the
ton,
so it was never a difficult task to find him in a crowded ballroom.

Arm in arm, the two women crossed the floor. Once they reached where David stood talking to some friends, they took a place either side of him.

‘And were you planning to pay your respects to us this evening, Mr Radley, or are we no longer acceptable company?' Millie said. Lucy laughed.

David turned and faced them, looking from his sister-in-law to his sister.

‘Ah, my dear sisters, I was not aware that you had arrived.'

‘Well, you can see that we have,' Lucy replied, and swiped his arm with her fan.

‘Indeed. And where is your blond-haired buffoon of a husband?' David asked with a nod in Millie's direction.

‘Right here, you deaf fool,' Alex replied.

The other guests around them laughed. Bearing witness to the banter between the Radley siblings was considered a particular highlight of any social gathering.

The brothers exchanged a mutual slap on the back. ‘So how was Sharnbrook? Did we not choose well?' Alex asked.

‘It was a first-class choice. With some work I think Sharnbrook will make an excellent estate,' David replied.

‘And one that will support a wife and family,' Lucy added. As soon as the words left her mouth, she groaned. Patches of red appeared on her cheeks.

‘Yes indeed, Lucy. It will be the perfect place in which to raise a brood,' Alex replied, with a chuckle. Her brothers fortunately understood Lucy's habit of making public
faux pas
.

The family group quickly joined up with David and his friends, forming a large circle to one side of the room.

‘He is rather a handsome chap; I can see the attraction,' Lady Alice murmured, from where she and Clarice stood on the opposite side of the expansive ballroom. Clarice gave her grandmother a shy smile.

‘Yes, but not suitable enough for Papa,' she replied.

Lady Alice took hold of Clarice's arm. ‘Let us sit for a moment, my dear. I am certain you will still be able to see Mr Radley from this side of the ballroom.'

The two women found some chairs, and after gaining the attention of a footman to bring them refreshments, sat drinking punch and watching the other guests mingle.

‘It's so good to take the weight off this blasted leg,' Lady Alice said with a sigh. Clarice reached out and took hold of her grandmother's hand.

‘You seem to be able to walk a little further on it each day, so it must be starting to heal.'

Lady Alice sipped her drink and nodded.

‘Yes, but I don't expect to be walking in Hyde Park any time soon, more's the pity. But that is not why I wanted to come and sit here with you. It's about that young man and what we are going to do to capture him.'

Clarice snorted as a sudden vision of David, bound and gagged, appeared in her mind.

She stared at the cup of punch in her hand and sighed inwardly. Matters with David had not progressed any further since the night at the opera. She had not seen him for over a week.

‘What do you suggest I do?' she replied.

Lady Alice clicked her tongue. ‘Well, for a start you should go over and talk to his sisters. Those Radley girls seem to have your best interests at heart and I suspect they have plans to bring the two of you together at some point this evening. This is a ball, so there will be plenty of opportunities for you to get his name on your dance card.'

Clarice shook her head. ‘You know Papa would never allow it.'

Lady Alice's solid walking stick rapped sharply on the floor.

‘Now listen here, my girl, I don't want to hear you say that again. Your father is a stubborn man who gets silly notions into his head at times. As a boy, he was convinced he could fly from the rooftop of Langham Hall if he flapped his arms hard enough. I am telling you to go and dance with David Radley, and if your father has a problem with my edict then he can take it up with me in the morning.'

Clarice looked from Lady Alice back across the room to where David stood deep in conversation with his brother. Almost as if he had heard Lady Alice's words, he stole a sudden glance in Clarice's direction.

‘Go on, girl, get yourself over to his sisters and I guarantee you will be dancing with him in no time.' She nudged Clarice's leg with her stick. ‘Go on.'

With her empty dance card swinging from the satin ribbon around her wrist, Clarice made her way across the floor. Twice she looked back over her shoulder only to see Lady Alice wave her on. Lucy saw her as she drew close to the Radley family members, and rushed eagerly to her side.

‘I was wondering if you were going to come and see me this evening,' Lucy said. She gave Lady Alice a furtive glance before turning back to Clarice. ‘Is your grandmother making you play lady's companion?'

Clarice shook her head. ‘Actually, she bade me come and see you.'

Lucy's eyes grew wide with delight. ‘And?'

‘And she said I should dance with David,' Clarice said, hesitatingly.

The words had barely left her lips before Lucy let out a squeal of delight. ‘Oh, oh, that's marvellous news! Quick, where's Millie?'

They both looked around, but Millie had disappeared. Lucy tapped Alex impatiently on the shoulder.

‘Where is your wife?' she demanded.

He looked down beside him, and frowned. In the short time since they had married, it was clear the Marquess and Marchioness of Brooke had become accustomed to being in very close proximity to one another.

‘Ah, there she is,' he replied, pointing across the other side of the room.

In the time it had taken Clarice and Lucy to exchange greetings, Millie had whisked across the ballroom and made herself known to Lady Alice. As they watched, Lady Alice motioned for Millie to take the seat beside her, which she did.

‘What is my little turtledove scheming?' Alex said.

Lucy took hold of Clarice's hand and swung her back toward the group. ‘It does not matter; what is important is that Lady Alice has given Clarice permission to dance with our brother.' A huge smile appeared on Alex's face. ‘Really? That is good news. David!'

David looked over his shoulder and was startled to see Clarice standing so close. He quickly excused himself from the other guests and rejoined his siblings. When he got to Clarice, he sank into a deep bow.

‘Lady Clarice, such a pleasure to see you tonight. It has been too long since last we met. I trust that you are well. How is your grandmother?'

Lucy rubbed her hands together with glee and then pointed at Clarice's dance card. ‘Don't worry about her grandmother's knee. You have to mark her card!'

