Page 59 of A Captain For Clarissa
Clarissa’s mind whirled, torn between outrage and fear. How could she possibly agree to such a demand? And yet, if word of her kidnapping spread, it would destroy not only her reputation but her family’s as well. Her younger sisters might never be able to marry. Even Diana might be harmed by the rumours.
“You’re despicable,” she spat, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.
“Perhaps,” Dalton shrugged. “But I’m also your only option. What will it be, Lady Clarissa? Marriage, or scandal?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Clarissa’s heart skipped abeat as Dalton’s words hung in the air. Suddenly, something she should have realised before snapped into place in her mind.
“Wait,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “How did you know about the corsairs?”
Dalton’s easy smile faltered, his blue eyes darting to the side. “I beg your pardon?”
Clarissa’s fingers tightened on her skirts, the delicate silk threatening to tear under her grip. “The corsairs, Edward. You mentioned them just now, as well as telling my parents about it in Portugal, but I never told you about that part of my... ordeal.”
A bead of sweat trickled down Dalton’s temple. He cleared his throat, adjusting his cravat. “Oh, I’m sure you must have mentioned it at some point, my dear.”
“No,” Clarissa said, her voice gaining strength as certainty settled in her chest like a stone. “I most certainly did not.”
She took a step closer, the rustle of her gown seeming unnaturally loud in the sudden silence between them.
“Edward,” she said, her tone deceptively light, “is there something you’re not telling me?”
Dalton’s charming façade cracked further, revealing a glimpse of something darker beneath. “Clarissa, darling, you’re imagining things.”
Clarissa’s thoughts whirled like a dervish.How could he know? Who could have told him?
Dalton reached out to her, but she instinctively slapped his hand away, taking a swift step back. “Don’t you dare touch me. Tell me the truth. Now.”
Dalton’s hand fell limply to his side, his former confidence evaporating. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously.
“I... I...” he stammered, eyes darting around as if searching for an escape. “Lady Helena told me. The dowager Lady Glenkellie, I mean.”
Clarissa’s eyes narrowed, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. The lie was as transparent as glass. Lady Helena could be forthright, but she would never in a hundred years have said something so indiscreet and damaging to Clarissa’s reputation. “You expect me to believe that?” she hissed, taking a step closer to him.
Dalton stumbled back, nearly tripping over a small table. “It’s true!” he insisted, his voice rising an octave. “She... she was concerned about you. Wanted me to keep an eye on you.”
The absurdity of his claim only fuelled Clarissa’s anger. Lady Helena, betray her in such a way? The very thought was an insult. “Edward Dalton,” she said, her voice low and dangerous, “you are many things, but I never took you for a fool. Do you truly think I would fall for such an obvious falsehood?”
His handsome face contorted, desperation replacing his usual easy smile. “Clarissa, please,” he pleaded, reaching for her again. “You must understand—“
She jerked away, disgust roiling in her stomach. “Understand what? That you’ve been lying to me? That you know far more about my ordeal than you should?” Her voice rose with each question.
As Dalton floundered for a response, Clarissa’s mind raced. How deep did his deception go? And more importantly, what was she going to do about it?
Clarissa’s eyes narrowed as she studied Dalton’s face, searching for any hint of truth. “You’re not denying it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You lied about Lady Helena.”
Dalton’s shoulders sagged, the fight seemingly draining out of him. “Clarissa, I—“
But she was no longer listening. Her mind whirled, piecing together fragments of conversations, odd glances, and inexplicable coincidences. The horrible realisation crashed over her like a wave.
“The only way you could know...” she began, her voice trembling with a mixture of fury and disbelief. “The only possible explanation is that you were involved somehow.”
Dalton paled, confirming her suspicions before he could utter a word.
Clarissa felt as though the ground had fallen away beneath her feet. “Dear God,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “What have you done?”
She straightened her spine, summoning every ounce of strength she possessed. “Tell me the truth, Edward,” she demanded, her voice ringing with authority she didn’t know she had. “I want to hear every sordid detail of your involvement in my kidnapping. And may God have mercy on your soul if you lie to me again.”
