A Little Bit Sinful

chapter Twelve


Justin had seen everything from across the room. His companion rattled on about wagering odds of hazard, but he was not paying him any attention. Instead he’d seen the hostess lead Clarissa across the ballroom and straight to Marcus and Vivian. They had, in turn, escorted her immediately out of the building. Something terrible had happened.

And then Justin saw George Wilbanks step back into the room and glance around. He looked far too suspicious. Justin knew that Clarissa was not thinking correctly and hell if he hadn’t scared her last night. There was no telling what Clarissa would attempt to do.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Justin said, then walked away from Baron Flick. He moved quickly and caught George by the arm. “What the devil happened?”

George pulled his arm away. “I do not need to have any unwarranted attention from you.”

“Answer my damned question or I’ll give you more attention than you’ll be able to recover from. What was the matter with Clarissa?”

George looked away from Justin, then back to him. “She made a bad decision and now she will have to deal with the repercussions.”

“Did you violate her?” Justin had to physically hold himself back because he was damn near ready to throttle the man. It wouldn’t be an easy fight either. They had nearly the same physique and Justin already knew George enjoyed a good fight.

The man’s jaw clenched. He met Justin’s gaze. “That is none of your damned concern. Now unhand me before I have you tossed out on your ass. I don’t care if you are the brother of a duke.” He jerked his arm away, then straightened his jacket.

“So she is ruined and you deserted her.”

George met Justin’s gaze and stared back unwavering. “I will not be trapped in a marriage I do not want.”

Justin turned on his heel before he pounded the man in the face.

He might not deserve Clarissa himself, but damned if he’d stand by and allow her name to be ruined. The life he could offer her wouldn’t be what she’d dreamt of, and she’d likely not be accepted back in the crowd that had always accepted her. He didn’t have much to offer her, but if she’d have him, what he did have he’d gladly share with her.

…

Clarissa sat in the front parlor of her house while Vivian and Marcus talked about her a few steps away. “I’m right here and I can speak for myself. Stop whispering and speculating and simply ask me what happened.”

Marcus and Vivian stopped talking and turned to face her. Vivian stepped forward. “Of course you’re right, Clarissa, we’re very sorry.” She looked at Marcus. “Come and sit.”

He complied and they sat across from her on the settee. “Whatever has happened, we’ll weather it, as a family,” Marcus said. “Again.”

She smiled. “I appreciate the support, honestly I do,” Clarissa said. “But in truth, this is all my doing, completely my fault, my choice.” She shook her head. “I’m a fool.”

“Can you tell us what happened?” Vivian asked gently.

“In my desperation to marry, I recklessly and ruthlessly attempted to compromise myself.” She laughed, her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. “And I suppose it worked.” She tossed up her arms in defeat. “I am officially ruined.”

Marcus shook his head. “Seems to be a bit of an epidemic lately.”

Vivian patted Clarissa’s knee. “It has always been the way. Women are forced into lives where we have no choices. We’re told whom we must marry and we’re often sold off to the highest bidder. London is a pot simmering and it’s about to over boil.”

“Lovely metaphor, my dear,” Marcus said.

“Yes, well, it is the truth. And the man in question?” Vivian asked.

“It was me,” a male voice said from the door.

Clarissa looked up to see Justin standing in the entrance to the parlor. His presence was enough to start the wellspring of tears she’d thus far been able to hold off. “No, Justin, don’t.”

“I ruined her and I will marry her,” Justin said, ignoring her protest.

Marcus came to his feet. “We’ve been friends for years, Justin, but if you defiled my sister, I might be forced to hurt you.”

“Oh stop it.” Clarissa stood. “All of you. I know you all mean well, but my goodness. Ever since you’ve returned to London, Marcus, this entire family has surrounded itself with my actions and tried to fix everything. The fact of the matter is I went to see Justin that night because George told me he owed him money, which as it turns out is a complete lie because all of his gambling is done not at Rodale’s but rather Rafferty’s, a horrific place down by the Thames.” She took a deep breath. “In my utter insanity and drive to marry George, I mistakenly believed him to be an honest man, a true gentleman. I ignored everyone’s warnings. I was so afraid of what choices I might make outside of him, and I tried to coerce him in to marrying me and he walked out. I honestly can’t say that I blame him. No one needs to pick up the pieces of my mess in an attempt to clean it up. I made a mistake, I shall endure the consequences.”

“So you were in the room with George?” Vivian asked. “You tried to compromise yourself?”

Clarissa took a deep breath. “I thought that if George and I were found alone together, it would be enough. He, as it turned out, had other intentions. That was when Lady Wooten found us.” She gave Justin a weak smile. “It was George. Justin is simply being noble.” Tears stung the back of her eyes. Oh how she wished she wouldn’t cry.

Marcus shook Justin’s hand. “I am thankful I will not have to hurt you. I am rather fond of you.”

“I still wish to marry her. We’ve been seen together; everyone will believe it was me. We can simply say we were already engaged.”

