Page 58 of A Captain For Clarissa
“In fact,” Alex continued, his gaze sweeping the room, “Captain de Silva has been at my house every evening last week. I can provide multiple witnesses to corroborate this, as my wife the Marchioness and I have been entertaining every night at dinner and the captain is residing with us, an honoured guest in our home.”
The actress faltered, her confident demeanour crumbling. “But... I... that is...”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd as the woman’s act fell apart.
“I do not even know your name, madam,” Rafael said, his deep voice carrying. “I fear I have never laid eyes on you before this moment. Perhaps you have me confused with someone else?”
“I…” the actress looked around, desperately seeking a supportive face, or, failing that, an escape. “Yes… perhaps I have.”
“Then I shall bid you a good evening,” Rafael said politely.
Edward clenched his fists, watching helplessly as his carefully crafted plan unravelled before his eyes.
Rafael’s sea-green eyes met Edward’s across the room, a mixture of relief and suspicion in their depths. Edward quickly averted his gaze, his mind racing.
“Blast it all,” he muttered under his breath, tugging at his cravat as sweat beaded on his brow. He needed a new strategy, and fast.
A desperate idea began to form in Edward’s mind. If he couldn’t destroy Rafael’s reputation, perhaps he could force Clarissa’s hand another way. It was risky, but he was running out of options.
“Very well,” he muttered grimly. “If this is how the game must be played, so be it. Clarissa will be mine, one way or another.”
With renewed determination, Dalton slipped out of the ballroom, his mind already formulating his next move. He had one last card to play, and he intended to use it to devastating effect.
Another evening, another boring private dinner where there was no chance she would see Rafael. Another collection of dull-as-ditchwater potential suitors. Clarissa wanted to tear at her hair and scream.
Perhaps they’ll think I’m mad, she thought irreverently.That might discourage a few of them, at least.
At least tonight she had her sister for company. Diana sat further up the table, of course, as a duchess she was one of the most important guests present. Her husband Will, the Duke of Balford, came to Clarissa’s rescue more than once during the evening, deflecting some of her more persistent suitors.
“Are you quite all right?” Will asked in an undertone. “You look quite pale.”
“I’m hating every moment of this,” Clarissa said with blunt honesty, remembering how much she had always liked Will when he gave her a conspiratorial grin.
“Why don’t you sneak through that door behind you into the library and hide out for a few minutes by yourself? I’ll claim I haven’t seen you.”
“Bless you, brother.” She gave him the first real smile she’d managed that evening, stole his brandy glass from his hand and took an unladylike gulp before handing it back. “I won’t be gone too long, I promise.”
Will’s chuckle was cut off by the door clicking shut behind her.
The library was blissfully quiet, entirely empty, and pleasantly well lit. Well enough for her to be able to read the titles of the books on the shelves, most of which looked as though they had never been touched. Clarissa spent a happy few minutes browsing before the sound of a door opening made her whirl around. Edward Dalton was just entering the library, by a different door to the one she had used, smiling at her and then closing the door behind him.
Clarissa was suddenly acutely aware that they were alone.
“Mr. Dalton,” she said, lifting her chin proudly. “If you’ll excuse me.” She marched towards the other door, fully intending to re-enter the fray. Better that than to be alone with this man.
Dalton’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “If you’ll allow me just a moment of privacy, my dear Lady Clarissa, I’m afraid I have some rather distressing news to share with you.”
Clarissa’s brow furrowed as she turned to look at him suspiciously. “What news might that be?”
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It concerns your... unfortunate adventure in Athens. Your kidnapping by corsairs, your days in captivity, and your dashing rescue by Captain de Silva. Quite the scandal, wouldn’t you agree?”
Clarissa’s hands trembled as she fought to maintain her composure. “How dare you,” she hissed. “That’s a private matter.”
“Private for now,” Dalton agreed. “But imagine if word were to spread throughout London society. Your reputation would be in tatters.”
A cold dread settled in Clarissa’s stomach as she realised the full implications of his threat. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dalton’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “It’s quite simple, my dear. Agree to marry me, and I’ll ensure this sordid tale never sees the light of day.”
