Love Is Blind

  "Oh-ho! What have we here?"

  Adrian glanced back toward Hadley at the grim comment, and saw him bending to pick something up. The man straightened a moment later with a long, wide branch in hand. Frowning, Adrian moved to his side.

  "Do you think that was the branch? Do you think Clarissa broke it off when she hit it?"

  "Not unless she sawed at it first," Hadley said dryly, pointing.

  Adrian noted the marks halfway through the branch on the heavy end, then looked at the strand of long brown hair caught in the bark. Hadley removed the hair and raised an eyebrow. "Clarissa's, by my guess. It looks the right color."

  Adrian nodded.

  "So, someone cut this down ahead of time, lured her out to the fountain, and knocked her out with it. They then dumped her in the fountain, no doubt expecting her to drown. Your plans to meet up with her here are the only thing that saved Clarissa that night."

  Adrian felt a cold kernel of fear begin to grow in his chest. Only his hopes of seeing her that night had saved her. And if he'd chosen a different spot to meet her, or a different night, Clarissa would now be dead. The very idea froze his heart in his chest. The depth of his upset was a bit startling. Adrian hadn't known her long, and yet her happiness and safety were already terribly important to his welfare.

  Hadley tossed the branch down and brushed off his hands. "What of the fire?"

  Adrian blinked. "The fire?"

  "That same night. I understand there was a fire here. You and Clarissa were found together in a somewhat compromising situation, and you announced your intention to marry her."

  "Ah, yes. I had forgotten about that." Adrian's mouth tightened. "The fire occurred directly outside the door to her room. A candle was supposedly left burning on a hall table there and somehow tipped over and started a fire--or at least, that is what they say happened."

  'You do not believe it? Is it because of this--?"

  "Clarissa's door was locked, or possibly jammed shut from the outside. Not that it mattered; the door was too hot by the time I noticed the fire and went over. The fire was roaring on the other side. We had to go out the window. However, had she been alone and asleep ..."

  Hadley nodded grimly. "I shall begin to look into

  the incident at the market when she was nearly trampled. It is possible it was just that--an accident. Still, I shall ask around and see if anyone remembers that day and saw anyone nearby who might have pushed her. I could talk to the staff here about the day she fell down the stairs, as well, but--"

  "Nay." Adrian shook his head. "I would rather not alert anyone to the fact that we suspect someone is trying to hurt her."

  Hadley nodded. "Now, what about Clarissa? If someone is trying to kill her as we suspect, they may redouble their efforts before she marries you."

  "I took care of that. I am paying three of the Crambray footmen to keep an eye on her. I arranged it the night of the fire," Adrian said grimly.

  "And what about the maid?" Hadley asked.

  Adrian shrugged. "She is already supposed to keep an eye on her; she walks her around. Besides, I feared she might tell Clarissa, whom I don't wish anxious or afraid. She is already under a lot of stress with the preparations for the wedding."

  Hadley nodded. "Three should be sufficient. There is--"

  "Adrian Maximillian Montfort!"

  Stiffening, Adrian turned to the path as his mother came into sight leading Clarissa. He was obviously in trouble; his mother only ever used his full name when she felt he had done something wrong. But he couldn't seem to find the wherewithal to care. His brain slipped a gear at the sight of Clarissa.

  She was wearing a lovely cream-colored dress, and her hair--while pulled back at the sides--was mostly down as it had been that night in her room. He liked

  it better this way than all tucked up in one of those convoluted 'dos women all wore to balls. She looked lovely.

  "Oh, do stop gawking at Clarissa," his mother said impatiently, apparently put out. "She will be your wife soon enough, and you may gawk to your heart's content. At the moment, /would like your attention."

  Adrian blinked and turned reluctantly, asking with resignation, "What have I done wrong?"

  "Do you not recall my mentioning having tea with Clarissa today?" his mother asked grimly.

  Adrian's eyebrows rose. "Yes. In fact, Hadley and I decided to join you. It is why we are here."

  "Well, that is lovely," Lady Mowbray said with a smile. It hardened as she added, "Except, we were to have it at your house."

