Page 45 of A Captain For Clarissa
And with those words, the dam broke. Clarissa buried her face in Marianne’s shoulder and sobbed, her body shaking with the force of her grief. She clung to the older woman like a drowning sailor to a life raft, desperate for any shred of comfort or solace.
Marianne held her close, stroking her hair and whispering words of reassurance. But even as she did so, Clarissa could sense the helplessness in her aunt’s touch, the knowledge that there was nothing either of them could do to change the situation.
“I can’t marry him, Marianne,” Clarissa choked out between sobs. “I can’t. I’d rather die than spend my life with a horrible old man.”
Marianne’s arms tightened around her. “I know, my dear. I know. But we must have faith. Surely there must be some way to change your father’s mind, to make him see reason.”
Clarissa shook her head, her tears soaking into the fine silk of Marianne’s gown. “There’s no use. He’s determined to see memarried, no matter what I want. Oh, Marianne, what am I going to do?”
But even as she asked the question, Clarissa knew there was no answer. She was trapped, caught between the demands of her family and the desires of her own heart. She could only cling to Marianne and weep, her dreams of a happy future shattered beyond repair.
Chapter Sixteen
Rafael sat frozen atthe head of the table, his heart an aching void in his chest as he watched Clarissa flee the dining room after her father’s pronouncement. The room was brightly lit with candles and lamps, but Rafael felt only darkness encroaching, suffocating him. If only he had found the courage to tell her how he truly felt! But his damnable pride and baseless jealousy had held his tongue captive. Now it was too late.
Marianne rose from her seat and went after Clarissa, leaving everyone else looking at each other in uncertain silence - everyone except Mr Dalton, Rafael noted, who picked up his knife and fork and began cutting into his meat, as though it was not his careless words which had ignited the Earl’s fury and sealed Clarissa’s fate.
Dinner concluded in silence. Neither Marianne nor Clarissa returned, and Rafael heard his mother speak quietly to a maid,ordering food to be sent up to their rooms. He wondered if Clarissa would be able to eat. He had not been able to choke anything down, merely pushing the food around his plate.
As soon as possible after the meal, he made his excuses and escaped, going outside to the terrace to pace in silent desperation.
Somehow, it wasn’t surprising that Alex came after him.
“You’re a fool, you know,” Alex said softly, clapping a heavy hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “A damned fool not to go after her and declare yourself.”
Rafael jerked away, a mirthless laugh escaping his lips. “And say what exactly? That I allowed my own insecurities to poison what grew between us? That I cannot bear the thought of her belonging to another?” He shook his head. “No, better she leave thinking me an irredeemable scoundrel. At least then she may forget me in time.”
“Rafael, surely you don’t mean that. Clarissa cares for you deeply, anyone can see it. This cannot be how your story ends.”
“But it must,” Rafael ground out, his throat tight with barely restrained anguish. “Her life is in England, amongst the glittering ton, not wasted on a penniless sea captain with naught to offer but a dilapidated vineyard and a fool’s dreams.”
He swallowed hard, forcing his next words past the lump in his throat. “I thank you and Lady Glenkellie, for everything. Will you... will you watch over her? See that she is happy?”
“Of course,” Alex murmured quietly. “Marianne would not have it otherwise. And don’t abandon all hope just yet, old friend. If it’s meant to be, you’ll find your way back to each other. Amor vincit omnia, and all that.”
He knew something of Alex and Marianne’s story, how Marianne’s father had forced her into an arranged marriage when Alex was sent away to war, and it was not until after Marianne was widowed that they found their way back to each other. Such a distant, nebulous possibility was no comfort whatsoever to Rafael, though. And the mere thought of Clarissa wed to an old man who would surely crush all the vitality from her spirit made him want to scream his rage at the night.
Alex stepped away with a quiet murmur that he must see to the packing, and left Rafael alone.
He turned slowly, each step leaden, and blew out a deep breath as he looked up at the crumbling facade of his home. There was work to be done. Always more work. Perhaps if he threw himself into the business of the vineyard, the repairs to the estate, his duty to his sister and mother, he could forget the gaping wound where his heart used to reside. Where Clarissa used to reside.
But even as he told himself to let her go, Rafael knew forgetting Clarissa would be as impossible as forgetting how to breathe. She was in his very marrow now. All he could do was carry on, rebuild his life from the ashes of today, and pray that someday - if fortune chose to smile upon him - he might have a chance to win her back.
Until then, he would remain Captain Rafael de Silva. Devoted son, brother, and defender of the seas. But never again a lover. For his heart was about to sail away to England, and he knew not if it would ever return.
Rafael entered the castle, his footsteps echoing through the halls. He found Isabella and Lucia in the salon, their faces stricken with sorrow. Isabella rushed to him, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Rafael, surely there must be something we can do! Clarissa loves you, I know it. You cannot let her go so easily,” Isabella pleaded, grasping his hands.
Rafael gently disentangled himself from her grip, his expression grave. “It is pointless, Isabella. Her father has already arranged her marriage. I cannot interfere with that.”
Lucia approached, her face etched with concern. “But Rafael, my son, if you love her...”
“It matters not,” Rafael interrupted, his voice strained. “We must bear this separation. There is nothing to be done.”
Isabella shook her head vehemently. “I refuse to believe that! You are the bravest man I know. You cannot simply give up!”
Rafael’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with barely contained emotion. “I am not giving up, Isabella. I am accepting reality. Clarissa’s place is in England, with her family, marrying the lord her father has chosen for her. Our place is here, rebuilding our lives. We must focus on that now.”