“You were never courting me though,” Clarissa said. She’d longed for a proposal from Justin, but not like this, not in a forced situation. “I’m certain everyone knows that, if they’ve even been paying any attention. No one would honestly believe—”

“That you would lower yourself to be wooed by me?” Justin asked sharply.

Clarissa met his gaze, anger burned in his amber eyes. “No, I was going to say that no one would believe that a man such as yourself would be interested in a woman the likes of me.”

Vivian stepped forward. “Perhaps a discussion meant for later.” She smiled warmly. “Let us all sit and we can have tea and decide how to proceed. Because regardless of what actually happened tonight, Clarissa, your reputation is now damaged beyond anything I can repair. Especially in light of my own actions as of late.”

Most people had accepted Vivian even after her public admission of being a fallen woman, but there were still others who had not been so forgiving. Marcus called for a tea tray and added brandy to the list for himself and Justin.

“I am willing to marry her,” Justin said again. “But I will not beg you,” he said to Clarissa.

“I was a fool. Just as you told me I’d be and just as Ella warned me. I didn’t listen to any of you. George is not at all the man I thought he was.” So now she was brought to the reality that she had a difficult choice. She could resign herself to living in the country or she could marry Justin, a man she knew had no real interest in marrying anyone in society. A man who desired her, but didn’t love her. A man who was far more honorable than she’d ever given him credit for. Funny, she had resigned herself to marry George knowing he didn’t really love or want her, believing he would follow through merely to satisfy his honor. That she had been prepared to do; however, it was a good deal less palatable now that the man who didn’t love her was Justin.

Some women could bounce back from these situations. They might live a bit on the edge of Society, but they became mistresses, well cared for ladies who picked lovers based on the sorts of gifts they could receive. But she could never be one of those ladies. She simply wasn’t sophisticated enough for that. So she could decide right now to be a spinster or to be Mrs. Rodale, the wife of the bastard son of the Duke of Chanceworth. She hated even thinking that way. She didn’t consider Justin’s birthright. He certainly proved to be nobler and more gentlemanly than George ever had.

“Clarissa, this is your decision. Whatever you decide,” Vivian said.

They weren’t going to make her marry him. She looked over at Justin. She could have done much worse for herself, and at least she knew one thing—she would never think of the duties in the marriage bed as tasks to be endured because she desired Justin with every fiber of her being.

“Yes, I will marry you.”

…

The following morning, Vivian pulled Clarissa aside as she came down the stairs.

“Your brother is still asleep, but I should like to have a conversation with you,” Vivian said.

“Thank you,” Clarissa said.

“Let’s sit in the front parlor.” Vivian grabbed Clarissa’s arm.

In such a short amount of time Vivian had become like a sister to her. She hugged her tightly. She missed Rebecca and her guidance. More than likely had she still been living Clarissa would never have gotten herself into such a mess. Perhaps if she had counseled with Vivian, she would have listened.

They walked into the parlor and Vivian sat on the settee. “I suspected you might want to talk a little. About what happened.”

Clarissa sat. “I’m not certain there’s anything to discuss. I made a poor choice and now must live with the consequences. A series of poor choices, actually.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Clarissa nodded. “I don’t suppose I have anything to hide anymore.”

“Do you love George?”

“No, I don’t. I thought I did at one time, but I think I was trying to convince myself that I loved it.”

“Then why so determined to marry him?”

Clarissa recounted the story about Rebecca.

Vivian nodded and gave Clarissa a warm smile. “So you believed your own judgment not good enough?”

“It never was.” Clarissa shook her head. She told Vivian about Christopher, a story she knew Vivian would understand more than anyone else. “So you see, my own judgment has always gotten me in trouble.” She released a short laugh. “I suppose that is precisely what happened here too.”

Vivian patted Clarissa on the knee. “You were trying to do what you thought was best. It would seem that George pretended to be a good man whereas Justin is a good man. There is a difference.”

Justin was a good man, an honorable man. Why had it taken her so long to see that herself? Well, she knew it now, would be reminded it of it every day. She’d be his wife. A wife he never loved. She took a deep breath. “Then I suppose it is for the best that Justin and I are to be married.”

“He will make you happy in a way George never could,” Vivian said.

Clarissa knew that that was the utter truth. Yet at the same time Justin could do something to her that George never could—break her heart. But there was nothing to be done about that now.

“Thank you for talking to me,” Vivian said.

For so long she’d been certain she would have made George a good wife. Obviously, the bond between them hadn’t been enough to change him. It hadn’t been enough to change her, not in the way that her relationship with Justin had changed her. No, George Wilbanks would never be her husband.

Instead, she would be Mrs. Justin Rodale.

…

One day later she was a married woman.

She and her new husband stood on the sidewalk waiting for their carriage. The few friends and family members who had attended the brief ceremony had already departed. Clarissa hadn’t wanted a party. At least not yet. She didn’t deserve one.

The weight of the ring on her finger felt foreign. She looked down at the band encircling her finger. It was beautiful with the filigree details and the fiery opal stone at the center.

“Do you like it?” Justin asked.

Clarissa looked up at him, slightly embarrassed he’d caught her staring at the bauble. “I do. Very much.”

