Page 99 of The Study of Seduction
“What good would it do Count Durand to cozy up to me now, anyway? I’m married.” She smiled softly at him. “Happily, it seems.”
That finally lightened his mood. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it?”
“You see? I never thought that could happen, and now it has. So I have complete confidence that your bluff was successful and Count Durand has been routed at last.”
He smiled. “You, sweetheart, are the eternal optimist. Even after all your troubles, you try to put a good face on things. It’s one of many things I like about you.”
Her good mood evaporated.Like. Notlove.
She shouldn’t care that he’d never professed to love her, since she’d never professed to lovehim.But she did care. Which she didn’t want to examine too closely. “I like that my eternal optimism doesn’t drive you mad,” she said lightly.
“It does, but it’s a pleasant sort of madness.” He glanced out the window. “We’re nearly to Vauxhall, and I haven’t yet given you your present.”
“You got me another present?”
“Something very mundane.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a necklace with a silver leaf pendant with what looked like two jeweled raindrops on it. “For my whimsical wife.”
“That isn’t mundane at all. It’s quite beautiful.” Though she was rather surprised it wasn’t another automaton.
When she reached for it, he stopped her. “It has a secret.” He pressed one of the “raindrops” and the leaf pendant fell from the chain into his hands. He pressed the other and a wicked-looking blade shot out of the leaf sheath. “It’s to keep you safe if I’m not around.”
“Oh my.” She took it from him and examined it. “Show me how it works again?”
It took only a few moments of demonstration for her to master opening it and also restoring it to the sheath and the chain.
Once she had it back in its original form, he closed her fingers around it. “Wear it or put it wherever you won’t lose it. And I’ll be much less worried about you.”
A lump caught in her throat. “Thank you, Ishallwear it.” Staring into his eyes, she hung it about her neck. “Close to my heart.”
He gazed into her face with such intensity that it started her pulse thundering. Then the carriage drew to a halt and the door swung open.
“It’s about time you got here!” cried her mother, leaning heavily on her cane. “Everyone is waiting for you.”
They stepped out to loud applause. Clarissa scanned the crowd, but saw no signs of Durand, thank God.
It was a good thing, because she needed all her strength for enduring the results of Mama’s extravagance. The fete began with a rousing orchestral piece and got more dramatic from there—with acrobats, dancing, massive bowls of negus, and enormous platters of suckling pig and roast game cock.
It went on for hours, ending with a pyrotechnical display that nearly rivaled those done for the king’s birthday.
Mama would either become a laughingstock in society because of it, or everyone would dismiss her eccentricities as they always did because she had such an amiable nature.
Through it all, Edwin miraculously maintained his composure. Clarissa wasn’t sure if that was to please her, or because he spent the entire affair watching the crowd for Count Durand. So she was rather relieved when one of his club members engaged him in a discussion of how the pyrotechnics had been done, and she didn’t have to worry about him so much.
Mama, however, was another matter. Leaning on a servant’s arm, she came up to where Clarissa was standing. “There you are. We have a problem.”
Those words had already been spoken half a dozen times this evening, and it always fell to Clarissa to solve those problems because Mama had such difficulty getting around.
“What is it this time?” She was tired and ready to leave.
“Those foreign pyrotechnical fellows are complaining about something in Italian. Ithinkit has to do with what I paid them, but I’m not sure.”
Mama gestured toward where the men were packing up their equipment behind the rows of boxes. Clarissa could just see them through the passage between the two closest sets of boxes overlooking the orchestra stage.
“My Italian isn’t nearly as good as yours, so could you take care of it?” Mama laid the back of her hand dramatically on her forehead. “I swear, if I have to deal with one more matter or walk one more step, I shall collapse right here.”
Clarissa stifled her irritation. “I’ll handle it, Mama.” Given how bad her mother’s Italian really was, the men could be saying something as inconsequential as “We need a glass of water.”
She strode off toward the Italians, but as she passed between the two sets of boxes, a man stepped into her path. “I need to talk to you.”
