you, Amelia dear. She’s been so good taking you out to parties when my health won’t hold up.’
Lady Maria gathered together her post. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I have one of my heads. Clarrie, do give my regards to your Aunt Constance, I know you’ll do all that is right.’ And with that, she left for the sanctity of her bedchamber with its carefully drawn blinds, and the ministering of her dear, faithful maid.
‘Are you going to see Aunt Constance, then? Rather you than me, I can’t abide her sermonising. I’m off for a walk in the park with Chloe.’ Looking back at her sister, still seated at the table, Amelia laughed once more. ‘Clarrie do stop looking so serious. I know what I’m doing, and that should be enough for you. You should get out more yourself, you know. Even at your age, your looks are more than passable, as long as you don’t stand too close to me. I could find you someone suitable.’
‘Thank you, Amelia,’ Clarissa responded drily, ‘but I’m quite content as I am.’
The visit to her aunt only confirmed Clarissa’s worst fears. Lady Constance Denby lived semi-retired from society, but this didn’t stop her keeping close tabs on the latest on dits, and today one of them concerned Amelia.
‘Well, my dear, I am sorry to have to tell you that your sister is raising a few eyebrows.’
They were settled in Lady Constance’s breakfast room, taking morning coffee. Clarissa loved this room, with its beautifully polished rosewood tables, the cabinets crammed with her aunt’s collection of delicate porcelain. The loud ticking of the clock on the mantel, and the scent from the apple wood burning in the hearth were deeply comforting.
Her aunt had been widowed very young—before Clarissa ever remembered an uncle—and, despite numerous offers, had never married again. Her beloved husband had been a rising star in the House of Lords, and Constance had remained faithful to his memory in retaining her widowed status, as well as her avid interest in current affairs. Lady Constance was a beautiful woman, with a little of Clarissa’s colouring, although the vivid auburn of her hair had faded now, and was confined beneath her habitual widow’s cap. She had been formidable, too, in her brief time as a political hostess, although that, also, had been given up upon the occasion of her husband’s death. Having shared something so special, she had told Clarissa once, even for so brief a time, had been enough.
Tact, and a natural reticence, prevented Lady Constance, over the years, from being too critical of Clarissa’s mother and sister. She was all too aware of how badly her own family had treated them when James, her dear brother, had died. She found Maria tedious, and Amelia wilful, but she was very fond of Clarissa, and hated not being able to do more for her than provide this sanctuary whenever her niece paid her a call.
And today the talk would be upsetting—but that couldn’t be helped. ‘I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Letitia Marlborough, Kit Rasenby’s sister, is one of my friends. A flighty thing before she was married and produced that brood of hers, but still, I’ve known her for ever, and keep on good terms with her.’ Lady Constance waited, but Clarissa had no comment to make.
‘Well, Letitia has it on the best of authority that your sister is Kit Rasenby’s latest flirt. In fact, she believes he intends to set her up as his mistress.’
Lady Constance sipped her coffee, and considered Clarissa’s reaction. No surprise there, only worry. So, there was truth in it. Well, she needed to warn Clarissa in plain language. Amelia was heading for a fall, and Lady Constance could only do her best to ensure that Clarissa was not to be tainted by association. Amelia would go to the bad, she was sure of it. But Clarissa deserved better.
‘I take it that this comes as no surprise to you, Clarissa dear? Has Amelia mentioned Lord Rasenby then?’
‘She has, Aunt. As a—an admirer.’
Lady Constance gave a bark of laughter at this. ‘Is that what she called him? Your sister, my dear, seems determined to take the road to ruin. And if you don’t take me up on my offer to come and live here, she’ll take you with her.’
‘Aunt, please, let us not discuss this again at present. I am overwhelmed at the generosity of your offer, indeed I am. But until Amelia is settled, and my mama with her, I can’t desert them.’ Green eyes pleaded for sympathy. ‘Aunt Constance, you do understand, don’t you?’
Clarissa was so very much like her papa when she looked up, that Lady Constance caught her breath for a second. Those huge eyes set in her heart-shaped face were all feminine, but the appeal, and the colouring, they were so like James. If only he had been of a stronger constitution—and a stronger character—then perhaps they wouldn’t be in this mess. But to have eloped with Maria, a mere nobody, when he should have made a good match! Well, it was done now, and James long dead. All she could do was protect his child from some of the harshness of the world.
But to do that, she had to save her from her sister and her mama. Lady Constance patted Clarissa’s hand reassuringly. She was four and twenty, but had seen so little of the world. ‘Of course I understand, my dear, you must know that you will always find a home here, no matter what.’
‘Thank you, Aunt Constance, that means a lot to me.’
‘But to return to the subject of Amelia, as unfortunately we must, I have to tell you, Clarissa, that I am very concerned.’ Lady Constance was brisk now. Straight talking was required, although she was loathe to do it. ‘The Earl of Rasenby’s reputation is extremely bad, you know.’
‘I am aware of Lord Rasenby’s reputation, ma’am, but surely he cannot be as bad as they say?’
‘Child, I know not what you have heard, but believe me, whatever it is, Kit’s behaviour is worse. He has been one of the ton for nigh on fifteen years, and master of a huge fortune for longer, his papa having unfortunately died when he was still at school. His papa, such a very dreadful man, broke his neck when he was thrown from his horse riding to the hounds. He was a bruising rider by all accounts, but they say he was in his cups at the time. Mind you, there was rarely a day when he was ever anything else. Hardly a role model for his only son. Although, to be fair, Kit seems to be rather more sober and certainly more discriminating than his father. But there is no getting away from it Clarissa, his tastes are still very, very low!’
With pursed lips, Lady Constance poured herself another cup of coffee. ‘I will not sully your ears with the details, there is no need for that. But this I will say. It is not just the usual, opera dancers and mistresses. He is wild. Too quick to quarrel and too slow to make up. If you ask me, he has too little to occupy him. I have often thought he could make a most excellent politician.’
Lady Constance paused to sip her coffee, gazing into the fireplace. It was her one regret, not having a son. Not for an instant would she have wished a Kit Rasenby on herself, but a child in the image of her dear husband would have been a precious gift. Still, it had not happened. And here was Clarissa, someone who did need her help and protection. Lady Constance brought her attention firmly back to the matter in hand. ‘I beg your pardon, Clarissa, we were talking of Kit Rasenby. Despite all I have said, he is still seen as a good catch by some. Yet he has avoided matrimony until now, and is like to continue to do so. Letitia tells me he is happy for Jeremy, her son, to inherit, and cares naught for the line continuing from him. It is perhaps as well.’
Lady Constance paused, once again assessing the effect on her niece. Clarissa was looking thoughtful rather than shocked.
‘Aunt, I am aware of much of what you have told me, although I do truly find it hard to believe that anyone could