  Adrian blinked. "My house?"

  Lady Mowbray heaved an exasperated sigh. 'Yes, Adrian, your house. You were to arrange it with your staff so that they could make the house spic-and-span and present themselves in their Sunday finest so that Clarissa could meet them all and get acquainted--both with her new home and its staff--before the wedding."

  "Oh." Adrian stared at her, nonplussed. Come to think of it, he did have a vague recollection of a comment about tea with Clarissa, followed by one about Clarissa meeting the staff, which he hadn't understood at the time but which made perfect sense now. They weren't yet her staff, but they soon would be, and by having tea in his home she would have been able to become acquainted with them.

  It was a very good idea. Crucial, even. Clarissa's life and home would change with their wedding. She

  would have a new residence and new staff, and meeting them ahead of time was really important. It was a shame he hadn't paid more attention to his mother.

  Lady Mowbray heaved another put-upon sigh, then glanced at Hadley. "Mr. Hadley. My son has mentioned you to me."

  Adrian stiffened, afraid she would give away what the man did for him, but she was clever enough not to, and simply said, "Clarissa, this is Mr. Hadley. He assists Adrian with projects from time to time. Mr. Hadley, this is my soon-to-be daughter-in-law, Lady Clarissa Crambray."

  "Lady Crambray."

  Hadley moved forward to take her hand, offering a smile as his eyes moved over her head. Adrian knew he was searching for the wound from the night of the fire. However, there was nothing left to see. It had been a week and a half since the accident, and while there had been a bump and bruise at the time, there was no longer. Had Adrian been able to get hold of the man sooner, there might have been something to notice, but Hadley had been off in the north of England to handle another matter for another lord. He'd returned only the night before, and had come to see Adrian first thing this morning.

  "Good day, Mr. Hadley," Clarissa murmured. "What do you assist Adrian with?"

  Adrian stiffened at the question, but needn't have bothered. Hadley was quick on his feet and lied without hesitation. "Oh, this and that. A bit of everything, really."

  "Oh," Clarissa said, but still looked curious.

  Hadley continued, "In fact, his lordship was just telling me this morning that, for his next project, he

  wishes to create a fountain out at Mowbray in the fashion of the one at your father's home here in town, which is why he invited me to tea with you two ladies today. He thought this way we could get acquainted, and I could take a look at it, so I know what I am talking about when I approach workers about making one," he explained. Adrian marveled at the man's skill.

  "Oh, of course." Clarissa smiled widely. "That would be lovely. Now, Mr. Hadley shall be returning to your house for tea with us then, shall he?"

  "Er ..." Adrian frowned. "I believe Ffoulkes was seeing that Cook would make tea here."

  "We explained the mix-up to Ffoulkes when we arrived," Clarissa said. "He said not to worry, that he would tell Cook not to bother. He did not think she could have gotten much farther than putting water on to boil."

  "We also explained the mix-up to Jessop," his mother announced. "And he was going to see to it that your cook got started on tea at once, so it would be ready when we returned."

  'You were at the house?" Adrian asked.

  His mother nodded. "How do you think we learned you were here? Jessop told us. We
explained to him that you were confused, and that we were to have tea in your home, and then we followed you here to bring you back."

  "Oh, well, then ... I guess we could head home," Adrian murmured, wondering how upset his staff was with him at the moment. He'd learned long ago that angering one's help could mean a good deal of discomfort.

  They walked back along the path to the house, and were actually preparing to get into the carriage when

  Hadley said, "Actually, my lord, perhaps it would do me better to get to work on this latest project rather than join you for tea, lovely as that would be."

  "Oh, yes. Yes, of course." Adrian turned to offer his hand. "Thank you, Hadley. I shall look forward to hearing from you."

  The man shook his hand with a nod, then turned and made his way off up the street.

  "Is Mr. Hadley not joining us after all?" Clarissa asked as Adrian got into the carriage. He took the empty bench seat across from the ladies.

