Page 99 of The Heiress's Daughter
“No, me. I worried for ages about what I should have done for my mother.”
“You were eight. And I presume there were physicians where you lived.”
“I don’t mean medically. She had the best of medical care. I mean to make her love me.” He frowned and she added, “She cared for me, of course, but I always knew I was a disappointment to her, and to my father.”
“Good God, why?”
She shrugged. “Papa wanted a boy, and Mama wanted Papa to love her and she knew she’d disappointed him by having a useless girl.” Especially one who wasn’t even pretty.
“They were blind to the treasure they had then,” he said softly, and squeezed her hand again. His hands were bare, and the warmth of his skin was comforting.
Touched by the gentle compliment—she’d let the conversation get so melancholy—she forced herself to say brightly, “Oh, you mustn’t feel sorry for me. I had a very happy childhood once Izzy came to live with me. Andunconditional sisterly love is very precious and makes up for all kinds of slights and unkindnesses.” She ached for unconditional husbandly love, too, but she couldn’t tell him that. You couldn’t ask for love: it had to be given, freely.
There was a cheer from the cricket pitch. A batsman had been caught out, and it startled Clarissa and Race back to the here and now.
She smiled a little self-consciously. “Dear me, we have gone down a melancholy path, haven’t we? And it’s probably time I went home. But I think we’ve had some important conversations, don’t you?”
He flicked the reins and the curricle moved on. “We’ve come to a deeper understanding, that’s true,” he said, maneuvering the carriage around a stationary wagon. “So, have all these grim revelations caused you to want to break the betrothal or not?” He turned and gave her an intense, searching look. “Are you still unsure about marrying me, Clarissa?”
Chapter Fifteen
Clarissa took a deep breath. They’d talked of many things, but she hadn’t yet asked him the one thing that mattered most of all.
He gave her a swift sideways glance. “More questions? Should we return to the privacy of the park?”
“No, this shouldn’t take long.” She cleared her throat nervously. It was the main question. “You’ve explained that your reputation as a rake is…exaggerated. I accept that. I just need to know…” She cleared her throat again. “I need to know whether you think you could be faithful to only me. If we did marry, that is.”
He transferred his reins to his other hand and took her hand in his. “I don’t break my promises, and I would never break my marriage vows.” He glanced at her again, raised her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly. “Don’t you understand yet that I truly care for you? Because I do, you know. You are the only woman I have ever wanted to marry, and if I were fortunate enough to have you for my wife, I wouldneverjeopardize your trust.”
There was no teasing note in his voice, no lighthearted tone that indicated he was merely doing the polite thing. Or flirting.
Oh, how she wanted to believe him. The traffic thickened, and he was silent, concentrating on steering his carriage and pair through the chaos.
Clarissa made up her mind. She would probably always have doubts, but if she didn’t marry him she would always regret it. Even if she ended up regretting it. She gave a choked laugh at the ridiculous illogic of her thoughts.
If she married him, he would either be faithful, or he wouldn’t. Only time would tell, and she didn’t intend to live waiting for the axe to fall. Marriage was inevitably a risk, and if she was going to risk her heart on a tall, lanky, wildly attractive charmer, she had to banish any doubts and do it wholly and completely.
He was nothing like her father. He was gentle and kind and…
And she loved him. She would give herself to him completely.
She opened her mouth to tell him she would marry him, but before she could say a word, he said, “You don’t have to make up your mind now. I don’t mean to press you for an answer. Marriage is probably the most important decision you can make in your life, so take your time, and when you do decide, you need to be sure in your own mind that your decision’s the right one.”
If she’d needed any further encouragement to agree to marry him, that understanding and patience would be it. She opened her mouth to speak again, and he added, “In any case I’ll be out of town for the next week or so. Some matters on my estate needing attention. I’ll call on you when I return, see if you’ve made up your mind. Would that be acceptable?”
He glanced at her and she nodded. It wasn’t so much that she was relieved at the reprieve, but they were drivingthrough an open market at the moment, and though she’d finally found the courage to tell him, she’d rather not speak the words she’d had locked in her heart for so long surrounded by cabbages and costermongers, beggars, buskers and squabbling stray dogs.
It was hardly the location for a romantic declaration of love and trust.
“Am I interrupting?” Zoë hovered in the doorway of Clarissa’s stillroom. It was just a spare scullery that Lady Scattergood had given over to Clarissa to use for the making of her creams and fragrant waters. Clarissa loved it: her own little kingdom.
Clarissa turned, wiping her hands on a towel. “No, not at all. I’ve just finished mixing this cream, and it needs to set. What is it you wanted?”
Zoë sniffed. “Smells gorgeous. Rose, is it? And something else?”
“Yes, my favorite. And that’s lavender water steeping with some herbs I’m experimenting with. Now what did you want?”
“Could I talk to you, please?”
