Page 12 of Snowbound with the Scoundrel
Rupert made a bleak sound.“I’ve a fair idea.It was two years ago, and I’d gone up to Boroughbridge to meet Miss Weatherby.I’d just arrived at the Crown Hotel after traveling all day, so I figured I’d go to bed early in hopes that I might look a little more the thing the following morning.I was sitting in the common room, waiting for my supper, when who should walk in but Miss Clarissa.”
Laurie tilted his head.“You met her, then?”
“I did not.She was there to collect her family’s post.I happened to be seated just behind her.She had her back to me, so I never saw her face, but I couldn’t help but overhear her conversation with the barmaid.”
Laurie was studying him, no doubt noticing that Rupert’s typical happy-go-lucky expression had taken a leave of absence.“What happened, Rupe?”he asked softly.
Rupert sighed.“The barmaid, Becky, asked when I was to arrive.And…”
“And?”Laurie asked gently.
What made it so particularly painful to recall was that he’d gone and got his hopes up.Lady Milthorpe had assured him that he and Clarissa would suit each other to perfection.
Rupert was not unaware of his own flaws.Indeed, it would’ve been hard to remain oblivious, as glaring as they were.That he’d made it through school was a mark of how much Eton and Oxford had wanted his school fees, because there wasn’t a drop of academic merit involved.
But according to Lady M., Clarissa Weatherby was every bit as clever as Rupert was duncical, which soundedperfect.He needed someone like her who could help him run Drayford House, the small estate left to him by his aunt, to say nothing of the portfolio of investments.He stood about as good a chance of managing those by himself as a rhinoceros did of learning to dance thepas de deux.Some men took umbrage at the notion that a woman might be more intelligent than him.Not old Rupert.He wanted the cleverest gel who would have him.
But then, Lady Milthorpe had gone and done it.It wasn’t just that Miss Clarissa would be good for Rupert.
According to the countess, he would be good for her, too.
“The world has not been overly kind to the Weatherby sisters,” Lady Milthorpe had explained.“And Clarissa in particular has a chip on her shoulder.She needs a kind man, a patient man, and someone who will appreciate her intellect, not take it as a threat.”He could still picture the way Lady M.had smiled as she patted his hand.“And that’s you, Rupert.”
He’d been sohopefulabout Clarissa Weatherby.He’d spent most of his life as the butt of everyone’s joke—poor old Rupert, dumb as a box of rocks.It had been nice to think, for once, that he had some positive personal qualities beyond his talents in the bedchamber and the usual stuff about being in possession of enough money to save a woman from destitution.
But Lady Milthorpe had been wrong.Miss Clarissa had not been enthusiastic about the match.
Quite the opposite, as she’d made inescapably clear.
He could still hear Clarissa’s crisp response to Becky’s question.“He’s due to arrive in three days.And he’s notmyMr.Dupree.”
He’d tried not to take that personally.After all, they still needed to meet and make sure they would suit one another and whatnot.
Behind him, Becky had laughed.“Oh, but he will be!And I’ll warrant you won’t have that sour look on your face after the wedding.”She’d dropped her voice low, but not so low that Rupert couldn’t hear.“I hear your future husband knowsjusthow to put a smile on a woman’s face.”
Good lord—how had those rumors reached this little village in Yorkshire?Normally, Rupert didn’t mind people alluding to his eagerness to please in the bedchamber overly much.It was nice for people to have something to say about him other than what an idiot he was.
But it was one thing for a pair of widows to whisper such abon motto each other behind their fans, or for Rupert’s friends to joke about it over drinks at their club.
He felt a lot less pleased to hear it being discussed at full volume in the middle of a busy inn, in front of his future bride and a considerable portion of her acquaintance.
Speaking of his future bride, Clarissa had summoned the wherewithal to answer.“He is not my future husband, not if I have any say in the matter.How I wish Lady Milthorpe had never involved me in this ridiculous scheme!”
Rupert’s heart had sunken down to about the level of his spleen.Not that he knew where his spleen was or what it did, but the point was, he was starting to feeldeuceddisappointed.
Becky’s tone turned somber.“You don’t mean that, Miss Clarissa.Why, he’s the son of an earl, and a right good match, from everything I hear.”
Thank you, Becky, Rupert had thought to himself.He could remember sitting there, shoulders stiff, holding his breath, hoping to God that Clarissa would say,You’re right.I’m just nervous about marrying a man I’ve never met.I should at least give him a chance.
Instead, she had said, “He’s supposed to be a blithering idiot, from everything I hear.What could Lady Milthorpe have been thinking?I would never consider such a man for my husband, not if he were the last man on earth!”
She took her leave shortly thereafter.He did turn his head as she swept out of the room, but the only glimpse he got was of the back of her bonnet.
Ah, well.Rupert should have known it was all too good to be true.
As disappointed as he’d been, he could never find it in himself to be mad at Clarissa Weatherby about it.
After all, who would want to marry a stupid fellow like him?