‘Lady Alice has given leave for me to dance with you this evening. If, of course, that is agreeable to you,' Clarice explained, feeling just a little bit sheepish.

What if he says no?

With his gaze fixed firmly upon her, he stepped forward. The wicked glint in his eye sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach. A sudden warmth coursed through her body. The bindings tightened across her breasts. She had been a little too heavy-handed with them earlier that evening and as a result was only able to take short breaths.

I should never bind myself when I am in a hurry.

He took hold of the end of the ribbon wrapped around her wrist and slowly, enticingly, pulled on the length of it, until he held her dance card in his hand.

‘May I have the next waltz, Lady Clarice?' he asked.

She swallowed.

Somewhere on a distant plain she heard herself reply. ‘Yes.'

Lucy handed David a small pencil and, spellbound, Clarice watched as he wrote his name on her card. One of the final lines of his love letter came to mind as she struggled for air.

Never far from my thoughts, always in my heart.

Lucy gave her a kiss on the cheek and Clarice turned to see David's sister with tears in her eyes.

‘Don't mind me, I'm just a watering pot,' Lucy whispered.

David laughed a deep and gentle laugh.

‘Well, that is sorted out,' Millie said, coming back to the group and breaking the spell.

The opening notes of a waltz began to fill the room. David offered Clarice his hand, and she took it before she had time to ask Millie the purpose of her visit to Lady Alice.

David gave one last look at his sisters as he led her toward the dance floor. ‘Fear not. Whatever Millie is planning I am sure it is all for the good. I don't think she has an evil bone in her body,' he said.

As Lucy stood and watched Clarice and David walk away, Millie came to her side.

‘So, dearest sister, for what purpose did you impose yourself so suddenly upon the dowager countess?' Lucy asked.

Millie placed a gloved hand gently on Lucy's arm. ‘I have been thinking about how we can move matters along. Tonight is a very good start, and now that we know Lady Alice is on our side, I plan to utilise her as much as possible.'

David and Clarice completed a turn and passed close by them.

‘Millie, do you really think they may have a chance? I know David would marry Clarice tomorrow if he could, but as for her, I am not so certain.' Lucy said.

Millie screwed up her nose.

‘Who knows, sister dearest, but there is one thing of which I am certain: something has to be done about her wardrobe. I know David thinks she is beautiful, but I don't believe Clarice sees herself in the same light. If she did, then perhaps she might feel more confident and take some risks.'

Lucy let out a deep sigh. The plain lilac gown Clarice was wearing that evening did little to show her figure in a favourable light. The shade was dull and dowdy, and it drained the natural colour from her face. She wore no necklace, only a tiny pair of plain gold earrings.

‘Agreed. I don't think any of her clothes actually touch her body except at the shoulders. She didn't always dress this way. I recall when she and I were girls, she was quite the kick,' Lucy replied.

Millie turned to face her. ‘So what happened? What changed to make her look like that? I swear every time I look at her gowns, all I can think of is the Spanish Inquisition.'

A sense of overwhelming sadness touched Lucy's heart as she remembered how shattered Clarice had been at the sudden death of her mother.

‘Clarice's mother died in an accident three years ago. Poor girl; she was so overcome with shock and grief, she has been in mourning ever since,' she replied.

Millie gasped and brought a hand to her chest.

‘How terrible! Poor Clarice. What happened to her mother?'

‘The countess fell down a flight of stairs and broke her neck,' Lucy replied, blinking away a tear. ‘Clarice and I were quite close when we were younger, but since her mother's death she has restricted herself to only a handful of friends. All of whom I suspect were chosen by her father.'

Millie frowned. She knew that small group included Lady Susan Kirk. The spiteful young woman had taken particular delight in Millie's heartache over the misplaced letter earlier in the season.

Lucy watched as her sister's gaze followed David and Clarice. She heard Millie suck in a deep breath before uttering, ‘Yes, a perfect solution.'

Lucy harrumphed. ‘Are you going to let me in on your big secret, or do I have to listen to you muttering incoherently under your breath for the rest of the evening?'

Millie looked back over her shoulder, in the direction of Lady Alice. Clarice's grandmother was talking to the Duchess of Strathmore. Millie smiled once at the two ladies, and then again at Lucy.

‘I think it's time Clarice had some help. Her wardrobe is abysmal. If I had to wear those clothes every day, I too would be a timid wallflower. Under that mess of lavender, I suspect there is a butterfly just waiting to spread her wings.

‘While we cannot bring back her beloved mother, we can do something about ensuring her future happiness. David would do anything for her. I think if she starts to believe in herself, then perhaps she may begin to believe in him. Fortunately, we have an appointment with the
modiste
later this week. An invitation from the Duchess of Strathmore and her daughters to go shopping is unlikely to be refused.'

Lucy stepped forward and squeezed Millie's hand. ‘I knew Alex had chosen right when he fell in love with you. Is your plan the reason why Mama has suddenly found the need to enquire as to Lady Alice's health? I did think she and Papa were overplaying the attentive hosts at the opera last week. Don't tell me Mama has also decided to enlist in David's campaign to win Clarice over?'

‘I think she may have. I know she has a tender spot for him,' Millie replied.

Millie took hold of Lucy's arm and pulled her in close. ‘Much as we both would love to see our brother happily married, we have to bear Clarice's wishes in mind,' she said.

Lucy scowled. ‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean, we should not assume that she holds him in the same regard. Of course she now knows that he wrote that love letter, but to be honest, have you seen her exhibit any sign that she reciprocates his affections? We need to tread very carefully. We cannot make the mistake of assuming that just because we wish them to be together, it will be so.'

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