  "No. He has business to take care of," he said vaguely, setding on his seat, his eyes sliding over her. She was like a ray of sunshine in that light-colored dress, and Adrian marveled that she grew more beautiful to him every time he saw her.

  His mother began to chatter about their fittings that morning, and Adrian listened with half an ear as they made the short journey to his home. His mind was conjuring thoughts of his last ride in a carriage with Clarissa, and he decided it was probably a good thing that he didn't live far from his mother's house. Despite Lady Crambray's presence, he felt himself stir in his breeches.

  At his home, Jessop had the front door open before Adrian and his companions had quite reached it. "Welcome home, my lord."

  One look at the man's face, and Adrian knew he was in the doghouse with his butler and probably the rest of the staff. He didn't need the sneer that greeted him to know that. He supposed the servants had been rushing about like crazy, cleaning and dusting. Not that his home or servants were not always neat and clean, but they would have put a little special shine

  into things, or at least tried to in the short time since they'd learned their new lady was coming.

  Yes, if they'd had more warning about Clarissa's visit, they would have done all in their power to make a good first impression. However, they hadn't, because he hadn't paid attention to his mother, so he hadn't informed them about the planned tea today, which was why Jessop was presently glaring at him as if he were some form of pond scum the man had just noticed on the rug.

  "Never fear, Jessop," Lady Mowbray said as she led the way inside. "I have already lectured him on not listening to me and not warning you."

  "Very good, my lady," the butler said. But his glare did not ease.

  Adrian grimaced, then turned to Clarissa, who was squinting around at his entry. It was a dark blue-and-slate color scheme, which suited her perfecdy, making her stand out in her cream-colored dress. She looked as if she belonged in his home.

  "Do not even bother to glare, Jessop. He is obviously too taken with his fiancee to pay any notice. I fear my son is quite useless, and will continue to be for quite some time--at least until after he has married our lovely Clarissa. Do you not think she is lovely, Jessop?"

  "Quite lovely, my lady," Jessop agreed.

  "They, will give me beautiful grandbabies, do you not think?"

  "Most assuredly, my lady."

  Spotting the blush that rose on Clarissa's face, Adrian turned a glare on the speakers and said, "We are present and listening, you know."

  "So, you do hear me on occasion," Lady Mowbray commented dryly, then slid her hand through Jessop's

  arm. She led him up the hall, saying, "Come along, my good man. We shall go see what Cook has managed to whip up to save the day. Adrian is really quite fortunate to have staff as clever and quick as all of you. No matter what crises arise, you all handle them with the greatest aplomb--and I must say it always impresses me."

  Adrian rolled his eyes as he listened to his mother butter up the butler. Still, within moments the whole household would be killing themselves to please her, and not one person would be upset at the chaos into which they'd been thrown by unexpected guests.

  "I am sorry if we are causing a fuss," Clarissa said quietly. "We need not stay for tea if--"

  "Nonsense," Adrian interrupted. He stepped forward to draw Clarissa into his arms, only to pause as his mother called over her shoulder, "Show her around your home, Adrian. It will be hers soon, and she should at least know something about it before she comes here to live."

  Letting his arms drop to his sides, Adrian sighed and took Clarissa's arm to lead her to the staircase. "I will show you upstairs first."

  "If you are not down in a quarter hour, I will come looking for you," his mother's voice floated back as she disappeared into the kitchens with Jessop.

  Adrian grimaced as he led Clarissa upstairs. The wedding was only a day away; surely there was no longer a need to observe the proprieties?

  Chapter Twelve

  Clarissa woke up early, realized it was her wedding day, and simply couldn't get back to sleep. She lay in bed for a few minutes drinking excitedly about the day ahead--and the night--then recalled her new spectacles. Sitting up abrupdy, she retrieved them from the small detachable pocket she usually wore under her skirt and popped them onto her face.

  A little sigh slid from her lips as the world came into focus. Most of the time everything around Clarissa was a blur, and her head was slightly achy from squinting. Her spectacles might not look good on her, but when she was wearing them the world around her certainly iooked better.

