Love Is Blind (28 page)

Both were perfectly valid arguments, Adrian told himself as he carried more brandy back to his chair. It was just too bad he knew the real reason he didn't want her to have spectacles.

Sighing, he flopped into his chair once more and stared into the depths of his drink, mulling over the unfairness of life. He had found the perfect woman, someone he liked, desired, and enjoyed spending time with. Someone who made him laugh and—in his opinion—made him a nicer, softer person. Clarissa was also not repulsed by the very sight of him. But, he feared, that was only because she could not see him. While her presence made him more patient and kinder to others, it also made him cruel to her, the one person he loved. For surely it was cruel to leave her without sight when she could have it, to rob her of her ability to read and really experience and enjoy life, all for his own selfish reasons.

Sighing, Adrian set his full brandy glass on the table and stood with resignation. He would have to arrange for Clarissa to have spectacles. He would have to give up his own chance of happiness to ensure hers.

Shaking his head, Adrian left the salon and started

of book that could be helpful, but when she'd sneaked down to raid the
Mowbray
library, she hadn't had much time to look.

Yes, Clarissa had asked Lucy if
Mowbray
had a library, and where it was situated, while they were walking to her new room. And when Lucy had finished showing her around her chambers and then slipped below to order a bath, Clarissa had popped her spectacles on and followed. This was the first likely prospect she'd come across in the few moments she'd allowed herself, and, afraid of getting caught, she'd hurried back upstairs. She had managed to regain the room and hide the book under her pillow just before Lucy reentered.

The woman helped her undress and took down her hair while the bathwater was carried in. Clarissa had then dismissed her, assuring the girl she would prefer to bathe unattended. Once the maid was gone, Clarissa had retrieved her spectacles and book and sunk into the tub to read.

Clarissa turned another page and continued on with the story, marveling that it had been written by someone named Maria de
Zayas
. A woman! That was still a rarity in society, and this book had been written a good many years ago. As it turned out, it really wasn't very helpful in giving her ideas on ways to please her husband as yet, but it was interesting for all that, and Clarissa read it with pleasure. She had been parched for a glimpse of the written word these last weeks, and she was now soaking it up like a flower did rain after a long drought.

Clarissa was in the process of turning the page when she heard the telltale sound of the doorknob turning. Alarm racing through her, she snatched the

spectacles off her face and pressed the book and spectacles flat against her chest as she glanced over her shoulder toward the door. Her mouth fell open to tell Lucy that she really didn't wish to be disturbed when she recognized the dark hair and much larger shape of her husband.

Panic a living thing in her chest, Clarissa didn't even think, but she dropped her hand with the book and spectacles down into the water. She hid the condemning items under one leg, then racked her brain for what to do next.

"How is your bath?" Adrian asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice as he approached.

Clarissa's mouth opened and closed, any answer evading her as she sought some way to keep him from coming all the way to the tub. If he came that far, he would no doubt feel a need to help her bathe; then that help would turn to hindrance as he kissed and caressed her, and then he would either be in the tub with her, or scooping her out of it. Either way the book would be revealed.

The only answer seemed to be to keep him from
ap-proaching
the tub. To manage that feat, Clarissa did the first thing she could think of. Adrian was halfway across the room when she suddenly stood up out of the water.

As she'd hoped, his footsteps stopped, and he appeared simply to be gaping at her openmouthed.
Wa
-an down off her body to splash back into the tub.
ssa
could feel his hot gaze moving over her naked flesh, and knew she was blushing, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Before her husband could regain his wits, she stepped out of the tub and crossed the small amount

of space between them. Clarissa didn't say a word; she didn't even do anything but walk to him. The moment she was within range, Adrian reached for her and drew her into his arms. His mouth covered hers and his hands roved over her, and then he turned while still kissing her and maneuvered her to the bed.

As her legs backed against the mattress, Adrian broke their kiss and murmured, "I thought you might be too tired after the journey."

Smiling, Clarissa pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, then dropped to sit on the side of the bed and reached for the fastening of his breeches.

"I suspect I will never be too tired for you, my husband," Clarissa assured him. As she helped him shed his clothes, she told herself not to forget to retrieve the book and her spectacles from the tub at the first opportunity... which had best be before anyone went near it.

Chapter Fifteen

"Are you sure you would not rather—"

"Nay," Clarissa interrupted Kibble quickly, then forced herself to regain patience and managed a smile. "I would really rather just lie down for a little while. A short nap is what I desire."

"You are not sickening, are you, my lady?" the
buder
asked with concern.

Clarissa managed not to scowl. Honestly, the
Mowbray
staff worried like a bunch of old ladies—even the
voung
male members of the staff. One or the other, and sometimes several at once, had been trailing her at all times during the last four days. And, did she try to slip away to her room for a moment's privacy, they became quite distressed.

"I
am fine," she insisted firmly. "It is just that I have been getting little sleep of late and wish for a nap."

"I
see." Kibble frowned. "Well, if you are not ailing. . ."

"I am not ailing. Please be sure no one disturbs me. Tell Joan I will not need her." She had reached her door, the butler following her the whole way and one of the footmen close behind him. Clarissa forced a smile for their benefit, then escaped into her room and firmly closed them out. She then leaned against the door with a sigh.

Good lord,
Clarissa thought with exasperation; then she removed the library book from the folds of her skirts where she'd been hiding it, and tossed it on the bed. Giving her head a shake, she slid her hand through the small slit in the side of her skirt to find the pocket that hung from her waist. Clarissa retrieved the bag, took her spectacles out, and popped them onto her nose to survey the chamber. There was one chair. It stood before her dressing table. Determination coursing through her, she moved to drag it over to the door to prop it under the doorknob.

