To Love and Protect Page 30

  The women parted ways inside and when Clarissa came back down a footman had delivered tea along with a light repast to the parlor. The French doors were open, letting in a sliver of sun and a cool breeze. Each woman filled a small plate, and Clarissa poured tea into the cups.

  “Why are you under house arrest?” Mikala asked cutting to the heart of the issue, never one to skirt uncomfortable subjects.

  “I’m not sure I should tell.”

  “Something dangerous, is it?”

  “Yes,” Clarissa replied, taking a bite of a pastry.

  “I see. You know, I’ve just gotten through with a dangerous situation of my own. Perhaps Justin sent me over so you could talk with someone that would understand,” Mikala suggested lightly, giving the other woman the opportunity.

  “Did you help bring it to an end?”

  “Of course. I couldn’t sit by and let the men have all the fun,” Mikala threw back her head and laughed merrily. “In all truthfulness,” she became quite serious a moment later, “I should have let the men take care of it. If it hadn’t been for two very dear boys and their expert knowledge of the land around their home, I might not be sitting here talking to you today.”

  “Justin doesn’t want me to become involved. But I already am.”

  “He’s just protecting you.”

  “It’s more than that. I’m increasing,” Clarissa whispered the last two words after looking around furtively.

  “Ahhh. It happens to women every day,” Mikala whispered back. “It isn’t something one should whisper about as if ashamed.”

  “I think he might also despise me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “For the same reason.”

  “I don’t understand.” After swearing Mikala to secrecy, Clarissa quickly explained what her father had done. “I thought things like that were only put forth into wills.”

  “My father thought I would never marry, so this was his way of making sure I did. If I did not marry and produce a child within a certain time frame, then I would be disinherited. I would become a pauper. I suppose my father believed he was doing the right thing, but it has put a strain on our relationship.”

  “Whose?”

  “Everyone’s,” Clarissa said, a self-deprecating laugh escaping her. She threw her hands up in the air before letting them fall into her lap once more. “Mine and Papa’s. Mine and Justin’s. Justin and Papa’s. I’m not sure that any of us really trust the other anymore.”

  “And then you found out you were with child.”

  “Thought I was. You should have heard Justin.”

  “If he is anything like Gabe, I can just imagine. Wait, thought you were?”

  “Yes. A mysterious illness settled on me while in Scotland. Anyway, I wasn’t. However, I still knew how Justin felt about the situation. How I felt about it.”

  “Ah, but now you are.”

  “Yes, and I have been so ill the last week of our travels, it took me three days to recover once we arrived.”

  “You poor thing.”

  “But it gave me lots of time to think.”

  “About?”

  “I believe the babe should come after my birthday.”

  “You are counting on that, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Continue to be positive and take care of yourself, and you shouldn’t have anything to worry about,” Mikala replied cheerily. Both women fell into a contemplative silence. The clock in the hall began to chime the hour. “Oh, no. Gabe will be worried if I’m not home.”

  “Are you bending to your husband’s will?”

  “Appeasing him. The danger has passed,” she continued, “but Gabe is so used to worrying that he cannot seem to stop.”

  “I see.” Both women rose and Clarissa walked Mikala to the door. “Thank you for coming. I had almost begun to hold conversations with myself,” she chuckled.

  “You were the only woman who befriended me during my short lived season. I hope that we can still consider ourselves friends.”

  “Yes. And perhaps one day our stubborn husbands will put aside the past as well.”

  “You do not know Gabe as well as I thought you did. We will have to work on them a bit for that to come to fruition; although, I do believe it will. Gabe just needs some,” she hesitated as she searched for the right word, “time.”

  “Hawkescliffe frightened me at times.”

  “Oh, that is rich,” Mikala laughed huskily. “You know what else is funny?”

  “What is that?” Clarissa asked, her head cocked at an odd angle. The door stood open to the outside and several carriages passed up and down the road outside the townhouse.

  “We were each courted by the other’s husbands, and yet, here we are attempting a friendship.”

  “That is because we knew that there were no feelings involved with said previous relationships except perhaps friendship,” she quickly amended.

  “Yes,” Mikala agreed and impulsively hugged Clarissa. “I should be going. I promise to come back in a couple of days for another visit.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Clarissa stood on the stoop and waved until the Duke of Hawkescliffe’s carriage disappeared around a corner. Another carriage passed outside the house and appeared to almost come to a crawl as it rolled past. Clarissa looked back over her shoulder feeling as if she were being watched. The carriage seemed to speed up and leave the square. She shook her head and chastised herself for imagining things that were not happening.

  “Higgins,” she called out. The butler appeared in a matter of moments.

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Do you think the footmen could heat some water for me a bath?” she asked blushing.

  “Of course.”

  “And Higgins.” The old man paused and looked at her expectantly. “We need some female servants,” she suggested quietly. She listened as Higgins walked off muttering about a bachelor household. Giving the footmen the time they needed to move and fill the bath, she went back outside and gathered everything up and put it back in the gardening shed. She was shutting the door when the hairs on the nape of her neck stood in unease. Clarissa quickly turned and did a sweep of the garden area and the surrounding wall.

