A Little Bit Sinful

chapter Eleven


On very little sleep Clarissa had risen the following morning for a scheduled shopping excursion with Ella. Her brief stop in the dining room to pilfer a piece of something for breakfast had been met with Marcus and Vivian sitting entirely too close to one another for the first meal of the day. They’d exchanged pleasantries, but Clarissa hadn’t stayed around for any lengthy conversation.

Once in the carriage with Ella and Lady Weaver, they both began talking so quickly Clarissa wasn’t certain who to listen to.

“Start over,” Clarissa told them.

“Mother, allow me,” Ella said. Her mother nodded. “I cannot believe how much you missed. This will teach you to leave a ball that early. Lord Rutherford announced his engagement to an heiress. An American heiress.”

“Good heavens, wasn’t he already betrothed?” Clarissa asked. “To Jane Pendergast. I thought they’d made a love match.”

Ella nodded. “Yes, I believe they were in love. Evidently, he and this American girl got themselves locked in a room at some soiree and the girl is obviously ruined though even she said that Lord Rutherford never touched her. Still he’s doing the honorable thing by marrying her. I’m told poor Jane is simply devastated.”

“He is a man of good breeding, doing the right thing by the American girl,” Clarissa said.

Lady Weaver nodded. “True, but I don’t believe the Americans put much stock in their reputations else the girl would not have been out without a chaperone. Let this be a lesson to you girls.”

“Yes, mother,” Ella said. She gave Clarissa a sly smile.

Clarissa smiled in return, but she couldn’t help wondering what would happen to Jane Pendergast. Would another man step forward to marry her now that she’d had her engagement dissolved? Yes, it was a good thing that men of title did the honorable thing, but it still seemed a little sad considering Lord Rutherford and Jane had seemed quite enamored of one another.

Right now Clarissa knew if she allowed her heart to choose, she’d be back at Justin’s house tonight. There was no denying that she had feelings for him and that he clearly desired her. But she couldn’t afford to fall into another scandal with him. There were those that wouldn’t have survived the rumors that had surged after Clarissa had visited Justin at his gaming hell. Thankfully, Vivian had smoothed things over and Clarissa’s reputation had remained unscathed. It was one thing to dally with a gentleman knowing he would be honor-bound to marry you, but to engage in an affair with a man who had no said obligation was downright foolish.

“Sounds like a very exciting evening,” Clarissa said. She’d almost asked Justin Rodale to make love to her so anything Ella or her mother had to tell her seemed to pale in comparison.

Ella shook her head. “An understatement, and I still can’t believe you missed it. Where were you?”

“I went home early with a headache.”

Ella looked at her with a slight frown as if she did not believe what Clarissa said. But she would not inquire further in front of her mother. They arrived on Bond Street and began their shopping. It didn’t take too long for Clarissa to hear several different versions of the story from the night before. Everyone was talking about it.

Ella was able to sneak over to Clarissa while her mother talked to the milliner about a new hat. “Where were you?” Then she paused and her mouth opened wide. “Were you out kissing George? Oh, or Mr. Rodale?”

“I did kiss George, though not last night,” Clarissa said quietly. She hadn’t yet told her friend the details of her kiss with George because so much had happened. And she still didn’t understand her own reaction to said kiss.

“And?”

She had thought she loved George, once upon a time. Well, she was still fond of him, she knew that much. Though now when she thought of love, George was not the first name that came to mind. Everything had seemed so concrete in her mind a few short weeks ago. Now it was all muddled. But what to tell Ella? Clarissa wasn’t generally in the habit of lying to her friend.

“Your silence tells me everything,” Ella said. “Your heart knows what it wants, Clarissa. There is no reason to deny it.”

“I’m not so certain it’s that simple. What if what my heart wants, my heart can’t have?” Then she shook her head. “There’s no reason to answer that.” Regardless of the pull she felt to Justin, they could never be. Theirs was not the kind of love match she’d read about in Jane Austen novels. Clarissa was no Elizabeth Bennet, and Justin was certainly no Mr. Darcy. If anything he was more like Mr. Wickham.

No, no he was far more honorable than that.

Yet she felt certain that if she pursued Justin, she would end up ruined and heartbroken. Whereas George would do the right thing, he would have to, he was the heir to a viscount. People knew he’d courted her. Not only that, but it had become quite clear she could no longer trust herself with Justin. If he asked her those questions again, she might say yes. Not that he’d asked for anything permanent. No, she had yet to be able to evoke that manner of response from any man. Perhaps she merely hadn’t done it the right way.

It was time for her to take action. If she was to marry George, she needed to give him that extra push to make the commitment. Tonight’s ball would be the perfect time. People would still be reeling about recent events. It would be all anyone was talking about. Until tonight.

