Love Is Blind (9 page)

Once it had disappeared into the green blur of the park, Clarissa smiled in the general direction of Lord
Mowbray
. She thought he might be smiling back. At least, she believed she heard a smile in his voice as he said, "I thought you might enjoy walking for a bit, rather than getting into my carriage."
                        

When Clarissa's eyes widened in surprise, he added, "I did not think you would be interested in parading about, looking at the other gentry. Besides, even if you did, I fear I got rid of my phaeton some time back and had only this closed carriage to hand."

"Oh." Clarissa hesitated a moment, then said, 'You are right in assuming that I am not interested in looking at the other gentry, as seems to be the rage. Not that I could see them anyway," she added with a wry smile. "Still, it does seem less likely that we should be noticed and recognized in the carriage, and should my stepmother hear that—"

"But we wear our masks," Adrian interrupted quickly. "No one shall know who we are."

Clarissa's hand rose self-consciously to the mask her stepmother had insisted she don ere allowing her to leave with Lord
Greville
. It was all the rage to ride

about in a mask this season, and whatever was the rage, her stepmother insisted she do. 'You do not think my clumsiness will give us away?"

Adrian drew her hand over his arm, his voice filled with gentle amusement. "You shall not be clumsy, Lady Clarissa. I shall see to that."

She found herself relaxing at his assurance, and smiled cheerfully as he led her along what she presumed to be a path, but was to her a brown blur. They moved along in companionable silence, but after a time, Clarissa suddenly cocked her ear. "Is that water I hear, my lord?"

Adrian peered around.

"I do not think.. ." he began, then paused briefly before saying, "It has been a long while since I have been here, but I do seem to recall that these gardens have many cascades and fountains. You must be hearing one of those."

Clarissa felt his gaze shift to her, and sensed his smile as he said approvingly, 'You have excellent hearing, my lady. I cannot hear it myself, but—as I recall now—there is a fountain near here."

Moments later he spied the fountain and led her to it. They stood at its edge, suddenly oddly uncomfortable.

Clarissa pretended to peer at the green smear of water before her, but her mind was wholly on Adrian. She was agonizingly aware of his presence, and even more aware of the silence that seemed to hang between them like a pall. It was most discomfiting. They had seemed to get along so well at the ball where they met, yet now that they were alone, she could not think of a thing to say. Clarissa was racking her mind when he suddenly gave a small laugh.

"What is it?" she asked, raising her face curiously.

"Nothing," Adrian said, then added, "I was just thinking that I am an idiot. I have been standing here in a panic, searching my mind desperately for some item of conversation to speak on. But it appears that I am a man who has lost all capacity for speech."

Before she could protest, Adrian added, "Around Lady Clarissa, I am as nervous as a lad."

"I am nervous also," Clarissa admitted quietly. "And I do not understand how it should be so. We seemed to have no trouble the first two times we met."

"Nay, we did not," Adrian agreed, then turned her away from the water and said, "Fortunately, I am not a complete idiot, and I did bring something to distract us." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a dark square, then took her hand and filled it.

"A book?" Clarissa asked with surprise.
                  
,

'Yes."

Aware that he was leading her away from the water, she asked, "Where are we going?"

"There is a small bower just a short distance away that offers some shade. I thought we might partake of it while I read to you."

'You are going to read to me?" Clarissa asked with interest.

"I recalled your saying that—above all things—what you most missed without your spectacles was being able to read. And so I thought to read to you," Adrian explained. "It will not be the same, I know, as being able to read for yourself, but hopefully it will ease your distress somewhat."

"Oh, I am sure it will," Clarissa said quickly, touched that he was so thoughtful, and grateful that he had provided a way for them to avoid conversation until they were both less nervous.

"What book did you bring with you?" she asked curiously as Adrian urged her to settle on a bench in a cool shady spot.

"Ah, well, I brought 'The Rape of the Lock' by—"

"Alexander Pope."

"Aye," he agreed, obviously surprised that she knew the text. "Do you like him?"

Clarissa smiled and nodded, and Adrian audibly sighed. "Well then, I shall begin."

Chapter
Six

"Devil take you, cousin! Where have you got to?"

Clarissa blinked in surprise and glanced around at the irritated comment. She recognized
Greville's
voice even as Adrian's deep, sonorous reading stumbled to a halt; then Reginald's chartreuse figure stumbled into view.

"There you are! Dear Lord, I have been looking for you these past fifteen minutes. I shall be late returning Clarissa. We were to be gone only an hour."

"Has it been an hour already?" Clarissa asked with disappointment. She'd been quietly enjoying listening to Adrian read.

"She was allowed out for only an hour?" Adrian asked with a grimace. He closed the book. "Why such a paltry length of time?"

"How long did you think we'd be expected to be gone?" Reginald asked dryly, as Adrian stood and took

Clarissa's hand to help her rise. "We were only going out for a ride."

'Yes, of course," Adrian said with a sigh.

"What's that there?" Reginald asked. "Is that Pope?"

"Aye. Clarissa has missed reading since being deprived of her spectacles, so I thought to read to her," Adrian admitted. He looked embarrassed.

Greville
grunted at the thoughtful gesture, but made no comment that might upset either of them. Instead, he turned back the way he'd come. "Let's be off. My carriage awaits, and I can hardly wait to get home and out of this ridiculous coat."

Adrian drew Clarissa's hand through his arm to follow.

"Thank you," she murmured as they followed
Greville
. 'You have a lovely voice, and it was the perfect choice of book. I quite enjoyed your reading."

Adrian shrugged the compliment away. "Aye, well, I had meant to read for only a bit, then to end in conversation. I thought we would have more time."

He fell silent as he herded her around some obstacle—a fallen, ancient tree trunk, Clarissa thought—then he continued, "Which party shall you be attending tonight?"

