Clarissa had a tongue in her head and the brain to wield it in a most entertaining manner.
He did not think he would ever grow bored with Clarissa.
He was certain Clarissa was the ideal choice.
He was equally certain, most of the time, that Clarissa saw him in the same light.
Of what could she complain? He was well propertied, well titled, well fixed, and… he did not want her to want him for those reasons. Blast, but he would have her wanting him for himself and not what he brought to the union, though it went against all logic for him to wish it. Should he even want a woman who would throw all sense aside to listen to her heart? No, and yet he did.
And no matter what Russell said, he was certain that she wanted him for those things that could not be listed on a clerk's ledger. That is, he was certain most of the time.
All good intentions aside, he had not been able to leave Clarissa and her brothers behind him on his ride. Still, it had been good to get out into the air. He felt better for it.
Until he saw Dalton waiting for him at the stable as he returned his mount.
"I hate to say it, since I consider you a friend," Dalton said with a huge grin, "but you seem to be something of a fool, Beau."
Beau dismounted and handed the horse off to the groom.
"In the name of that friendship, I will refrain from calling you out," Beau said with the barest hint of a smile.
Dalton bowed. "Thank you, Lord Montwyn. But you have been fool enough to let it be known that you were in the possession of an Irish estate, and that has put you firmly on her list."
"List?" Beau said as he walked out, Dalton matching his stride.
"Oh, yes, let me inform you of the method that my darling sister is implementing in her quest to obtain for herself the ideal husband."
"You mock her, yet it shows sense," Beau said. Perhaps his personal attributes were mentioned on the list.
"Oh, good sense, I will agree," Dalton said, laughing. "At the top of her list is the necessity for her future husband to be the lord of an Irish estate. The second requirement, which naturally follows and which you can hardly debate the wisdom of, is an annual income of not less than thirty thousand pounds a year, for how can an Irish estate be maintained for less?"
"In addition to a home or two in England," Beau added calmly. "She shows a rare inclination for management. You must give my compliments to your sister."
Dalton merely smiled and kept walking, swinging his stick most irritatingly.
She wanted him; that matched with Lindley's impression. But for his Irish lands? He would not believe it. He had seen her eyes when she looked at him and watched the thrumming of her blood in the slender stem of her throat; she wanted him. Let her tell her brothers that it was his Irish lands that compelled her to him, if it suited her, but he knew the spark of female interest when it landed in his lap, so to speak. She had him on her shopping list of possible husbands for more flattering reasons than property and income.
"Our Clarissa," Dalton said, "is a very clever, very levelheaded girl. No limp sentiment for her. I will deliver your compliments to my sister, Lord Montwyn."
Dalton bowed and left Beau at Grosvenor Place and Piccadilly. Beau did not return the bow; he walked on, more determined than ever to prove, at least to himself, how very wrong Clarissa was if she thought to have him for his property alone.
Another evening's entertainment to be readied for. In truth, she found she was looking forward to it. She was more than certain that Beau would be there, and the knowledge made her preparations all the more enjoyable. Tonight she would wear the pale green gown with light pink and wine red embroidered blossoms strewn about the neckline; the ruby necklace from her mother would do well with it.
Albert requested entry as she was choosing her gloves and fan; she kept her manner light, though she could feel her heart sink within her chest.
"Good evening, Clarissa," Albert said, choosing to remain standing though Clarissa had offered him a chair. "I don't mean to interrupt, but have you met anyone who might be suitable?"
Uncharitable thoughts and hard words rose in her mind, but she subdued them. Instead she tossed him her list with a carelessness she did not feel. Let her list speak for her. He would see how far he had pushed her. He would see to what lengths she had been driven in the name of familial duty and feminine submission.
She regally pulled on a glove as she awaited his declamations of sorrow, regret, and guilt.
"I commend you, Clarissa," Albert said. She turned to face him. His face was radiant with joy and pride. "You display a level of intelligence about the whole matter of choosing a spouse that I find wholly admirable. If more young women were of your caliber, Britain would have more productive marriages. In fact, I can think of a few names you may have overlooked in ignorance. You will allow me to add them?" Clarissa nodded dumbly. "Lord Chister has a lovely park in Tipperary as well as a small manor in France, now under dispute, of course, but that may right itself and must be considered, don't you think?"
"Naturally," Clarissa managed stiffly. "A manor in France would be delightful."
"And then there is old Lord Baring, who is of an age to need a nurse more than a wife, but one cannot ignore the fact that he is in possession of the finest estate in Kildare. I can see you now in his yellow salon… a striking portrait, if I do say. You are a clever girl to keep your head about you so well when so many girls flit off with the first pretty man with curling hair who happens to bow before them. Well, I won't detain you, seeing that you have the matter so well in hand. Given your abilities, I should not be surprised by a Christmas wedding, I tell you. Well done, Clarissa!"
He strode to the door of her chamber, and she could hardly find the words to bid him good night.
"You are satisfied, then?" she managed to say.
Albert turned at the door and considered her. She looked as forlorn as a pup in the rain, though he knew she was unaware of it. "More than satisfied-proud, if you must know. You are being remarkably reasonable about the whole business. Most gratifying. Shows the makings of a splendid wife." And he turned and left.
Once in the privacy of the hall, Albert gave in to the laugh he had been swallowing for the past ten minutes. Gad, that should do it. She'd drop the whole notion of the list now that she had been commended for it.
He hadn't missed the significance of Montwyn's name appearing with the rest. Oh, yes, the man had an Irish estate, but he was also well titled and of a firm and unyielding temperament: perfect for his young sister. That was a match well made; he could hardly have done better himself for her.
Resuming his characteristic stoic demeanor, Albert retired to his study to await the eventual-one could almost say inevitable-arrival of Lord Montwyn. One truth he had spoken: he anticipated a Christmas wedding. To be sure, Montwyn, from all that he had heard of the man, was not one to dally.
Chapter Five
The dinner was sumptuous, the company pleasing, the house spectacular, and Clarissa was trying very hard to appear to be enjoying herself. It did not help that the man seated to her right was Lord Baring, who was not only the possessor of the finest estate in Kildare, but of a very poorly designed set of false teeth. He was making quite a mess of his capon. She was trying desperately not to hear him wetly gumming the small bones of the bird in his mouth. Most unappetizing, even if his estate was glorious.
Matters were not helped in that Beau was seated halfway down and across the table next to a very pretty blond woman, Lady Elena Montaine, who appeared from this distance to be absolutely captivated by every utterance of Lord Montwyn. And Lord Montwyn appeared most gratified by her blatant attentions.