Page 12 of Miss Debenham's Secret
Clarissa was finding it very difficult to look at him.She felt like a silly fool; an innocent fool.He’d rejected her.Twice.Wasn’t that enough for her?And yet, despite her feelings of anger and humiliation, she knew she still wanted him.
Her heart ached in a way it never had before.Even in her worst moments with her father, or Mr.Marly, she had never felt like this.
She wanted Alistair despite the fact that he did not want her and nothing he said or did could change that.
Did that make her even more of a fool?She supposed it did and yet ...she loved him.And it wasn’t a silly girly sort of love either, it was a strong womanly love, the sort of love that wanted to be with him, to lay with him beside her, to share in all the trials and tribulations she knew would come to them, and not care.
But she could see it was impossible to tell him that.
Alistair had made up his mind.He was going to do the gentlemanly thing, he was going to spare her from making ‘a terrible mistake’ and nothing she said or did was going to change his mind.
She was his friend; that was what he’d said.
The air was chill now that the rain had stopped and she pulled her shawl closer about her with a shiver—it was Annie’s shawl really but the kind girl had pressed it into her hands as they were leaving, insisting it was too cold to be without it.The sky was clear though, and the stars beamed brightly down upon them as Alistair drove the carriage through the night toward Lyme.
They were together and yet she had never felt so alone.
“Clarissa?”
She was tempted to ignore him, pretend not to hear him, or tell him to be quiet, like the children at school.The thought made her smile, and smiling made her feel a little better.
“Clarissa, I am so sorry.I know I handled things badly, and believe me I would have wanted nothing more than to be with you tonight, but ...surely you can see how impossible it is?”
Clarissa shrugged her shoulder.
When Annie had given her the shawl, Clarissa had seen from the expression on her face that she had seen them kissing.Would she tell?Probably.Gossip would spread to Lyme in no time at all.It wouldn’t have made much difference if Alistair had spent the night in bed with her, because the story would become more lurid with each mile it travelled.
Although she had done nothing so very bad she knew she would still be tarred with the brush of one who had.
“Are we still friends?”he said quietly, and she felt his eyes on her.“Will you forgive me?”
She forced herself to turn with a smile.She didn’t want him to think she was sulking, and nor did she want him to know how much she was in love with him.She had her pride, after all.It was the only thing she did have.
“Of course,” she said brightly, falsely.
He looked uncertain but then he nodded, returning her smile, choosing to believe her.“Good.I am glad, Clarissa.”
They made the remainder of the journey mostly in silence and Clarissa was hoping that her father might have gone to bed.Morning would be soon enough to face his wrath.But when they turned into Clarissa’s street she could see the light in the downstairs window of her cottage and knew with a sinking heart that of course her father hadn’t gone to bed as she’d hoped.He was waiting for her.
They had barely pulled up outside when the door was flung open and there he was, dishevelled, wearing his slippers and his dressing gown, though clearly not just out of bed.
“Clarissa?Where on earth have you been?”He was obviously angry but worried too.
“Mr.Debenham.”It was Alistair who climbed down and went to meet him, while Clarissa composed herself.“I apologise, I am so sorry.This is all my fault.We went sailing and the boat capsized and then it began to rain.We had to stay at the inn until it cleared.”
“Sailing?”Her father’s eyes seemed to pop out of his head.“No one told me anything about sailing.”
Alistair glanced over his shoulder, “Ah no, it ...it ...”
But Clarissa couldn’t let him take the brunt of her punishment any longer.“I’m sorry too, father.We went sailing, as Alistair says, and I didn’t tell you because I knew you would object.The boat turned over, but we are quite safe.It was truly lovely, until ...well until we capsized.”
There was no need to further spoil the memories of the day by telling him she hadn’t known they were going sailing—that it had been a surprise.Her father would be angry but he would be angry anyway, and she wanted him not to think badly of Alistair, who would soon be gone from her life forever.What her father thought of her was of no importance, not now, not ever again.Having spent most of her life trying to please him suddenly she realised she no longer cared what he thought.
“A daughter of mine ...how could you ...Don’t you realise what will be said?...Go inside.This instant.Wait for me in the parlour.I haven’t finished with you.”
She hesitated but Alistair nodded and she went, head high, back straight, her face red from the humiliation of her father’s behaviour.He was right, of course; her reputation would be ruined but she didn’t need him to tell her that.Tears stung her eyes and slid down her cheeks.
Outside she could hear raised voices, mainly her father’s, and after a moment the sound of the horse and carriage leaving.She stood with her back to the parlour, staring out of the window and seeing nothing, until she heard her father’s steps approaching.
