Love Is Blind (18 page)

Adrian watched Reginald return to his game, then gave a sigh and walked out into the hall. His eyebrows rose as he saw that Clarissa, her father, and his mother were all missing. At first he assumed that meant that they had fixed her hair and returned to the party. Adrian decided to find her, but then he heard his mother's voice, followed by Clarissa's. Pausing, he peered up the hall. The door to the room right next to

the wardrobe was open, and it hadn't been before. Moving up the hall, he peered inside. His eyes widened incredulously.

"What on earth have you done to her?" he gasped, hurrying into the room. Catching Clarissa by the d, he pulled her out of the clutches of the two people who were in the process of utterly destroying her coiffure. "Is it as bad as it feels?" Clarissa asked unhappily, e hand moving over her hair.

"No, of course it is not," Lady
Mowbray
said quickly; but she was biting her lip and couldn't seem to look at Clarissa without wincing. Adrian wasn't at all surprised. Her lovely hair had become a tangled mess, tucked and stacked and wrapped here there and where else. It bore absolutely no resemblance to style at all, but looked more like someone had dropped a bird's nest upside down on her head. He shook his head. "Mother—"

not 'Mother' me, Adrian. I am not the one who messed it up in the first place. Dragging the poor girl into the wardrobe—a
wardrobe,
for heaven's sake—and messing it up?"

an ground his teeth together, but merely said, "Where is Mary? She was going to ask Lady Guernsey if her maid would help with this."

- she? Well, isn't she clever?" Lady
Mowbray

sounded impressed, but frowned. "But she has not

come with a maid. Besides," she said with a defeated

sigh "I doubt even a lady's maid could do much to re-

put this mess we've made. I fear Clarissa's hair needs a

proper brushing out and redoing."

"Hmm." John
Crambray
pursed his lips and said, "Well, 'tis growing late anyway. Perhaps you had best

take Clarissa home in the carriage, son. Have my driver take you home afterward; then send him back for myself and Lydia."

"Yes, of course." Adrian glanced at Clarissa, relieved when she didn't appear to be terribly upset at the turn of events.

Adrian's mother and Clarissa's father saw them out. Lord
Crambray
then had a word with the driver before turning to lead Lady
Mowbray
back into the house.

Chapter Ten

"I am sorry," Clarissa murmured as the carriage began

Adrian glanced at her with surprise. "For what?" That your evening had to end because of my hair." A small laugh burst from his lips. "That is nothing for you to apologize for. I messed it up in the first

Clarissa nodded, apparently accepting that it was his

fault
.
 
She didn't look upset, he noted, and she cleared

her throat and asked, "Did you mean what you said?"

"When?"

"That you are not marrying me to avoid scandal, but

actually
wish
to wed me."

Adrian smiled faintly. Clarissa's face was all screwed

up as she squinted and tried to see him. It was obvious

his answer was important to her. 'Yes, I meant it."

Clarissa bestowed a smile on him that was like sun-s

shine after a hard rain. Adrian had to swallow or choke on the sudden lump in his throat.

"I am glad, my lord. I wish to marry you too. It is not just the scandal for me either," she assured him solemnly.

Adrian let slip a little sigh. She looked so beautiful and sweet and—

"Are you going to kiss me again?"

Adrian's thoughts scattered like leaves in a breeze. "What?"

"I like it when you kiss me," Clarissa explained. "And I would not mind at all if you wished to kiss me again. So ... will you?"

"No," he said abruptly.

She looked hurt. "Why? Do you not want to—?"

"Of course I want to," Adrian said dryly, and her hurt look disappeared.

"Then why will you not kiss me?"

Adrian frowned. "Most ladies would not ask such things."

"I am not most ladies," Clarissa replied. "Besides, Father always said, 'Do you not ask, you will not know.' And I want to know. Why will you not kiss me if we both want you to?"

Adrian scowled, but of course she couldn't see his scowl, so it didn't cow her in the least. Letting out an exasperated breath, he decided to tell her the truth. She'd asked for it, after all. Besides, it might encourage her
to
be
more
circumspect. "Because if I kiss you, I will want to touch you."

"I
like
it when you touch me," Clarissa answered promptly.

"But if I touch you," Adrian went on, "then I will want to make love to you."

"I think I might like that, too."

Adrian raised an eyebrow. 'You
think?"

"Well.. ." Clarissa hesitated and then asked, "Was what you did to me in my room the night of the fire lovemaking?"

"No," Adrian answered, his voice harsh as he recalled the event. It seemed so long ago, and yet like only a moment. He could remember the taste of her, the way she'd moved beneath his seeking hands and mouth. God, he had an erection again just at the thought! He realized with disgust that he had no control around her at all.

"It was not?" Clarissa said with a frown. "Then what was that?"

"I... It..." Adrian scowled, at a loss for how to explain. "Yes, it was, sort of. But it was not. .." He paused and glared at her. "Has no one explained these things to you?"

"No." Clarissa tilted her head and then shrugged. "Never mind, my lord. You need not speak of it if it makes you uncomfortable. I am sure Lydia will explain things to me the day of the wedding."

Adrian blanched in horror. The woman would terrorize Clarissa with tales that would leave her a quivering mass of fear and anxiety; he was sure of it. He would have the devil of a time soothing and comforting her, and the whole night would be one long, awkward, fear-ridden trial. He could not let Lydia explain things to her. Someone else would have to do it.

"I shall have my mother explain things to you," he decided. "If Lydia tries, just tell her to stop, and do not listen to anything she says."

"Oh, no," Clarissa said with a firm shake of her head.
 