  “No one’s there,” she muttered to herself. “Quit being jumpy,” she firmly instructed before stiffening her spine, turning around, and retreating into the house. She resolutely shut the French doors behind her, making certain they were locked.

  ***

  “My lady, your bath is ready,” Higgins said dryly.

  “Thank you, Higgins.” She climbed the stairs and walked into the bedroom where the bath had been set up. Steam curled towards the ceiling beckoning her to come forward. Clarissa stripped carelessly, something she seldom did, and left a trail of clothes across the bedroom floor. She sank into the hot water.

  She reached for the soap, but found none there. Remembering that she had yet to retrieve her personal items from her father’s house, she glanced around the room wondering what to do. The bedroom door clicked shut and her heart raced, remembering the uneasy feeling she had shrugged off earlier.

  “Who’s there?” she called out, unable to see because her bath lay behind a screen.

  “It’s me. Were you expecting someone else?” Justin’s voice held a teasing quality.

  “No, it’s... Nevermind,” she said realizing that if she told him her thoughts, he would either yell at her for being outside, send her to Scotland, or perhaps do both. She had no intention of leaving his side. She decided that the only way to make him fall in love with her was to be a steady companion to him.

  “What’s going on, Clare?” he broke into her thoughts.

  “Nothing, I swear,” she replied a little too nervously. “Would you find me soap to finish bathing with?”

  “Here’s mine.” He walked around the screen and handed her the bar of soap. Clarissa looked up, not bothering to cover her nudity from his eyes. His face looked drawn and d
ark circles had formed under his eyes.

  “Is something wrong? You do not look as if you had a very good day.”

  “Indeed. But I don’t want to ruin your bath.”

  “I told Higgins earlier that we need to hire some female servants.”

  “This is pretty much set up to be a bachelor’s household, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but never fear, I am surviving. Thank you for asking Mikala to come over today. It was nice to have some female companionship.”

  “I thought you might need it.”

  “Sit over there while I finish my bath.” She inclined her head, indicating a chair near the cheerful fire, but still in view of her and vice versa.

  “Will it make you uncomfortable?” he queried, shrugging out of his coat and weskit.

  “Thank you for being concerned about my delicate sensibilities, but you have seen my nude form before.”

  “Indeed I have,” a roguish smile slanted across his full lips.

  “Why don’t you tell me what has you so worried?” She unconsciously ran her tongue along her dry lips, moistening them, as she watched her husband unwind his cravat, remove his collar, and slip open the top few buttons of his shirt. He looked absolutely delicious backlit by the fire, and she felt her mouth drooling as if her, were a piece of candy she wanted to savor.

  Justin lowered himself into the comfortable chair, stretched out his legs, and crossed them at the ankle. He openly watched her every move, not making a pretense of pretending that he did not.

  “What did you do today to get so dirty?”

  “Trimmed the rose arbor.”

  “What?” He sat straight up.

  “I trimmed the rose arbor,” she repeated a bit slower. “The garden is in a horrible state, and I was going crazy with boredom.”

  “You weren’t to leave the house.”

  “I didn’t. I was in our yard. There were people within yelling distance.”

  “Clarissa,” he growled and raked his fingers through his hair.

  “I’dm fine. Nothing happened.” They were quiet a moment. “Do you know, you use my Christian name when you are frustrated or angry with me. Otherwise, you use the shortened version.”

  “Oh? And which do you prefer?” he probed, returning to his rakish self once more.

  “Each has its merits,” she smiled. Relief settled on her as he returned her smile.

  “Franklin’s disappeared,” Justin stated in a monotone voice.

  Clarissa lost her grip on the soap she held, and it fell into the water, splashing her face. She fished around and found it before placing it in the soap dish on the little table next to the bathtub.

  “Do you mind saying that again?”

  “Franklin’s gone into hiding.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “We captured Lorraine this morning.”

  “Who is ‘we’?”

  “Me and several other agents from the Foreign Office.”

  “Why was the Foreign Office involved? Isn’t this merely a matter of fraud and theft? Can’t it be taken care of in court?” Justin looked at Clarissa before averting his face to look outside. “You might as well tell me.”

  “Lorraine told us everything today as we questioned her.”

  “Questioned her? What was there to tell? She married wealthy old men and killed them. It wasn’t surprising when the men died because they became ill, thanks to that old crone she received aid from, and because of their advanced age. Then she and Franklin would disappear with all the money they could carry, only to reinvent themselves for another setup.”

  “You are partly correct.”

  “Partly?”

  “Right after we found your father and before we boarded the ship to Scotland, I sent word to my director about what had happened because he wanted to be kept abreast of the situation. They made inquiries and kept a close eye on the two. They were having secret meetings with people who are dangerously close to being considered traitors.”

  “Why?”

  “Money. They are greedy people and have no morals.”

  “Why didn’t they disappear again? Why is she not waiting the full mourning period to marry Lord Marsden?”

