Page 55 of A Captain For Clarissa
“The honour is mine, your grace,” Rafael returned with a deep bow.
“None of that, now. Some brandy!” The duke gestured to the waiter. “Take a seat and tell me about your ship, young man.”
Clarissa’s heart sank as her mother’s iron grip tightened around her wrist, pulling her inexorably towards the ballroom exit. She craned her neck for one last glimpse of Rafael.
“Come along, Clarissa,” the Countess hissed, her voice barely audible above the strains of the orchestra. “We are leaving this instant.”
Clarissa stumbled slightly, her silk slippers catching on the polished parquet floor. “But Mother, surely we can stay a little longer? The evening has barely begun.”
“I will not have you associating with that... that fortune hunter,” her mother snapped, tugging Clarissa along like an errant child.
Clarissa’s cheeks burned with indignation. How dare her mother speak of Rafael that way?
As they reached the cloakroom, Clarissa’s thoughts whirled in a maelstrom of emotion. The scent of Rafael’s sandalwood cologne still clung to her gloves from their brief dance. She inhaled deeply, savouring the memory of his strong arms around her waist, his sea-green eyes gazing into hers with such tender intensity.
“I cannot believe you would embarrass us so, dancing with that Portuguese upstart,” her mother muttered as she roughly fastened Clarissa’s cloak. “What will people say?”
Clarissa lifted her chin defiantly. “They will say that I danced with a brave and honourable man, Mother. Captain de Silva is no fortune hunter.”
The Countess’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You know nothing of the world, foolish girl. Now come, our carriage awaits.”
As they swept down the marble steps, the cool night air kissed Clarissa’s flushed cheeks. She cast one last longing glance at the glowing windows of the ballroom, wondering if Rafael was searching for her even now.
“This is for your own good, Clarissa,” her mother said, her tone softening slightly. “You’ll thank me one day when you’re safely married to a respectable English gentleman.”
Clarissa bit back a retort, knowing it would fall on deaf ears. As she climbed into the carriage, she vowed silently that this would not be the last time she saw Rafael de Silva. Somehow, some way, she would find a way to be with the man who had captured her heart.
Chapter Twenty
The following days passedin a blur of tedious social calls and carefully curated events. Clarissa found herself longing for the vibrant energy of the grand balls, but her mother remained steadfast in her decision.
“Lady Ashbourne’s intimate soirée this evening, my dear,” the Countess announced one afternoon, adjusting her daughter’s lace collar. “A select gathering of only the most refined company.”
Clarissa sighed inwardly. “And I suppose Captain de Silva won’t be in attendance?”
Her mother’s lips thinned. “Certainly not. Lady Ashbourne assured me of it. Really, Clarissa, you must put that man out of your mind. Now, sit down and pen a thank-you note to Lord Pembrook for the flowers he sent you.” With a final stern glance,the countess left the room, leaving Clarissa alone, obviously expecting her daughter to meekly obey.
“Lord Pembrook! Flowers!” She did not even know which of the multitude of arrangements decorating the tables around the room the lord had sent, and she did not care. He could whistle for his thank-you note! Clarissa paced the drawing room, her curls bouncing with each agitated step. A knock at the door caused her to spin around, her eyes wide with anticipation. Had Rafael somehow come to her?
The butler opened the door and announced, “Her Grace, the Duchess of Balford.”
Not Rafael, but a truly welcome visitor. “Diana!” Clarissa rushed forward and embraced her sister tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Diana returned the hug, her gentle eyes filled with warmth. “Of course I came, dearest. How could I not, after receiving your letter? I’m so eager to meet your dashing Captain de Silva!”
Clarissa pulled back, searching her sister’s face. “And you don’t mind about Rafael? That he’s not...not exactly what Father had in mind for me?”
Diana laughed, a tinkling sound that instantly set Clarissa at ease. “Mind? Whyever would I mind? He sounds perfectly lovely from your description. A dashing sea captain, nobly serving his country despite misfortune. It’s all delightfully romantic.”
Relief washed over Clarissa like a soothing balm. She had been terrified that even Diana might not understand her feelings for Rafael. But she should have known better. Dear, sweet Diana had always supported her, no matter what.
“He is lovely,” Clarissa said with a dreamy sigh. “And brave, and honourable, and handsome as sin. Oh Diana, I do love him so. I can scarcely think of anything else.”
“Then that’s all that matters.” Diana took Clarissa’s hands in hers, her expression turning earnest. “If you love him, and he loves you in return, then you must follow your heart. Life is too short to let others dictate your happiness.”
Tears pricked at the corners of Clarissa’s eyes. How had she been so lucky, to have a sister as wonderful as Diana? “Thank you,” she whispered. “Your support means the world to me.”
Diana smiled, then looped her arm through Clarissa’s and began leading her towards the settee. “Now, you must tell me absolutely everything about your dashing captain. I want to know precisely how he swept you off your feet. Leave out no detail, no matter how small. I insist on hearing the whole thrilling tale.”
