Love Is Blind (22 page)

"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 think 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.

Adrian must have noticed her reticence, for he pulled back from the kiss and peered at her with a frown of concern. Clarissa forced a smile in an effort to try to reassure him; then everyone seemed to move at once. There were scrolls to sign and congratulations

given, and then she found herself bundled into a carriage and heading to her home. Her
father's
home, she corrected herself. It was no longer her home. From now on, her home was with Adrian.

"Shall we go?"

Clarissa glanced up sharply from the drink she'd been clenching. She knew her eyes were wide with alarm. This was the moment she'd been dreading since arriving at her father's for the wedding celebration.

Biting her lip, Clarissa turned to glance around the crowded room. Surprisingly enough, while she'd been shunned by nearly everyone since her arrival in London, the wedding party had turned out to be a large one. There were, of course, Lady
Mowbray
and Adrian's cousins, Mary and Reginald, as well as her own father and stepmother, but then there were also Lord and Lady
Havard
, Lord and Lady
Achard
, Lord
Prudhomme
and his mother, and several people whose voices she recognized but whom she wouldn't know on the street if she could see them, because she'd never glimpsed them close enough to make them out. Aware that she had yet to answer Adrian's question, Clarissa swallowed, tried for a cheerful smile ... and failed miserably. Her voice was a mere squeak when she asked, "So soon?"

She thought she saw Adrian's eyebrows rise, but his

voice was quiet as he said, "
'Tis
quite late, Clarissa.

Searing midnight."

She knew that wasn't late for a ball, but this wasn't a

simple ball. It was their wedding party. Still, she tried

desperately: 'Yes, but everyone is still here. Should we

not stay until the last guest leaves? After all, the party is

for us."

"Clarissa," Adrian said patiently. "It is tradition that the bride and groom leave first. Everyone is waiting for us to go."

"Oh, I see." Unable to think of any way to further delay the departure, Clarissa
reluctandy
put her drink down. "I should collect my things."