Page 22 of A Duke's Temptation Poetess
Clarissa nodded, unsure what else to add. This felt more like a performance than any real conversation. They were but two dancers, making certain that they made all the right steps. Their conversation was proper and inoffensive, like so many other words exchanged between members of the ton.
“What are your plans in Bath? After seeing your family, I mean,” the Duke said.
“I am unsure,” Clarissa replied. “I suppose it might be beneficial to visit one of the spas. My cousin speaks highly of the benefits which they bring to one’s health.”
His Grace hummed. “I suppose. That is why most visitors come to Bath.”
“Is that why your sister prefers the town?” Clarissa asked.
“Ah. She is a passionate historian,” His Grace said.
Clarissa raised an eyebrow. “A historian?”
The Duke of Hartingdale nodded. “She likes Bath because it has ruins from when the Romans were in Britain, among other things. My sister delights in seeing old things, and she likes to collect artifacts from by-gone eras. In the past, I have suggested that iswhyshe married her husband. He already had property here.”
“But why Bath specifically?” Clarissa asked. “Surely, there is history enough anywhere in Britain.”
“You would have to ask her that,” His Grace replied. “I will admit that I do not understand her fascination with old things, so I have never quite questioned it. She is lovely to listen to, though, because she has such passion for the past.”
When speaking of his sister, the Duke of Hartingdale’s face softened. He looked less like an infamous rake and more approachable in some way that Clarissa was having difficulty putting into words.
“I do wish the journey was not so far from London,” Clarissa’s mother said, her voice suddenly rather loud.
“It is quite a distance,” Lady Matilda said.
Clarissa narrowed her eyes and ate a small bite of salmon. She suspected that her mother was about to do something mischievous or deceitful, and she had not the faintest idea how to stop her. Her mother cast her a stern look, which only deepened Clarissa’s suspicions.
“Indeed, I do wonder if Clarissa and I might need to remain here a little longer. I am unsure if my back will survive the discomfort of travelling to Bath by stagecoach. It appears that I am not quite as resilient as I was in my youth.”
“Oh, that does sound unfortunate,” Lady Matilda said. “Why not travel with us?”
Clarissa drew in a sharp breath. Sothathad been her mother’s aim!
“I could not possibly impose on you and His Grace,” Clarissa’s mother said.
“It would hardly be an imposition,” His Grace said.
Lady Matilda nodded with more enthusiasm than was strictly proper. “Of course not! We have known each other for so long, after all. I would be a poor friend if I allowed you to travel in discomfort.”
“Well, if you insist,” Clarissa’s mother said.
Clarissa felt her face grow warm. Lady Bentley was really becoming too involved in all of this. His Grace surely suspected by now what Clarissa’s mother was doing. It would be impossible for him not to at least suspectsomethingwas awry.
“We do insist,” Lady Matilda said.
The dinner continued for a while longer after that. Clarissa tried not to show the turmoil bubbling over inside her. How could her mother behave in such a manner? Clarissa knew that she probably should have expected it.
After all, her mother had made it clear that she intended to find Clarissa a husband—preferably His Grace—but a small part of Clarissa had hoped that her mother would accept defeat or abandon the chase. It seemed as though Clarissa would not be so fortunate.
It was a relief when dinner ended, for it meant that Clarissa would soon be able to speak to her mother about her ridiculous actions over dinner. Clarissa was quite certain that her mother would not relent, but still, she felt as if she must saysomethingabout Lady Bentley’s absurd machinations.
As they left the parlour, a familiar figure appeared—Lord Creshire. Even though Clarissa was not especially invested in the activities and people of the ton as she ought to be, she knew very well of the Earl of Creshire. He was a very prominent figure, known for his generosity. “What a pleasant surprise to find friends so far from London!” he exclaimed jovially.
“Indeed,” Clarissa’s mother said.
“A pleasure,” Clarissa said.
Lord Creshire bowed and placed a quick kiss on Clarissa’s gloved hand. He smiled brightly at her, and his green eyes shined with genuine pleasure, as if seeing her was the most exciting part of his day. On another man, the gesture might have appeared insincere, but there was something about Lord Creshire’s expression that made it always impossible to doubt him.
