Page 54 of Snowbound with the Scoundrel
Clarissa took Phyllis’s hand and pressed it.“It is kind of you to look out for me.But truly, it was nothing more than a few kisses.”
Strictly speaking, it was true.
There was no need to mention preciselywhereshe and Rupert had kissed each other.
Phyllis’s expression remained stony.“It takes far less than a few kisses to ruin a woman.”
Clarissa pressed her hand.“I know that, but I also know that, as my friend, you would never expose me to the world’s censure.”
Phyllis’s expression remained sulky, but she mumbled, “Of course, I wouldn’t.”
Eager to bring this conversation to an end, Clarissa looped her arm through Phyllis’s.“I appreciate your discretion and your advice.I will certainly keep it in mind.Now come,” she said, tugging Phyllis toward the door.“Let’s see what Lord and Lady Helmsley have laid out for breakfast.”
Inside the breakfast room, Phyllis clung to Clarissa’s side.But that was all right because Rupert had taken the seat next to their new primary suspect, Nicholas Higginbotham.He was attempting, not very successfully, by the look of things, to engage him in conversation.But if anyone could draw him out, it was Rupert.Clarissa caught his eye for a brief second and an understanding passed between them.Don’t worry, Rupert’s eyes said.I’ll handle it.Clarissa gave him a tiny nod.
Lord and Lady Helmsley were throwing the first ball of the house party that night, and the ladies were to spend the morning decorating the ballroom with festive greenery while the gentlemen went tromping around in the snow in search of the perfect Yule log.Clarissa, therefore, didn’t get to speak to Rupert until luncheon.
Sidling up to him at the buffet table, she murmured, “Did Mr.Higginbotham say anything of interest?”
“Nothing.Quite the taciturn fellow,” Rupert whispered.
“We’ll try again tonight,” Clarissa returned as Phyllis Cuthbert bore down on her, a disapproving scowl on her face as she saw Clarissa ignoring her advice and speaking to Rupert.
The ladies spent the afternoon drinking tea and embroidering, and then it was time to dress for the ball.
Having decided that red was Clarissa’s color, Lady Emily sent over a cherry-red ballgown for her to wear that evening.Clarissa wasn’t surprised at this point; she had quite given up on blending into the wallpaper.
But the strangest thing happened when she put the dress on.Until that point, she had recoiled slightly every time she looked in the mirror and saw herself clad in a cheerful shade of mint or apricot.But today, she recognized the woman in red staring back at her with a confident smile.Ten days of joining the party instead of skulking in the corner, of being treated as a respectable young lady instead of a despised wallflower, had transformed how she thought of herself.
She wondered if she would be able to go back to her brown gowns once the house party concluded.On the one hand, she needed them for her work for the Home Office, which she wanted to continue.
But she couldn’t help but feel that those dresses belonged to someone else, a version of herself that no longer existed.
She encountered Rupert on the landing as she headed downstairs.He bowed cordially and offered her his arm.
Leaning in, Clarissa whispered, “Were you able to speak with Mr.Higginbotham again?”
“I made a go of it but didn’t make any progress.I think you should give it a try to see if you have better luck.”
“I doubt that I would,” Clarissa murmured.
“I think you might.After all, what man can resist a beautiful woman?”
They had reached the ballroom’s entrance.Clarissa stopped short just shy of the double doors.She peered up at Rupert but couldn’t detect anything but sincerity in his expression.
“You really think I’m beautiful.”It was a statement, not a question.Clarissa could hear a trace of surprise in her voice as she said it.
“Of course I do.”Rupert’s voice was husky, and his eyes… Clarissa felt a sudden conviction that if she lived to be a thousand years old, she would never forget the way Rupert was looking at her in the shadowy entryway.
Inside the ballroom, the musicians began the opening bars of a waltz.There was something vulnerable in Rupert’s eyes as he asked, “Would you do me the very great honor of granting me this dance?”
“I would,” Clarissa whispered.
Rupert smiled, and he led her inside.
The cream-and-gold ballroom was bright with candlelight from a dozen chandeliers.The room smelled of the fresh-cut fir boughs that adorned each arched window.Clarissa saw it all in a haze because she could not seem to tear her eyes from Rupert’s face.
He swept her into the waltz.Clarissa had always been an indifferent dancer, preferring to spend her spare minutes with her nose in a book.Rupert, on the other hand, danced elegantly, with a firm, competent lead that made her ten times better than she would otherwise have been.This felt like an apt metaphor.Did this man not bring out all her better qualities?In Rupert’s company, it was so easy to be patient, kind, and quietly capable, rather than condescending.Probably because these were all things he believed her to be.With Rupert, she had nothing to prove, and the rough edges she had worn like armor these past two years melted away.
