The Viscount’s Darling Adventure by Maggie Dallen

8

If Clarissa smiled any wider, her face might crack.

But as the sun shone into the music room where her family had mostly assembled, she knew she had to put the most positive spin she could on the plan she was about to pitch.

Hence the wide, fake smile.

“Do stop grinning like that,” Tabetha said as she took her seat next to her duke. “You look like you’re plotting murder.”

“Who are we plotting against?” Walton asked as he placed an arm around Tabetha’s shoulders. “The Ainsworths, I presume?”

Mariah covered her mouth as she stifled a giggle. “After the theater last night, it's clear Clarissa is not the one holding a grudge but intends to act as the voice of reason.”

“Clarissa as the voice of reason?” Their brother, Darius, entered the room along with his wife. His face set in a perpetual scowl, his title Earl of Darling had never suited a man less.

He was large, burly, and before he’d met Evelyn, prone to hitting first and talking after. Not that he was a bad man. In fact, he had a kind and generous heart. He just also had the Rutland tendency to act rashly.

She winced. Many would accuse her of the same. And they’d likely be right, not that she’d admit that now. “I’ll have you know some consider me quite reasonable.”

“Who?” Darius asked in all seriousness as he took a seat on the settee across from Tabetha and Walton. Mariah sat in a chair perpendicular to them and opposite Clarissa. Everyone was assembled and grouped perfectly for this conversation. “Name one person who considers you the reasonable Rutland?”

She sniffed, giving her brother a glare. “I will. Momentarily.”

“Do,” he replied as his wife settled next to him. “I wait with bated breath.”

Evelyn clicked her tongue. “Darius. We appreciate Clarissa’s efforts to be more…”

“Boring?” Tabetha asked with a barely disguised snort, clearly enjoying her own joke.

Even Mariah laughed a little at that, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I was going to say sedate,” Evelyn returned, shaking her head. “At least, since the unfortunate incident with the cutlery.”

Clarissa attempted not to let out a huff of frustration. They would not get far in this conversation if they were going to focus on Clarissa’s past transgressions.

“It was a spoon,” Mariah volunteered. “Which I think is an important distinction. It’s not as though Clarissa was throwing knives.”

Walton gave a good laugh at that. “Now that would have been a sight I would most like to see. Rarely have people bothered me quite so much as the Ainsworth clan.”

Clarissa wished to drop her head in her hands. “I believe most of society is aware of how you feel about the Ainsworths. Publicly exchanging barbs the way you did last night?”

Walton has the decency to look down at his lap, a touch of color darkening his cheeks.

This seemed the perfect moment to dive into the plan. Taking a breath, Clarissa straightened her shoulders. “Which is precisely the problem. If we don’t stop this behavior soon, we’ll prove all of society right.”

“What do you mean?” Darius leaned toward her, his face growing hard.

“I mean, both families are in danger of looking like…” She paused, searching for the right word.

“Ninnies?” Mariah volunteered.

“Oh,” Tabetha let out a laugh. “That is a fun word. What if we added onto it to make it like a Shakespearean insult?”

Mariah cocked her head. “Shakespearean? How does that work?”

“He liked long-winded repartee. For example, he wouldn’t just say ninny. He’d add flourish and say something like, addle-brained mammering ninnies.”

Clarissa shook her head. Why could they not focus? “You’re both a couple of muggins.”

“Yes!” Tabetha clapped. “That’s the spirit. Cotton headed addle-brained mammering ninny muggins.”

Clarissa pressed her hands to her temples, drawing several deep breaths. “Yes. Both families are in danger of looking exactly like that.”

Tabetha nodded but Darius’s features had only grown darker. “Why should we look like…whatever Tabetha just said. We’ve done nothing wrong.”

This was the hard part. She winced as she looked up at her brother. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

The family quieted at that.

Pressing her hands together, Clarissa forged ahead. “When even our very proper duke is publicly tossing insults back and forth with a respected matron of society, we’ve a problem.”

Walton winced again.

Clarissa fidgeted. “And honestly, there is still the entire business with the duel.”

Darius shot up from the settee. “What about it?”

Evelyn reached for his hand, pulling him back down. Clarissa waited until he was seated. “What was your involvement precisely?”

“I already told you,” Darius answered his hands fisting. “I tried to stop it.”

“Then why did I hear that you took credit for it at a dinner party a month ago?” Clarissa asked, cocking her head to the side. She hated to call her brother out this way, but it had to be done. He couldn’t quiet the rumors of his involvement if he also occasionally used his involvement as a social weapon.

To her surprise, her brother went white at her words, his expression growing pained. “I…” he started. “I didn’t mean…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I didn’t mean it. I was spouting off and—” He pointed toward the duke. “I was trying to put the fear of God into that one.”

“And that—” She pointed her finger at him in turn. “That is precisely the problem. We have to stop spouting off. We have to stop fueling the rumors about us. The ones that say you were responsible for the duel and the ones that say we have no self-control.”

To their credit, all her siblings stared down at their laps. Evelyn, however, was beaming. “I’ve done it,” she said with a clap. “You finally understand. You know what you need to do to operate in society.”

Clarissa’s brows lifted. She’d not tell Evelyn that Leo might have had a great deal to do with her new realization. She’d changed much in the short time he’d been in her life. Her view of society, herself, and most of all, what she wanted from her future. Instead, she cleared her throat and continued. “Have you even considered telling the Ainsworth family what happened that day of the duel? You’re the only one who knows.”