  It had been difficult not to wear them, not to scream with joy to everyone that she could finally see. However, she still felt it was better to keep them a secret until Adrian formed a tendre for her.

  If he formed a tendre for her, she thought. Clarissa

  bleed. And it will hurt as you would expect. But if you are very lucky, he will finish quickly and leave you alone to sleep and weep in privacy. I somehow doubt Lord Mowbray will be so considerate."

  Leaving behind the mess she'd made, Lydia turned to the door and opened it. As she walked out, she said dryly, "Enjoy your wedding night."

  Clarissa watched the door close, then moved weakly to sit on the dressing table chair. She didn't seem able to tear her gaze away from the pie. The barely golden, almost white crust was stained with--and soaking up-- the red juices of the smashed fruit. The truncheon still stood up out of it, proud and hard.

  "Damn," she breathed. Clarissa had sworn to herself that she would not allow Lydia to upset her, but this was .. . well, it was upsetting.

  "My lady?"

  Clarissa turned at Joaq,'s voice, and stared at her maid's blurred image that slipped into the room. "I saw your stepmother leaving as I approached. Is everything all right?"

  "I. .." Clarissa paused and cleared her throat, then promptly forgot what she'd intended to say. She asked instead, "Do we really have a maiden's veil, and does the man really have to break through it?"

  "Well..." Clarissa could hear the reluctance in her voice.

  She bit her lip. "It is true, is it not?"

  "Well, yes. But--"

  "And will there be blood and pain?"

  Joan sighed. "My lady, you should not have let Lady Crambray upset you. The first time is painful for most women, but--"

  "Most?" Clarissa interrupted hopefully. "Then 'tis not always so?"

  "I have heard that some women suffer little in the way of pain," Joan assured her.

  "Heard," Clarissa echoed. "Heard? But do you know anyone who did not suffer pain and bleed?"

  "Well.. ."Joan hesitated, then closed the bedchamber door and approached with an air of determination. "Never you mind. Come. I am sure Lord Mowbray will make it as easy on you as he can. We should get you ready now."

  "But--"

  "My lady," Joan interrupted. "Do you wish to marry him or not? Would you really prefer to marry Lord Prudhomme or someone of his ilk? Because I assure you that I do not t
hink Lord Prudhomme would at all concern himself with your comfort or well-being."

  "Nay," Clarissa agreed, then stood with a sigh. "Let us get me ready then. I am to marry today."

  She felt, a distinct lack of enthusiasm, and she knew it was reflected in her voice. She had been looking forward to the night ahead until Lydia's little talk; she'd thought it would be like the night in her room, when Adrian made her toes curl and her heart beat rapidly and excitement had coursed through her like water in a river after a hard rain. Now she knew it would involve pain and blood, and she was suddenly very sorry she'd been born a woman. After all, surely it was better to be the truncheon than the pie.

  The priest was old and stiff, and looked no more pleased to be there than Clarissa felt at the moment. It had turned out to be a cold, rainy day, unusual for the

  middle of summer. Clarissa couldn't help but think it wasn't a good portent of what was to come.

  "Clarissa?"

  She glanced around, startled by Adrian's murmur, and frowned. Everyone seemed to be looking at her. At least, it appeared that way from what she could see.

  "Do you ..." the priest began in weary tones that suggested he'd done this once or twice already.

  "I do," Clarissa interrupted quickly, embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming at such an important time. Then she realized what she'd said, and sighed to herself. In truth, she was no longer sure she wanted to "do" anything. Not if it meant Adrian was going to truncheon her pie.

  Too late to worry about that, though, Clarissa supposed. She'd accepted her fate and now Adrian was doing the same; and it was as good as done. She was Lady Clarissa Montfort, wife to the Earl of Mowbray. And she didn't need to ask if he wished to truncheon her. It seemed rather obvious he would.

  "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

  The words had barely registered before Adrian turned her into his arms and kissed her. Clarissa remained stiff under his embrace, her mind a mass of confusion. As little as eight hours ago she'd been excited and happy at the thought of marrying him. Now all she could think of and see when she closed her eyes was that club smashing that pastry.