Page 31 of Betting on a Duke
Chapter Thirteen
Clarice, dressed ina lovely pink taffeta evening gown, waited in the parlor for Samuel’s arrival. Feeling nervous, she stood by the window, looking out at the street. When Samuel’s carriage pulled up, her uneasiness grew. It should have subsided once he arrived, but thanks to her no-good father, it didn’t. She had no idea how she would bring up the affair with Samuel.
While she awaited his entrance, she poured sherry into two crystal-stemmed glasses and set them on the table in front of the settee. She needed the fortified wine to calm the storm churning inside her.
“The Duke of Stanton,” a footman announced.
“Please have a seat. I took the liberty of pouring us a drink. I hope sherry is acceptable.”
Samuel’s eyes followed her every move, and once she sank down onto the dark green velvet settee, he joined her. He picked up one of the wine glasses and handed it to her. “I believe you could use this. I heard about your father’s visit.” She took the glass from his hand and took a sip, her eyes widening at his knowledge of her afternoon visitor. He picked up his glass and drained half of it. “That is good. Thank you.”
They both turned toward each other at the same time. Clarice giggled nervously, and Samuel chuckled. “Perhaps we should get the discussion about my father’s visit over with so we canrelax and enjoy the evening,” Clarice said as she took another sip, then set the glass down on the table.
“What did he say to you?” Samuel asked, setting his now-empty glass down and taking both her hands. “And keep in mind that he cornered me at White’s and shared several shocking tales with me.”
Clarice opened her mouth, then closed it. She cleared her throat and said, “I see. So he told you about the affair. Do you believe him?”
“I want to believe he’s lying.”
“Except,” she prodded.
He sighed. “When your father told me, my first reaction was that it was a lie. My father and your mother would never participate in an affair and hurt the people they loved most. Then I remembered several times when I came upon the two of them alone. At the time I had no reason to suspect anything between them. Thinking back now and picturing the circumstances of them in a room alone with the door closed and the two of them on a settee together looking flushed, I think I believe your father. But I had no notion of it until today. I had no idea my father was having an affair with your mother.”
“Perhaps you could talk to your servants who were in residence then. Maybe one of them saw something and could corroborate my father’s accusations.”
“It’s not necessary.” He swiped his hand through his hair. “The more I remember little details here and there, the more I’m convinced it’s true.”
“Now I understand why my father acted so irrationally and why my mother retreated to her rooms. I thought it was because of me.”
“My father was not the same after that day. But I don’t believe my mother ever knew. She worried about my father’s health. I’m not certain she would have been so concerned if she had known. She did appear lost without your mother’s friendship.” Samuel released her hands, pulled a starched white handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and handed it to her. “It’s so sad, really. I think my father and yourmother must have loved each other deeply.”
“Thank you.” Clarice took the handkerchief and dabbed at her tears. “There’s more. What happened between you and my father? There’s something else, isn’t there?”
Samuel stood and moved to look out the same window she had when she saw his carriage pull up. “I often wondered if you knew what happened after.”
“I don’t.”
“I realize that, now. But still, I can’t believe you never caught wind of it. Chesterfield really did keep you isolated.”
“He did.”
Turning around, Samuel leaned against the window, his sad eyes looking right into hers. “You remember the day I proposed and we made love by the pond? The day we thought our fathers were negotiating your marriage contract? The day your father took you away from me? I didn’t take the news well when my father told me, and I went to your house that night to take you away to Gretna Green.”
Hearing his words, more tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away.
“Your father and several footmen were lying in wait for me at the servants’ entrance. Your father had a gun and threatened that if I ever came back or tried to see you, he’d put a bullet between my eyes. And to prove he was serious, he shot me in the upper arm.”
“What?” Clarice yelled as she stood and went to him, fighting the need to run her hands all over him to convince herself he was unharmed. Silly, since all that happened seven years ago. “How did I not notice the scar last night?”
“Maybe because you were distracted. Anyway, I also got a lung infection and almost died. It took months before I was strong enough to leave the house. By then, you had married Chesterfield.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on hischest. The steady beat of his heart sounded in her ears. “I am so sorry for what my father did. Clearly, he lost his mind.”
“He seemed sane to me. He took his vengeance against my father out on me.” His arms went around her, and he kissed the top of her head. “He threatened me today with some seriously damaging stuff. Did he threaten you as well?”
Hearing his words chilled her to the bone. “He told me that if I continue seeing you, when Chesterfield’s heir arrives, he would contact him. Between the two of them, they would marry me off to someone of my father’s choosing.” She scoffed. “I’m of age and have my own money, so they have no control over who I court or marry.” She swallowed. “At least I believe so. I’m not willing to take unnecessary risks in that quarter, though. My father would find a way, even go so far as to kidnap me, I’m sure.”
“What will you do?” The desolation in his voice pierced her heart.