Satisfied that no one would be able to slip in and surprise her from that direction, Clarissa turned to contemplate the door that led into Adrian's room. There was no chair for that door, and for a moment she considered just leaving it as it was, but the fear of Adrian coming in and catching her in her ugly spectacles made her sigh.

Without a chair to prop against this second door, she was forced to resort to a larger and bulkier piece of furniture. The dresser was the closest item. Moving to its side, Clarissa bent to the task of pushing the heavy wooden item in front of the door, wincing at the squeal of wood on wood as she forced it across the hardwood floor. Muttering under her breath, Clarissa redoubled her efforts, hoping that speed would make up for the loud sound.

"My lady?" Kibble's voice came muffled through her bedroom door, sounding anxious. "Is all well?"

Pausing with the dresser half in place, Clarissa rolled her eyes. "Yes, Kibble, I am fine."

"I thought I heard an odd sound, like something heavy being moved," the man said. She could hear the disapproval in his voice.

Clarissa blew a stray strand of hair out of her face and said, 'Yes, I was just moving something. Making the room my own."

There was a long silence, and Clarissa was beginning to hope he'd accepted that answer and gone away when he said, "Do you think you might open the door for a moment? Just so that I can be assured that you are all right?"

Clarissa groaned under her breath, then moved to the door to the hall. She removed the chair from in front of it, took off her spectacles and hid them in the folds of her skirt, then opened the door. "See? I am fine."

Kibble slowly looked her over, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as if he feared she might not be telling the truth; then his gaze slid past her to survey the room.

Clarissa bit her lip, hoping against hope that he wouldn't notice the dresser .. . but of course he did.

"You have blocked off the entrance to his lordship's room!" The
buder
sounded as startled as he should be by such an occurrence.

"Yes, I did," Clarissa said quietly. "It is only a temporary arrangement, Kibble. I wish for a few moments of rest, just a little privacy, and thought to ensure that no one troubles me."

Kibble considered her silently, then glanced around the room again. She was close enough to see his mind

working behind those fiercely intelligent eyes, and found herself growing nervous. When his gaze suddenly paused and narrowed on something in the room, Clarissa couldn't resist turning to see what he'd found. Of course, she couldn't see a thing without her spectacles, just blurry shapes.

"There is a book on your bed," Kibble announced, and Clarissa felt her heart sink. She'd forgotten all about the book she'd tossed on the bed moments earlier. Trying to keep her expression bland, she turned back to the man.

"Is there? Perhaps Joan left it here."

"No doubt," he said agreeably, then added, "Shall I take it back to the library so that it is not in your way?"

"No, 'tis fine," Clarissa said quickly, then added, "
'Tis
just a book. I shall put it on the bedside table and she can collect it later."

"She may wish to read it while you are resting," he pointed out. "After all, you said she was to take the afternoon off."

Clarissa ground her teeth as she saw her opportunity to spend a few quiet moments reading slipping away. Feverishly trying to come up with a way to keep the book, she tilted her head and listened when someone called out from the main floor.

Kibble turned to glance up the hall, then excused himself and moved to the head of the stairs. Peering down at the entry below, he asked, "What is it?"

Clarissa had found that her hearing had improved since her spectacles were taken away. It was as if her body were trying to make up for the loss of one sense by increasing others. She heard well enough that she caught Frederick's answer that a carriage was approaching up the drive.

Kibble unintentionally verified what she'd heard, glancing back her way and saying, "Excuse me, my lady. It would appear we have company." Clarissa then watched his blurry image disappear down the stairs.

Closing the door behind him, she glanced at her curtained windows. Unexpected guests? Who could it be? she wondered. Popping her spectacles on, she moved to the window to peer curiously down at the front of the house.

There was indeed a carriage making its way up the drive, but it wasn't until it had almost reached the front of the house that she recognized the crest on the side. Drawing a sharp breath, Clarissa turned and hurried to the door. She was opening it before she recalled her spectacles. Snatching them off her face, she tucked them back into her pocket and made her way quickly to the stairs. Those she made her way down very carefully, one hand tight on the banister as she went. She'd learned her lesson the hard way, what with her tumble down the stairs in London, and had no desire to repeat the action.

Kibble stood in the open front door, surveying the carriage as the first passenger disembarked. As she reached his side, Clarissa could see the suspicious scowl on his face. She realized he hadn't a clue who it was. To clear up the problem, she launched herself past the butler saying, "Daddy! We were not expecting you so soon." Her father turned and caught her up in a bear hug, and Clarissa heard Kibble begin to shout orders to prepare rooms and warn Cook there would be guests for dinner.

"How is my girl?" Lord
Crambray
asked, letting her go and giving her the once-over. 'You look healthy and happy."

"I
am." Clarissa smiled at him widely, then said, "But we did not expect you until the end of the week. Is anything wrong?"

"No, no," he assured her. "I just finished my business sooner than expected and thought I would spend the extra time visiting you and your new husband. Where is he, by the way?" Her father glanced around inquisitively.

"Adrian rode out to check on a paddock that needs repair," Clarissa explained, linking their arms. "He should be back soon."

Clarissa caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to see the blurry shape of a woman in a gown in the doorway of the carriage. Ly-
dia
had come as well, she realized, and she retrieved her arm at once. "I am sorry. Here I am talking away and Lydia is still waiting to disembark."