Page 20 of A Hero's Guide to Love
“Believe me. You’re better off not knowing.”
She grabbed his arm, digging her nails into his sleeve. “Tell me right now, Christian, or I’ll go to the Horse Guards and find out for myself.”
He looked mulish, but she refused to back down and glared at him.
“Very well,” he finally said. “I’m almost certain it’s Blundell. I suspected him from the moment I heard the rumors. A few other things I managed to find out confirmedmy suspicions. He was one of Jeremy’s superior officers at Badajoz. Given what happened the other night, the timing makes perfect sense.”
Clarissa slumped against Lillian as the ugliness of it all seeped into her bones. Christian had to be right—it was too much of a coincidence. Blundell had threatened to punish her, and what could be more effective than tarnishing her husband’s name? Especially since Blundell had always hated Jeremy for winning her hand.
But what should they do about it? Whatcouldthey do about it?
Lillian hugged her but directed a quizzical glance at her brother. “What happened the other night?”
He gave an impatient shake of the head. “It’s not important. What is important is how we’re going to handle this.”
Clarissa sat up, forcing back the leaden weight of despair that sought to overwhelm her. She had to fight back. Jeremy had sacrificed his life for his king, and she could not allow his honor to be trampled into the dust by a pig like Blundell.
“Did you reveal your suspicions to Lieutenant-Colonel Harcourt?” she asked.
Christian’s mouth flattened into a disapproving line. “I did. And received a sharp reprimand in return. He told me in no uncertain terms to leave Blundell’s name out of it. He ordered me, in fact, to leave the whole thing alone.”
“How can he expect that of you?” she cried. “Didn’t your father say something? Harcourt would have to listen to him, wouldn’t he?”
“My father is only a baronet, Clarissa,” he replied in a dry tone. “Not nearly as influential as Blundell’s father, who, as you know, is both a marquess and a member of government. Harcourt made it clear he would take it up with my commanding officer if I didn’t leave the matter alone.”
Clarissa balled her fists into his shoulders and pushed. “Let me up,” she snapped.
That muscle in his jaw ticked again, but he stood and drew her to her feet. She jerked away and began pacing the room.
After several rapid turns, she felt able to speak again without shrieking. She came to a halt in front of Christian, challenging his steady gaze. “Could you talk to other soldiers you know … officers who were at Badajoz? Get them to tell the truth?”
He grimaced. “I’d like nothing better, Clarissa. But I can’t—not when Harcourt gave me specific orders. The lieutenant-colonel truly believes it’s best for everyone to let the matter die down. He reasons that if the brass ignores it, everyone else will, too.”
“That’s nonsense,” she retorted. “The man obviously won’t risk angering Blundell’s father.”
He shrugged, not bothering to deny her accusation.
“Can’t you do anything?” she whispered. “Even for me?”
His face turned to stone, but his eyes flashed with the evidence of a bitter internal struggle. Guilt speared through her for trying to manipulate him, but she had to, for Jeremy’s sake.
“I would if I could. You know that. But I can’t,” he replied in a husky voice. “Not in the face of a direct order.”
Lillian joined them. “Dearest, there’s nothing Christian can do. He can’t possibly disobey such an order, especially now that Wellington has his eye on him.”
Clarissa swallowed around the constriction in her throat. “Can’t anyone go talk to Blundell, at least? Tell him to stop spreading these horrible lies?”
Christian blew out a frustrated breath. “I intended to do just that, but Harcourt warned me away from him. And he did it in front of my father, making it quite clear that a duel to settle the matter was also not an option. Father agreed. Strongly, I might add.”
Clarissa stared at him, dumbfounded and despairing. Shefelt utterly boxed in, and unable to do anything to protect the reputation of the best man she had ever known. Grief seared her soul, almost as intense as it was on the day she’d learned of her husband’s death.
“So, there’s nothing we can do,” she said in a dull voice. “Nothing but listen and watch as Jeremy’s reputation is trampled on in every drawing room in Mayfair.”
Christian broke away and strode to the window. He stood with his back to them, quiet and still, but a furious tension vibrated in the atmosphere around him. Clarissa sensed his frustration, his need to take action, but too many forces were lined up against them. Even though grief held her immobile, some part of her yearned to comfort him.
“We’ve been discussing that,” said Lillian, breaking into Clarissa’s gloomy thoughts. “Father thinks it best that you leave town for at least a few days. He and Mother will try to refute the charges—quietly and in private conversations. But your presence will give the gossips more fodder. He suggested you and I spend a week or two at our estate in Kent. We could leave today and arrive by nightfall.”
She cast a speculative glance at her brother’s back, then gave Clarissa a tentative smile. “Christian will come, too. Won’t that be nice?”
