Page 54 of A Captain For Clarissa
The earl’s fists clenched, his knuckles white. “She’ll have you nowhere, once I’m through. I’ll not see her ruined by the likes of you.”
Rafael’s heart hammered, but he stood firm. “I would never ruin her. I love her, more than my own life.”
“Love?” the earl scoffed. “What has love to do with anything? You’re a penniless foreigner, a nobody. You bring nothing to this union.”
Nothing but my heart, Rafael thought.And my honour, for whatever that’s worth in this glittering world of facades.
Aloud, he said, “I bring my devotion, my loyalty. I will work tirelessly to give Clarissa the life she deserves.”
“Pretty words.” The earl sneered at him. “They’ll mean little when you’re starving in the gutter.”
Rafael lifted his chin, his resolve hardening. “I will not compromise my values, not for status or approval. If I must prove myself worthy, I’ll do so through my actions, not by bending to the whims of fashion.”
The Earl’s face darkened to puce. “Then prove yourself from Portugal. You set foot near Clarissa again, and I’ll have you exiled. That is a promise.”
With that, he spun on his heel and stalked away, leaving Rafael alone in the glittering ballroom, his future hanging by a thread.
“Pay no heed to Arthur.” He turned to see Marianne smiling up at him. “His bark is far worse than his bite. I shall be reminding him of what happened the last time he attempted to intervene in a love match.”
“And what did happen, Lady Glenkellie?” She gestured to him to lead her out on the dance floor, and he obliged, ignoring the disapproving expressions of those who thought him unfit to dance with a marchioness.
“A swan,” Marianne said cryptically, giggling at his confused expression. “Let me just say that divine justice was meted out and Arthur has been a better man for it - for the most part. Leave him and Lavinia to me. Alex is going to take you to his club and introduce you to a few influential gentlemen whose good opinion will carry a great deal of weight in the ton.”
“Such as?” Rafael asked a little doubtfully.
“Senior military gentlemen who don’t bother with this sort of nonsense.” Marianne gestured around them, a gesture of disdain for the frippery and gossip being indulged in by those around them. “Men who will understand and respect exactly who you are, what you have been through and the challenges you now face, because many of them fought in the Peninsular Campaign. You’ll see.”
He did not like having to trust his and Clarissa’s fate to others, but Marianne had never been anything but supportive of his suit. He bowed to her at the end of the dance and thanked her sincerely.
“You are most welcome. Now. Here is my friend Lady Havers… Ellen, do let me present Captain de Silva! He most kindly hosted us at his beautiful castle in Portugal, such magnificent countryside!” Marianne’s normally soft voice was quite loud, and several nearby ladies and gentlemen looked at each other in confusion, obviously wondering if the stories they had heard were quite accurate, if the Marchioness of Glenkellie was praising this gentleman so strongly.
Lady Havers was a pretty dark-haired woman in her early twenties wearing a stunning blue gown. She smiled up at him warmly. “Any friend of Marianne’s is a friend of mine,” she said sincerely.
“He and Clarissa are in love and Arthur’s being painful,” Marianne said in an undertone, so that only Ellen and Rafael heard.
“I see! How very… Arthur of him.” Ellen laughed gently. “Let us see what we can do, then. Come and meet my husband, Captain. He’s a foreigner too,” she confided, linking her arm through his and drawing him through the crowd. “American. Caused quite a stir in the ton with his new-fangled ideas when he inherited the earldom, I can tell you.”
Rafael liked Thomas Havers at once; the American earl gave off an air of steady calm which felt intensely reassuring. He was surrounded by a group of men who proved to be not only impressively titled but influential in the political sphere. With Thomas’s immediate acceptance of him at Ellen’s introduction and the friendly attitude of the gentlemen with him, Rafael could almost feel the tide of opinion in the room begin to turn in his favour.
Even Lady Belmont, one of the Ton’s most notorious gossips, was heard to remark, “Perhaps there’s more to that Portuguese fellow than meets the eye.”
“He’s certainly handsome enough,” Lady Jersey replied. “Can’t blame the Creighton gel in the slightest. If I was twenty years younger…”
“Try thirty!” Lady Belmont retorted, before both ladies laughed wickedly.
And then, to Rafael’s utter astonishment, a matronly lady in a lavish gown approached, a blushing young woman at her side, nudging Ellen to introduce them.
“Lady Partlebury, Miss Partlebury,” Ellen said with a small smile, “allow me to introduce Captain Rafael de Silva.”
“Captain de Silva,” Lady Partlebury twittered eagerly. “My daughter Amelia is most eager to make your acquaintance.”
Rafael blinked, scarcely able to believe the sudden change in his fortunes. The once hostile stares had transformed into appraising glances, the sneers replaced by coy smiles.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Partlebury,” he managed, bowing politely over her gloved hand. His mind whirled with the implications of this unexpected development. Could it be that the tide was truly turning? That the Ton was beginning to see him as more than a foreign interloper?
As more ladies began to approach, their eager daughters in tow, Rafael couldn’t help but marvel at the power of perception. How quickly opinions could change, how easily prejudice could be swayed by the endorsement of a respected few.
The same happened when Alex took him to his club. The Duke of Wellington himself was present, and with one glance at Rafael’s uniform, rose and offered his hand. “An honour to have you join us, Captain,” he said in fluent Portuguese, even before Alex had made the introductions.