  “She told him she was with child and that it’s his. He has no heirs and saw this as his opportunity to have a child to inherit the title.”

  “Is there a child?”

  “Time will tell, but my guess is no. A woman like that knows how to prevent such things from happening.”

  “Or if it does happen, how to make it disappear.”

  “Yes.”

  There was a long, silent pause. She stood and let the water cascade from her body before wrapping a cloth around her. “Wait, you said Lorraine had been captured. Does she know where Franklin is?”

  “If she does, she isn’t saying. She has been removed to Newgate until her trial.”

  “What will happen to her?”

  “We have agents that have seen her meeting with these spies and money exchanging hands. They will testify, and she will more than likely be hung as a traitor.”

  “Oh, dear,” she sat down heavily in a chair. “All of a sudden her subterfuge that she did against Papa doesn’t seem so bad, does it?”

  “Sadly, no.”

  “Do you have any suspicions as to where Franklin is?”

  “No. I think he probably has noticed that I am back in London.”

  “Do you think he knows we are together?”

  “I think that old woman we tied up made sure he knew everything and all the players involved.”

  “I had forgotten all about her. What do we do?”

  “I am going to have an agent or two pose as footmen to keep an eye on the house, and we are going to capture him as soon as possible.”

  “That means I am still under house arrest.”

  “I’m afraid so. It is for your own good. You must believe me about that.”

  Clarissa merely nodded her agreement. She started to tell him about the uneasy feeling she had this afternoon, but decided she just overreacted. Franklin had more than likely fled to another country by now. She had never met a more egotistical man and did not find it at all surprising that he would leave his wife to take the brunt of the punishment. A sound brought Clarissa out of her reverie, and she took in the melancholy expression on her husband’s face.

  “Don’t look so sad, Southerby,” she reprimanded.

  “How can you say that? I am forced to keep you a prisoner in our own home because of some maniac running loose.”

  “You are keeping me safe, and I am willingly allowing it. I do have an idea as to what would make the time pass faster.”

  “What is that?” he asked warily.

  “Gertie could come and see me as well as Kala. We also need some female servants, and I am sadly lacking in wardrobe. And don’t get me wrong, because I love how you smell, but I want to smell like a woman again.”

  “I want you to smell like a woman, too,” he growled as he stood, walked over to her, and lifted her into his arms.

  “Southerby, what are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I think you are in need of a nap.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, you soon will be,” he said wickedly, following her down to the mattress.

  ***

  Trapped! Her arms were pinned to her sides and she could not move. Franklin closed in on her. He brandished a knife in one hand, and a sinister sneer etched his face.

  “Leave me alone!” Clarissa screamed.

  “Oh, I think not. I’ve wanted you for too long to walk away now.”

  She refused to give him the pleasure of whimpering in fear, but could not hold back the silent tears that raced down her face. She knew he would kill her when he was finished with her. Of that there was no mistake. Her biggest regret would be not telling Justin how she felt about him. As if conjured by her thoughts, Justin entered the room behind Franklin.

  “Leave her alone,” he commanded. Anger
made his Scottish burr thick and difficult to even make out. Clarissa glanced down and noticed a large piece of timber on the floor. If only she could reach it, she could hit Franklin with it and disable him. But her arms refused to cooperate with her thoughts. In horror she watched as Franklin spun around. Somehow the knife had morphed into a gun, but Justin remained defenseless.

  Franklin pulled the trigger on his weapon, and the sound reverberated in her head. Blood spread sickeningly across Justin’s chest. His face did not mask his shock and pain as he fell to his knees.

  “Justin!” Clarissa screamed. She ran towards him, but felt herself picked up in mid-air and pinned against something, or someone, hard. She could only watch in horror, as his eyes grew vacant with every pulse of blood. He fell face down on the floor, his lifeblood spreading around him. Clarissa closed her eyes, trying to blank out the moist, heated breath against her neck. She kept repeating the words, “I love you,” as if they were a mantra that would bring Justin back to life, and in turn save her soul as well. But every time she looked, she only saw him lying on the floor in an ever-increasing pool of blood.

  Strong hands grabbed her upper arms, and she frantically began to fight against Franklin’s grip.

  “You bastard!” Clarissa screamed. “I will kill you, and I will do it myself!”

  “I will kill you. I will kill you. I will kill you.” Finally she realized someone shook her and called her name.

  Slowly her eyes fluttered open and for several moments found herself caught between nightmare and wakefulness. She still recited her mantra as if it gave her the strength to take another breath.

  “Clare, love, wake up.” She recognized Justin’s firm voice calling to her. Her eyes flew open, and she looked up into her husband’s worried countenance. She felt his hands relax their grip, and she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. Tear tracks coursed down her face. The nightmare had been so real. “What’s wrong?”

  He held her as if she were a fretful child, rocking her back and forth and lovingly rubbing her back. She realized then she must have been saying, “I love you,” out loud and that made her cry all the harder. Now he would know how she felt about him, but knowing he did not return the deeper emotions would kill her.