He opened his mouth then shut it again. “They placed the blame on me before I was given half a chance to explain. I think they’ve proven that they’d never listen.”

“And what have we proven? From their perspective, what assumptions have we reaffirmed as I send spoons flying?” She looked at each of them in turn. “Let’s recount, shall we? How about the time Tabetha fell down in the middle of the dance floor?”

“That was to protect me,” Walton interjected.

“But see it from their side,” Clarissa said. “Darius has made public threats—”

“Deserved,” Darius growled back.

“Nonetheless.” Clarissa spread out her hands. “It’s possible that assumptions have been made on both sides. And that perhaps direct conversation might be the answer to our miscommunications.”

“Why?” Tabetha asked. “Why are you so concerned about this?”

Why indeed? Clarissa started to answer and then stopped again. Did she tell him that she had a secret hope? That if the two families could set aside their differences, there was a chance that…she closed her eyes, blocking those hopes out. “Evelyn, would you like to answer that one?”

“Of course. Both families are making fools of themselves.”

For a moment, no one answered. Tabetha’s mouth turned down. “I meant why do you suddenly care about society?”

Mariah narrowed her gaze. “It has something to do with Lord Ware. I’m certain of that.”

Clarissa blinked in surprise, a protest on her lips. But then she had a flash of that cryptic conversation Mariah had overheard in Lady Harriet’s garden, and for a moment she wondered just how much Mariah understood.

“What do you mean?” Tabetha asked.

Mariah cocked her head. “Have any of you ever wondered what I do when I am behind the ferns?”

The siblings exchanged a wary look. This sounded like one of those questions where there was no right answer.

“Hide?” Clarissa asked, but a bit of shame welled up inside. Because she really hadn’t given it much thought, and her sister deserved more consideration than that.

“I watch,” Mariah said, her chin notching. “And I listen. I like it. People are a bit like puzzles. How they fit together is the trick. And with Lord Ware, there are several pieces missing. Despite all I’ve seen and all I’ve heard, I still don’t know what he’s about. But there is something that’s happened between the two of them that Clarissa is not sharing.” Mariah’s eyes narrowed, but Clarissa was shocked to see concern rather than suspicion in her sister’s gaze. “Is he blackmailing you?”

Darius jumped up again.

Clarissa rose too. He’d done nothing of the sort. The only crime Leo could be guilty of was theft. She was fairly certain he’d stolen her heart.

“Blackmail?” Darius rumbled, his face stony. “The viscount is blackmailing you?”

“Of course not,” she cried. “Mariah. You have it all wrong.”

“What then?” Darius took a step toward her. “Has he been forward?”

She sighed. Perhaps she should have told them about the masquerade sooner. Or some part. But it had been her beautiful little secret. Her adventure. “He...that is to say...we danced.”

“Danced?” Darius repeated scratching his temple.

“Danced?” Mariah repeated.

“Danced,” she answered. “At the masquerade. And neither of us knew who the other was, and…” How did one say this without saying too much? “And when I didn’t know who he was I found him to be—” Wonderful. Lovely. Perfect. “Pleasant.”

“Pleasant?” Darius scratched his head some more.

“That is what I said.” Clarissa sighed in exasperation. “Before anyone else repeats it, he was pleasant, and it made me wonder how much of our animosity was presumed.”

“Presumed—”

“Darius,” Clarissa interrupted. “Please don’t repeat what I say again. It’s not helping.” She pressed her lips together, giving a silent prayer for understanding. “Anyway. I’d like you to consider meeting with the Ainsworth family without agenda or preconceptions.”

No one said a word and the silence seemed to swell in the room, filling it until it was bouncing off the walls. Not exactly the reaction she’d hoped for but she’d come too far now, and so Clarissa pressed forward. “A dinner,” she said in a rush, finally getting out the one word she’d been working toward.

No one answered.

She looked at each of them. Darius looked furious, Evelyn was beaming with pride, Tabetha looked curious, and Walton seemed to be thinking.

Mariah, however, was still frowning. “I’ve observed several members of the family. Most notably Lord Ware’s aunt. She’s not a kind woman.”

Clarissa nodded. She wasn’t terribly fond of his cousin Charlotte, either, but that was not the point. “We don’t have to like them. We just need to be able to be in the same room with them and not cause a scene.”

Walton cleared his throat. “I’ll host.”

Everyone looked at him.

“I should apologize for my comments last night, and my home is more neutral territory than if you tried to have them here.”

“Even if we agree,” Darius tossed himself back onto the settee. “They likely won’t.”

“Yes, they will,” Evelyn interjected. “They know how to work society better than most, and none of them would ever deny an invitation from a duke.”

“Crud,” Darius mumbled under his breath.

Clarissa smiled. That one word meant that she was victorious. Her brother would concede. They’d be having dinner with the Ainsworths.

“I’ll have to serve fish,” Walton said absently.

“Why?” Tabetha asked.

“We don’t want any knives at the table.”

Clarissa pressed her lips together, remembering Leo’s comments. “You might want to put any errant vases away as well.”

“Good idea,” he nodded. “And the tools for the fireplace.”

Darius huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” But then he grimaced, running a large hand through his hair. “Heavy candlesticks too.”

It was settled. Dinner with the Ainsworth family where only the softest food would be served, and no sharp objects would be on hand.