"I would be too embarrassed
 
to have your

mother talk to me about such things. Besides, it would be a deliberate insult to Lydia, and I begin to think that there is more to pity about Lydia than to dislike her for."

"I will not have Lydia scaring you with tales of blood and pain and—"

"There will be blood and pain?" Clarissa asked with horror.

"No," Adrian replied, silently cursing his big mouth.

"Well, then, why would you say that? There
is
blood and pain! You just don't want me to know."

"Dammit," Adrian muttered. Now he'd mucked everything up.

"How much blood and how much pain, my lord?" Clarissa looked terribly anxious now. He cursed himself again.

"Clarissa—" Adrian began, but she interrupted.

"Nay, my lord. You cannot fob me off. I will know," she insisted, then just as quickly said, "Never mind, I do not wish to discomfort you. I shall ask Lydia the moment she and Father return tonight. Mayhap this will bring us closer together, and she and I can become friends."

Dear Lord!
Adrian sat up and said firmly, "I refuse to allow you to ask Lydia."

"We are not yet married, my lord. You cannot refuse to allow me anything."

Adrian's eyes widened at the unconcern she showed at ignoring him. "Do you intend to disobey me so nonchalantly once we are married?"

"I fear I probably shall," Clarissa admitted, her tone apologetic. She then quickly added, "Though never nonchalantly—and only when I do not agree with whatever it is I am disobeying."

A burst of laughter slipped from Adrian's lips, and she tilted her head curiously.

'You do not seem angry, my lord."

"Nay," he said. "In truth, I suspect very few women enter marriage intending to obey. I find it refreshing that you admit to it."

"Oh." Clarissa shrugged. "Well, I do try to be honest, my lord."

"Right." Adrian sighed, straightened his shoulders, and said, "If I tell you about it myself, will you leave off letting Lydia terrify you?"

"Aye."

"Well, then, I shall do my best to educate you," he muttered. Sitting back, he considered where to start.

After several minutes of his thinking, Clarissa asked, "My lord? Are you not going to tell me?"

"I'm thinking," he growled.

And he was. He was racking his brain, trying to sort out how to explain things. This was not something he should
have
to explain. He was a man, dammit! Men did not explain sex to virgins. Or at least, they should not have to. But it looked like he was going to have to. It was that, or he could let Lydia make a nightmare of their wedding night.

"Perhaps I can help, my lord."

Adrian blinked at the suggestion, and turned to stare at her with bewilderment. "Help?"

"Aye," Clarissa said, then added, "Well, I am not completely ignorant. I did grow up in the country and have seen stallions cover mares."

"
'Tis
not the same tiling between a man and woman," Adrian said at once-but the comment had brought to his mind an image of doing just that—

mounting her like a stallion. He could imagine the soft lines of her back, the curves of her buttocks, the—

"Are you sure?" Clarissa interrupted his musings.
"I
once surprised the stable master when he had one of the milkmaids bent over a bale of hay in the barn, and—"

"Oh, God, please stop." Adrian gasped as his mind made a leap, projecting an image of Clarissa in a milkmaid's dress, bent over a bale of hay, her skirt up around her hips and him pounding into her from behind.

Banishing the image from his mind, he took several deep breaths, then corrected himself by explaining desperately, "It
can
be approached in such a manner, but not the first time. The first time 'tis better to approach it face-to-face."

"Oh, I see," Clarissa murmured, and he was just breathing a sigh of relief to have the task over with when she asked, "Why?"

Adrian cleared his throat. "Because the first time can be rather uncomfortable for you."

"Was it uncomfortable your first time?" Clarissa asked.

"No."

"Then why must it be uncomfortable my first time?"

It was a perfectly reasonable question, but Adrian had no intention of explaining. He couldn't. He didn't have a clue how to go about it, and didn't intend to try. Not until she said, "
'Tis
all right, my lord. I shall ask Lydia," and reminded him of all his previous fears.

Cursing, he sat up straight and said, "You have a . .. There is this ... Ask her," he finally ended lamely, and felt an immediate ass for doing so. It would have been easier to show her—easier than explaining, certainly. And another part of his brain, the part that had all the

improper but fun ideas, pointed out that were he to show her here, tonight, he needn't fear her refusing to marry him next week; Clarissa would no longer have a choice, whether she was disgusted by his scar or not.

"Like this?"

"Hmm?" Drawn from his thoughts, Adrian glanced to the side to see that Clarissa had turned to face him on the bench seat.

"Would we be facing each other like this?" she asked.

"No, you'd be on your back, and I'd be over you," Adrian answered absently—but then he frowned as that picture filled his mind. It was an image of Clarissa lying on her back, face wreathed with excitement, her head twisting as it had the other night

"Why must I be on my back?"

Adrian blinked the image away and glanced at her, trying to concentrate on her question. "Well, you do not
have
to be. It can be done with me on my back and you on top instead." But that image immediately rose in his mind: him lying back on a bed, his hands covering and caressing her breasts as she rode him.

"Are there many ways to do it, my lord?"

"Yes." Adrian couldn't help but notice that his voice was growing deeper and huskier. All this talk was rather affecting.

"What are some of these ways?" Clarissa asked.

Adrian's mind was immediately swamped. He tried to banish images of all the ways he could make love to her, then cleared his throat and said, "Well, there are the ones I just mentioned; then there is one where I would be sitting up with you on my lap, or—"

"Really?" Clarissa interrupted. "How would that be done?"
             
•

Adrian stared at her. His thoughts were a muddle, part of him wanting to just get the deed done here and now and ensure she would have to marry him, and the other part arguing that that was no way to get a wife, and that she deserved better than the discomfort of the carriage for her first time. Not to mention, there was the respect issue. It showed little respect to take a woman in a moving carriage.