A Vow For An Heiress. Helen Dickson

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this marriage to the Earl of Ashurst. What can be done, Clarissa? Grandmother is adamant that the two of you will wed.’

      ‘But I don’t want to marry him,’ Clarissa cried tearfully. ‘He is a stranger to me.’

      ‘You will soon get to know him.’

      ‘But I don’t want to get to know him—not now. Not ever. I cannot go through with it. I love Andrew. I love him so much it hurts. I have never known such love—such sweetness...’

      Rosa listened as her sister seemed to shine, her eyes brightly lit with adoration as she continued to speak of her love, her passion for Andrew. ‘Then, feeling as you do, you must speak to Grandmother.’

      ‘I’ve tried, but she refuses to listen. I cannot think of a life without Andrew. I cannot live without him,’ she murmured despairingly.

      Rosa sighed. Never had she seen Clarissa in such a state. Alarmed by this, she sat on the bed. Feeling a great need to protect her, she took her hand and drew her down beside her. ‘Listen to me, Clarissa. She cannot force you to marry the Earl. You are twenty-one. You have a perfect right to decide who you will and will not marry. You must make her understand that you are your own mistress now. How does Andrew feel about all this?’

      ‘He loves me as I love him. B-but he will not marry me without Grandmother’s blessing.’

      Rosa did not need convincing. Andrew’s adoration and the gallantry he showed towards Clarissa when they were together were plain for all to see, but because his family were planters in a small way, Grandmother had refused to encourage the relationship and had departed London as soon as a meeting had taken place between the Earl of Ashurst and Clarissa.

      ‘What is he like—the Earl?’

      ‘To be quite honest we were together no more than a few minutes. He had another engagement and his mind seemed to be elsewhere. Oh, he is handsome and quite charming—in fact, I am certain there is not a woman in the whole of England who would not welcome a rendezvous with him. His lineage is impeccable and he has distinguished himself in India...’

      ‘But?’

      ‘He is not for me.’ Clarissa looked at her sister imploringly. ‘In truth, he is so—so excessively male and formidable. He radiates a force and vitality that scares me to death. I cannot possibly marry such a man.’ Sighing deeply, she looked down at her hands in her lap. ‘How foolish you must think me. You, who have never been afraid of anything or anyone in your entire life.’

      Rosa sighed, for Clarissa spoke the truth. Clarissa was quiet and self-effacing, while she was too outspoken and never afraid to voice her own opinions, of which she had many—from any subject that was topical at the time to slavery, which had been a constant irritant to her father since the smooth running of the plantation depended on slave labour. He was forever chastising her, telling her to stop going on about matters which did not concern her and of which she knew nothing.

      Should Clarissa marry the Earl of Ashurst, not only would he have sweet and gentle Clarissa to run his home, grace his table and warm his bed, but he would be in possession of a large portion of her father’s considerable assets to repair his fractured estate. Their grandmother was right in one respect. With such an inheritance they would become prey to every fortune hunter in London. Better they were settled in good marriages.

      ‘I wish I could think of something comforting to say that would alleviate your fears, Clarissa, but do not be too downhearted,’ she said gently. ‘Who knows what the future holds? Why, if the love between yourself and Andrew is as deeply committed as you say it is, then when Grandmother realises this and sees that you will be happy with no other, then maybe she will relent. When Father gave Grandmother control over us he was only doing what he considered best. I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to be unhappy. She wants to make quite sure we are settled and everything taken care of before—before she...’

      Something in Rosa’s faltering tone caused Clarissa to look at her sharply. ‘Do you think she is very ill, Rosa?’

      Rosa nodded. ‘There is no denying that there is a frailty about her and I noted when we were in London that there are times when she appears to suffer breathlessness and a great deal of discomfort.’

      ‘She does tire easily.’

      ‘But you must not let that stop you from telling her how you feel—that you cannot marry the Earl of Ashurst.’

      ‘I know I should feel honoured—and I am—but I would give all my prospects to anyone who would take them from me...simply to marry Andrew without the kind of wealth we have.’

      ‘The Earl does not have our wealth, but marriage to you would change all that,’ Rosa retorted coldly, feeling some resentment towards the Earl of Ashurst. What manner of man was it that would take a wife merely to pay off debts incurred by his cousin and to repair the neglect to his estate? She could feel nothing but contempt for a man who would marry a woman for the size of her dowry rather than for the woman herself. And who was to know that he wouldn’t do the same as his erstwhile cousin and squander his newfound fortune?

      Lying in her bed and thinking about Clarissa, Rosa was deeply unsettled by her concern for her sister. What was to be done? If only she could find a way to circumvent her grandmother. There must be some way to stop Clarissa marrying a man not of her choosing. The more she thought about it a plan began forming in her mind, a plan so shocking she feared to enlarge on it. It caused her heart to pound so hard she could scarcely breathe, for it was a plan no gently bred young woman would dare think of, let alone consider.

      Yet the more she thought about it the more she fixed her mind on the plan and, with a cold logic, let it grow until she could think of nothing else. At one stroke she had presented herself with an answer to Clarissa’s problem.

      She would marry the Earl of Ashurst instead of Clarissa.

      To contemplate marrying a man she had never even met surprised her—indeed, it sent a chill down her spine, but it did not shock her. If there was a way of helping Clarissa, then she would do everything in her power to do so. Clarissa said the Earl was handsome—at least he wasn’t in his dotage so she would have that to be thankful for. However, the biggest obstacle was her grandmother, but she need know nothing about what she was planning until she had been to Ashurst Park. She would take a closer look at the Earl of Ashurst’s noble pile to give her an insight into the house and its owner, to see what awaited her if she went ahead with her plan.

      After breakfast two days later, relieved that her grandmother was still in bed—she never left her bed before mid-morning—without a word to Clarissa of what she was to do, she left the house. She was dressed in her best riding habit. The colour was dark blue, the jacket cut tight in at the waist, to slope away at the sides, the ensemble set off by a jaunty feather-trimmed hat. There was no sign that she had spent a sleepless night wrestling with the wild plan she had conceived. But her delicate jaw was set with determination.

      Feeling deeply sad for Clarissa, she was prepared to sacrifice herself. So what did it matter that the Earl of Ashurst was a stranger to her? Whoever she married would not possess the qualities Simon had. She would never forget what had happened to Simon, but she must put it behind her if she was to forge a new life for herself here in England. It was important to her that she rediscover something within herself, something she had lost the day he had drowned. She would love to fulfil her desire to do something more worthwhile with her life, for she would dearly like to become involved with Aunt Clara’s charities and help underprivileged children, but since that was to be denied her then she was pretty

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