“The stone reminded me of you, polished and shiny on the outside.” He took her hand and held it up to the light, turning her hand slightly. The opal blazed from within. “See that, that is how I see you. That fire inside.” He released her hand. The carriage pulled up alongside them and stopped. It was, by far, the finest coach she’d ever seen.

Justin helped her inside, then took a seat, not across from her, but next to her. Her husband. He would be by her side for the rest of her life now.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I want to show you something.”

They rode along in silence for a while until the rig stopped and Justin once again assisted her down. She looked around and noted the street looked much different in the daylight than it had that fateful night she’d come here alone. Unlike the worn sign at Rafferty’s, Rodale’s sign was freshly painted and tasteful.

Justin took her hand. “Come,” he said.

“Inside?” she asked.

He nodded. “This belongs to you now too.”

She hadn’t expected that. She allowed him to pull her up the stairs and then opened the door and she stepped across the threshold. It was not overly busy because of the time of day, but there were more people here than she had expected. The same man she’d spoken to that first night approached them. Instead of the grizzled frown she’d been greeted with that night, he wore a broad smile.

“Mrs. Rodale,” he said and then grabbed her into a fierce embrace. “Welcome to Rodale’s.”

“Thank you,” she said. She couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected warmth of the man she’d thought to be an ogre.

“Clipps, this is Clarissa. Chrissy, Basil Clipps. He essentially runs this place,” Justin said.

“Mr. Clipps,” she said with a nod.

“Nah, you call me Basil. My wife will be wanting to meet you soon.”

“We can arrange a dinner,” Justin said. “I’m going to show her around. Anything of note today?”

Clipps shook his head. “The young man was back again last night. Your brother is becoming more and more insistent that we let him play the boy.”

“I’ll see to it,” Justin said. He took her hand again and led her forward.

The room was large and divided up into sections, she supposed based on the type of game played there. Heavy wood tables made of the finest mahogany were placed around, and surrounded by matching ornate chairs. Lush red draperies hung from the windows blocking out the sun, but the room was well-lit. There were a few doors off the main room and then a staircase that led upward.

“That door over there,” Justin said pointing to their right, “leads to the kitchen and there is a dining room there. We serve food whenever people want to eat. I hired the cook from Lord Abernathy’s estate.”

They made their way to the stairs and climbed to the top. Once inside, she saw the windows that overlooked the playing floor. “You can watch from up here,” she said.

“Indeed. We don’t catch cheaters very often, but it happens. And I like to stay informed.”

The office had plush furnishings, all the finest materials, like she would find in any wealthy family’s home. “It’s all very lovely.”

“I wanted you to see it,” he said.

“Why?”

“Partly so you could see what I have built. And partly because you are my wife, this business is yours as well.”

She shook her head in confusion. “Am I not simply to manage your household?”

“You are welcomed to do that, but I might want your input for other things. Remember I know about Mr. Bembridge and his talents. He has not salvaged the finances of two families in London. He’s developing quite the reputation. There are men twice your age who would not have made such sound decisions. You have a unique mind for business, Clarissa. This is our business.”

She looked around at everything. The wife of a gaming hell owner. Or as Justin declared, part owner of a gaming hell. This was certainly not the life she’d imagined. For the first time in her adult life, she was thankful Rebecca and Charles and her parents were dead. They would be appalled at what her life had become.

A handful of weeks ago, it had been a scandal for her to stand on the sidewalk outside of this establishment and now she was inside, shared a name with it. So much had happened, she barely recognized herself. And, yet, those familiar feelings of excitement welled up inside her. Her entire life she’d had to fight her own nature to fit into the mold of the perfect society lady.

At least now she didn’t have to. No one would be watching her anymore. She could relax and simply be Clarissa, the wife of the gaming hell owner.

“I took the liberty of responding to your invitation to the Potterfield ball tomorrow night,” Justin said.

She nodded. “It will take some adjustment, I suppose, not attending such events, but I shall get used to it.”

Justin shook his head. “Chrissy, what are you talking about? Marrying me does not mean you can no longer attend parties. I didn’t bring you here as a way of telling you this would be your new evening pastime. You are my wife, I shall attend whatever party you wish to go to and Mr. Clipps will manage things here until I arrive.”

“You wish to take me to balls and soirees and the like?”

“I don’t want you to change your life because you’ve become my wife. You do still wish to be part of Society, do you not?”

She looked up at him, but said nothing for a moment. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Do you not want me to? I was under the impression that you enjoyed such functions,” he said.

“Of course, I’m merely confused as to why you would want to join me. Many of those people have been nothing but rude to you,” she said. Were it her, she probably would be glad to never see those people again.

“Are you ashamed of me?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “No, of course not. I merely meant that—” She waved her hand dismissively. “It is of no consequence what I meant. Of course we will attend parties together. I am your wife.” But this meant that she was not done trying to be the perfect lady, and to make matters worse, now she would have to do so for the both of them, which would not be easy. She’d heard people say wretched things about him before, but as his wife, she’d be damned if she’d allow that kind of talk.