Until Clarissa Kincaid compromised herself.

…

Everything was planned to perfection, and even though the entire scenario made Clarissa feel slightly nauseated, she felt certain it would all work. By the end of the night she should very well be engaged. She scanned the ballroom looking for her future intended. He stood across the room next to Ella’s brother and two other gentlemen. They had glasses in their hands and held them up every now and again in an almost salute to one another. Men were strange creatures.

“Are you quite certain you want to go through with this?” Ella whispered next to her.

“Yes, it is the only way,” Clarissa said.

Ella shook her head vehemently. “Not true.”

“What are my other options?”

“You could not marry George.”

“He is the man I’m supposed to marry. We’re a perfect match.” Or at least they were supposed to be the perfect match. She’d spent so much time believing that, could she question it now? Especially in light of what she’d seen of George. Still, Clarissa intended to follow Rebecca’s recommendation. She knew from experience that her own personal instincts left much to be desired. So despite her doubts, Clarissa intended to adhere to her late sister-in-law’s suggestion.

If she were to rely on her own choice, she’d end up married to a gaming hell owner, not at all a suitable choice for a lady. Besides, she’d been pursuing George her entire adult life—she couldn’t turn back now. If she walked away from George, then who was she? What did she know of herself if she didn’t know that she was meant to be his wife? And who would she marry? There weren’t any other men lining up to pursue her. She wasn’t eccentric enough to be a successful spinster.

Ella shook her head, her perfectly coifed curls bounced with her movement. “I don’t think so. I don’t believe you suit at all. You’re vibrant and funny and I hate to see you waste your life married to him. I don’t trust him.”

“You’re only saying that because you’ve known him forever. Since you were a girl. You don’t know him the way I do.” But even as she said the words, they felt false to her.

“Well, you’ll certainly be able to say that after tonight.” Ella eyed her. “I wish you would reconsider, but I know you and once you have your mind set, nothing will change it. I will help, as I promised I would, but know that I’m not happy about it.”

Clarissa swallowed hard and nodded. “Duly noted. I promise to do the same someday when you set your cap for some gentleman I don’t approve of.”

“How do you know that will happen?”

“I know you and no doubt you’ll fall for some poet who has no income and doesn’t like to wear undergarments.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “My goodness but you’ve become rather worldly.”

Clarissa turned her attention back to George. When he came to retrieve her for his dance, Ella was supposed to send him to meet her elsewhere. The room she found was perfect and no one would be the wiser. It wouldn’t even take a kiss or a touch. Once they were found alone together, she’d be compromised. George would be urged to marry her. He’d come to his senses and propose.

Now was the time. She looked at her friend. “Wish me luck,” she said.

“Most definitely.” Ella grabbed both of Clarissa’s hands and looked her straight in the eye. “I’m not leaving you in there for very long. I don’t want him to ravish you. Oh, Clarissa, do be careful.”

Clarissa squeezed her friend’s hands and nodded. She made her way to the room where she was to meet George. It was a billiards room, but one that was apparently no longer in use. Lord Wooten had recently purchased all new billiard tables and had moved them into a larger room upstairs, leaving this smaller room completely unused.

There were currently three billiard tables in the room and it looked as if they’d also brought in some unused chairs stacked against the far wall. There was a door at the other end of the room that she assumed led into a closet. There were no windows and no one had passed through the corridor outside while she had stood there earlier in the evening.

It was perfect. She would grab his attention by letting him know that she knew of his favorite game. Then when Ella found them alone, he would do the honorable thing and marry her.

George was a good man.

She paused, considering what she was about to do. Never did she think she’d be one of those women who trapped a man into marriage, but she needed to do this before she did something with Justin Rodale she couldn’t undo. Once she was officially betrothed to George, then she and Justin could simply be friends.

She had been so close to asking him to make love to her the other night. She’d so wanted it, with him, but that was the terrifying part. She was supposed to be with George. Not Justin Rodale. Rebecca had never cared for Justin; she’d always said he was too surly. Of course that wasn’t the way he was now, and Clarissa couldn’t help but wonder what her dear sister-in-law would think of Justin the man. She didn’t have long to consider it though as the door creaked open.

“Clarissa, are you in here?” George asked. He poked his head in and saw her. “What are you doing in here?”

“I thought you might enjoy seeing what I’d found in this room.” She motioned to the tables behind her. “I’m told they’re quite old and worth something to collectors.”

He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He paused. “No chaperone?”

“No, it’s just me. But no one uses the room, so we’re safe.”

He moved forward to the table and stopped at one in particular. “Mahogany wood, good detailing.” He moved around each side. “All eight legs seem sturdy and the pockets are in excellent condition. Very interesting. I was not aware Lord Wooten was an avid billiards player.”

