Page 28 of A Hero's Guide to Love
She yanked the shirt from his hand and flung it acrossthe room. “Is your blasted career all you care about? Fighting and killing? Does that mean more to you than I do?”
Tears glittered on her eyelashes, but her slight figure radiated fury. He glared back at her, stung by the accusation.
“I’m a soldier, Clarissa. It’s who I am. What else should I be? Should I sit at home, the feckless younger son waiting for the crumbs to fall from his father’s table? That’s no kind of life for a man. This is what I have chosen to do, and I do it well.”
When she shook her head, making a disparaging sound, Christian’s anger spiked. “And if you think I enjoy fighting and killing, you can go to the devil,” he flung at her. “I do what I must to protect my country and my king. I don’t like killing, but I’ll be damned if I’ll apologize to you for it.”
He stalked across the room, grabbed his shirt, and pulled it over his head. “And by the way,” he added, “your beloved husband obviously thought so, too, or he wouldn’t have gone off to Spain and left you.”
Her anguished gasp brought him up short. He briefly closed his eyes, suddenly wishing a bolt of lightning would strike him dead. “Clarissa,” he sighed.
“No, Christian. Not another word,” she choked out, yanking on her gown. “If you feel any affection for me whatsoever, you’ll pretend none of this ever happened.”
Before he could say another word, she scooped up the rest of her clothes and fled.
An imperious knock sounded on the front door of the Middleton town house, jolting Clarissa from her gloomy reverie. Whoever it was, she didn’t want to see anyone. Since she fled Rosedell Manor four days ago—right after that disastrous, earth-shattering encounter with Christian—she had imprisoned herself inside the house. And if not for Colonel Middleton’s poor health, she would have already packed uptheir household and decamped to the security of their Devon estate.
She dropped her needlework in her basket and went to look out the window. A highly polished town coach stood before the front stoop. One of the Montegue carriages, which meant Lillian had come to try to see her. Again.
Clarissa rubbed her temples, trying to ease the headache that had taken up permanent residence in her skull. She hated having to avoid Lillian, but she couldn’t face her right now. Not until Christian sailed away to the Peninsula and out of her life for good. Then she would talk to her friend and beg her forgiveness for using her brother in so cavalier a fashion.
Her eyes stung as she imagined life without Christian. Every day she struggled to deny the truth. And every night, alone in her bed, she was forced to admit it. She loved him. How could she not? Even as a boy he had touched her heart, with his intelligence and courage, his kindness, and his sheer joy in life. And now he was a man. Handsome and powerful, whose caresses made her body flare with a passion unlike any she had ever known.
But she had used him and asked him to betray his honor for her sake. Jeremy would have been horrified by her heartless scheme. She understood that now, after four days of thinking of little else. That realization was almost worse than anything.
At the sound of a hasty tread on the staircase, she left the window. A moment later the door to the drawing room flew open and Lillian rushed into the room, as grim as a hanging judge.
Groaning inwardly, Clarissa reached deep for a smile.
“Lillian, how nice to see you. I’m sorry I haven’t been well enough—”
“Stow it, Clarissa,” Lillian snapped. “No more hidingaway. We’re going to talk right now about what happened between you and Christian. And what to do about it.”
Clarissa sank into a chair, propping her aching forehead on her palm.
“There’s nothingtodo. He hates me.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Not that I blame him.”
Lillian rolled her eyes. “You can be such a goosecap. He doesn’t hate you. He’s been madly in love with you for years.”
Clarissa gaped at her friend. “You knew?”
Lillian scoffed. “Of course. So did Father and Mother.”
Clarissa groaned and dropped her head back in her hands, unable to conjure an answer to that humiliating revelation.
“Oh, for God’s sake! Look at me,” Lillian exclaimed.
Cautiously, Clarissa raised her head.
Lillian seemed torn between vexation and sympathy. “Did you really think we wouldn’t approve of a match between you and Christian? We’d be thrilled. For both of you.”
Clarissa gasped. “Are you insane? I’m five years older than he is. And he’s a soldier. I could never marry another soldier.”
“You just might get your wish,” Lillian retorted. “At this very moment, Christian is destroying his career—for your sake.”
If she hadn’t already been sitting, Clarissa would likely have fallen down. “What are you talking about?”
“Christian is going on a crusade to clear Jeremy’s name. After you bolted from Rosedell Manor, he returned to town immediately and began digging around for information.”
