Page 88 of The Study of Seduction
“Yes.”With a side of carnal relations, if you don’t mind.Damn. How would he ever make it through tonight?
She poured two glasses. “You don’t mind that Yvette and Jeremy left so soon, do you?”
“No.” He watched as she came toward him. “Why? Doyou?”
“Certainly not. Though I did enjoy my chat with Yvette.”
That arrested his attention. As she handed him his glass, he said, “And . . . er . . . what did you two discuss?”
Staring down into her glass, she said, “I told her all about Durand and why we had to marry. She thinks he’s mad.”
“He is. Though it’s a crafty sort of mad.”
She nodded. “Yvette agreed to write to me about whatever gossip she heard of him.”
“That’s good.” Edwin downed his wine, then went to fetch himself another. It was the only way he was going to get through the next few hours with her looking like that.
Clarissa didn’t seem to notice. “I didn’t mention the blackmail aspect to her. I wasn’t sure if you’d want her to know of it. Was that right?”
He forced himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. “Yes. I’d rather not worry her over it until it becomes necessary.”
“It did occur to me, though, that . . . well . . .” She toyed with her glass. “I wondered if perhaps the blackmail had something to do with what you mentioned this afternoon. About your mother. And her assault.”
He froze in the midst of pouring himself more wine. God, he hadn’t even considered that she might think that. “No. Not at all. Something else entirely.” Down went his second glass of Madeira.
When he said nothing more, she asked, “Will you tell me about it?”
Damn. The last thing he wanted to explain right now was his father’s spying. “The blackmail, you mean?”
“No. Your mother’s assault.”
That threw him off guard. He faced her, eyes narrowing. “Why?”
She swallowed. “Because . . . well . . . it seems to have affected you profoundly, and I should like to know what happened.”
It occurred to him that there might be deeper reasons for her request. What had Yvette said?Treat her with kid gloves.
Perhaps this was the way to do it. Show her his darkest secrets, so she might show him hers. He stepped nearer. “If I do, will you tell me why you shy from me?”
She blinked, then bobbed her head.
“Very well.” He gestured to the chair in front of the desk. “But you’d better sit down. It’s not a pretty story.”
At those words, Clarissa felt a sudden queasiness in her stomach. But this was what she’d wanted, to know what had happened to his mother and how it might bear upon his feelings toward what had happened to her. Which she’d now promised to tell him, and wasn’t at all sure she should.
But this couldn’t go on. She might as well get it over with.
Edwin went to close the door to the study, probably so the servants wouldn’t hear, and then to pour himself a third glass of Madeira. Clarissa frowned. She’d never seen him take more than one before, and it worried her. At least he only sipped this one, as if buying time.
When he spoke again, his voice was carefully measured. “It happened when I was eight and Samuel six. Father had just left to go to town one afternoon, so we were playing in the coat closet downstairs, having escaped our napping nurse. Father’s oldest friend came to call, and we watched from our hiding place as Mother invited him to visit with her in the drawing room while he waited for Father to return.”
His back stiffened. “We didn’t know the man very well—he’d just returned from a long trip to America. But Mother knew him from before she and Father married, and they seemed cordial.” He sipped some Madeira. “Anyway, Samuel and I got into a silly argument about something, and since we knew Mother was in the drawing room, we ran in there to have her settle it.”
A shuddering breath escaped him. “It took a moment for us to register what we were seeing. At first, it looked like the man and Mother were playing some game on the settee, tussling like Samuel and I were wont to do.” His voice grew choked. “Butthen I realized that the man’s mouth was smothering Mother’s, and he was holding her down while he dragged up her skirts. She beat on his back, but though she wasn’t exactly a small woman, she couldn’t get him off her.”
Clarissa knew firsthand what that was like, having a man who was stronger and fiercer on top of her and not being able to get free. Just hearing Edwin’s account made her hands clammy and her mouth dry.
He cleared his throat. “Samuel just stood there, unable to comprehend what was going on, but I wasn’t about to let Father’s ‘friend’ hurt her, so I cried out for him to stop.”