"The
Devereaux
."

"I
shall be sure to see you there then."

"Oh, yes ... well. .." Irritation filled her. 'You might as well give up that idea. Lydia has already stated that, should you appear at another party we attend, she shan't leave me alone for a moment. I think she suspects I was with you in the gardens at
Prudhomme's
. I fear I am a very poor liar. I am sorry."

"Do not be sorry, and do not apologize. I shall arrange something."

Before Clarissa could ask what he meant, he squeezed her hand gently, then lifted her to sit in the phaeton.

"Until tonight," he whispered.

"Lady
Crambray
. How delighted we are that you could come!"

Clarissa blinked away the boredom that had glazed her eyes and glanced to the pale blue and peach-colored blurs that had appeared beside Lydia. It would be unkind to say she was stunned that someone besides Lady
Havard
and Lady
Achard
would claim pleasure in seeing her stepmother, but as those two were usually the only people who spoke to Lydia, Clarissa was rather stunned to hear their hostess and another woman greet her stepmother so.

Lydia seemed rather stunned herself, Clarissa noted, for her stepmother stumbled over her tongue in her effort to reply. "L-Lady D-
Devereaux
and L-Lady
Mowbray
. Good evening. How nice to see you. We were most happy to attend, most happy indeed. Were we not, Clarissa?"

Clarissa murmured an agreement, but her attention was on the blue blur that was surely Lady
Mowbray
. She knew their hostess was wearing pale peach tonight, so that meant the lady in blue was Adrian's mother.

"And this must be the lovely Clarissa." Lady
Mowbray
moved closer, and Clarissa suspected she was smiling widely. "I've heard a great deal about you, my dear—from both my son and my nephew Reginald."

"Reginald
Greville
is your nephew?" Lydia asked with interest, nicely sidestepping any comment on Adrian. Her stepmother might not want Clarissa near

Mowbray
, but she wasn't stupid enough to openly snub him or his family. The
Montforts
had a great deal of influence in society—at least Isabel Montfort, Lady
Mowbray
, did. Hence Lydia had been reduced to trying to avoid Adrian rather than flat-out telling him to stay away.

"Yes, he is." Lady
Mowbray
didn't miss the lack of comment on her son. At least, Clarissa suspected that was the reason behind the steel in her voice.

"Well, he seems a charming young man," Lydia went on happily, apparently ignorant of her misstep. "He took Clarissa out for a ride in the park the other day."

"So I heard," Lady
Mowbray
said, and now there was amusement in her voice. Clarissa got the distinct impression that Lady
Mowbray
knew that Reginald had only taken her to her son. Still, the lady's next words startled her. "In fact, Reginald rhapsodized on so about her, my niece—his sister—was hoping to meet her."

"Oh, well, that would be lovely," Lydia gushed. "Clarissa needs to make friends here in London. It would be good for her."

Clarissa bit her lip, quite sure her stepmother was picturing the boost to their social circle should they be befriended by Reginald's sister. Mary
Greville
was considered a diamond of the first water. Knowing her could elevate anyone.

"Good, good," Lady
Mowbray
said. "Then you will not mind if I steal her away for a bit while you help Lady
Devereaux
."

"Steal her away?" Lydia asked with alarm. Clarissa grimaced, knowing her stepmother was imagining her stumbling, tripping, or bumping into something and blowing this opportunity.

'Yes. Mary turned her ankle today and is forced to

rest and keep her foot elevated, so, you see, she cannot come to Clarissa—I shall have to take Clarissa to Mary. It will be fine," Lady
Mowbray
announced gaily, urging Clarissa to her feet. "The girls will have a lovely time while you are helping Lady
Devereaux
."

Apparently, Lydia hadn't caught that comment the first time. Now she did, and Clarissa could hear the uncertainty in her voice as she asked, "Help Lady
Devereaux
?"

'Yes," Lady
Devereaux
cooed. "I was told you have the most incredible taste in ..."

Clarissa didn't hear the rest. Lady
Mowbray
was urging her insistently away from the pair, and hurrying her toward the doors leading into the hall. She went silently, because she didn't have a clue what to say. Clarissa didn't know Lady
Mowbray
, and wasn't all that certain what was happening. Getting away from Lydia's clutches was a difficult thing at the best of times. At least, it had been since the evening her stepmother had caught her in the gardens after returning from her walk with Adrian. Yet, this had been handled so skillfully.... It had to have been planned, she thought, and wondered why exactly it had been orchestrated, and where Lady
Mowbray
was really leading her.

"Here we are," Adrian's mother announced cheerfully, opening a door off the hallway and leading her inside.

Clarissa stepped into the room and paused, her gaze shifting around the blurs that might have comprised a salon. Then her gaze landed on a pale pink confection in a chair by the fire, and she smiled uncertainly.

"This is Mary," Lady
Mowbray
announced, closing the door. "Mary, this is Lady Clarissa
Crambray
."

"Hello, Clarissa. It is lovely to meet you."

Clarissa smiled uncertainly, bewildered to find that this had indeed been about introducing her to Reginald's sister. Clearing her throat, she murmured, "I'm sorry to hear about your ankle."

"Oh, my ankle is fine," Mary said cheerfully. "I just have to pretend I twisted it tonight. By morning it will have made a miraculous recovery."

Clarissa stared, wishing she could see the expressions of the two women. She'd never realized how important expression was in communication until she'd lost her spectacles, and her eyesight with them.

Apparently her uncertainty showed, for Lady
Mowbray
chuckled softly and moved to her side. "Mary's ailment was invented shortly before we left for the ball, when Adrian asked for my help in getting you away from your stepmother. He seemed to think she would be difficult about his speaking with you."