“Oh, I hear he’s terrible, but he doesn’t know that,” she said.

George laughed. He picked up one of the cues. “The leather tips seem to be original. Clearly Lord Wooten doesn’t actually play very much.” He ran his hand against the wood of the table, then the top. “Why the sudden interest in billiards?”

“I am interested in you and therefore interested in what you like. You do favor this game?”

“Yes, I do.” He narrowed his eyes at her playfully. “Have you been spying on me?”

Well, she had, but not that particular past time. “A woman never shares her secrets.”

“It’s hard to believe that you would have secrets, Clarissa,” George said. “You’re a lady of upmost values.”

“Every lady has secrets. Don’t let any of them tell you any differently.” She shrugged. “I suppose it depends on what manner of secrets, though.” They could only talk for so long.

“I must admit I’m wondering if Lord Wooten would be eager to sell them to me,” he said.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that he shouldn’t be making large purchases if he owed someone else a large sum of money. But she was still unsure if that had been a complete lie or if he did in fact owe someone money.

“Did you want to go and finish our dance?” he asked.

“No.” She walked over to him and looked up at him. “I was thinking we could do something else.”

“Do you want me to teach you to play?” He gave her a wicked grin and a shiver slid over her body. Not the delicious sort, but the sort that made her feel uneasy, nervous.

He took her by the hand. “Come here, let me show you something.”

She took a deep breath and allowed him to pull her near. If she were going to be compromised, she supposed it didn’t matter if she was found simply in a room alone with him or in an embrace. He pressed his mouth to her in a surprising kiss. He’d pinned her body between his and the billiard table.

He slid his knee between her legs. “You are a seductress, Clarissa Kincaid. I would never have known. It’s a nice surprise though.” Then he kissed her again.

She wanted this, she reminded herself. She wanted to be George’s wife, was destined to be so.

His mouth left hers, but trailed down her throat. His warm mouth did little to excite her. “Tell me you want me, tell me you want me to touch you,” he said roughly.

She nodded. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “I want you to kiss me,” she said.

“Clarissa Kincaid,” the female voice sounded from the door. But it was not Ella’s voice. They had been caught, but not at all by a friendly face. Clarissa’s heart fell into her shoes. She held her breath as she turned slowly to see who it was. It was Lady Wooten. But George would step forward and say something to save her, to salvage her name. He’d claim they were betrothed. The room was deafeningly quiet. Clarissa turned back around to find George had slipped out behind her through the other door.

Clarissa opened her mouth, but found she had no words.

“What are you doing in here, young lady, of all the scandalous wanton behavior.” Lady Wooten shook her head disapprovingly. “I am just, I mean I never would have expected it from you.” The woman’s eyes narrowed in on her. “Let us go and find your brother. Right now. Who was that man with you, Clarissa?”

Clarissa took one last look at the door behind her. George had abandoned her. The weight of her faulty decision crashed down upon her and she found it difficult to breath.

“Well, you can tell your brother. I’m certain he’ll make the man do the right thing. You should be quite thankful that I came in when I did. Whoever that man was that was in here with you would most certainly have taken advantage of you and by the way he quickly exited, he wouldn’t have seen to it to marry you.” She pat Clarissa’s hand. “Perhaps your brother can take care of the situation for you, though. Brothers can be quite persuasive when it comes to the honor of their younger sister’s.”

She continued to chatter on while she led Clarissa back into the crowded ballroom. All Clarissa could do was focus on breathing. In and out. In and out. Everything seemed to be moving slower than usual. The people they walked by, their words blurred, the music sounded broken apart, and there was a strange wooshing that pulsed inside her head. She needed to sit down.

Whether he intended to or not, George had just compromised her. And then he’d left. If he’d cared for her at all, he would have come forward then. If he had had any intention of ever marrying her, this should have forced his hand. And yet, he had run. She had been utterly wrong about the nature of his character. Worse still, Rebecca had been wrong. If she couldn’t trust in Rebecca’s guidance, what could she trust in?

“My Lord, if I could have a moment of your time,” the woman said.

Marcus turned to face her and he caught one sight of Clarissa and brought his arm around her. “What happened?” he asked her.

But she didn’t get a chance to answer as Lady Wooten was already talking. “I walked right in on them. Not sure who the man was, though, he scurried out as soon as he could. I do believe her virtue is in tact, though it might not have been had I not entered the room when I did. If I were you I would find out who he was and demand he make right of this.”

“Thank you for your help,” Vivian said. “Clarissa, let’s get you home.”

Well, she had ruined her reputation, but she wasn’t engaged. In fact, she was utterly ruined and more than likely Marcus would send her to the country to save the family any more embarrassment. Two scandals in one year was more than any family could handle.