A Fraudulent Betrothal Read online

  He knew this was madness, to kiss the girl so passionately out in the open, no more than a few hundred yards from their friends. To kiss the girl at all! But he too was caught in the web of desire, and so he drew her closer, glorying in the way her supple curves fitted so close against his own hard body. His lips bore down harder and he crushed her lithe form against him.

  Even in the midst of such heartfelt passion, Clarissa’s heart missed a beat. She’d begun to suspect, but now she knew it for the truth. It was Clarissa he loved, not Marianne! However briefly, she’d reached the heights of paradise, before reality returned with a rush. As it did!

  With a cry of horror, she broke away from his embrace. She’d given in to passion and her own selfish desires. She’d betrayed her sister! She turned and ran.

  ‘Marianne.’ Caroline Burnett caught the girl as she rushed towards the barge. ‘My dear, you’re crying.’

  ‘No.’ Clarissa tried to deny it, but to her dismay she tasted the salty tang where one wet tear slid down her cheek and ended up in the corner of her mouth. ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘no one must know.’

  ‘So it was Richard,’ his sister declared. ‘He couldn’t wait. Just like all the other gentlemen! They never can, my dear,’ and she held her young friend close, stroking her hair and calming her nerves.

  ‘No, it wasn’t his fault,’ Clarissa admitted, facing up to what she’d done. ‘He must never realize.’ Oh God, if Leighton should ever realize?

  ‘Never realize?’ Caroline fought to reconcile the words with the weeping girl in her arms. ‘Do you mean to tell me you responded?’

  ‘I shouldn’t have.’ Clarissa sank her head deeper into the comfort of her new friend’s bosom.

  ‘Of course you should,’ Caroline laughed. Then she coloured swiftly. ‘Well, perhaps not prior to your betrothal, but I can assure you that once you’re safely married, you’ll be happy to respond to all his advances.’

  ‘You’re very kind.’ Clarissa stood tall and began to dry her eyes. She had a role to perform and she intended to continue playing it. Richard had captured her heart, but she knew she could never show it so passionately again. He belonged to Marianne, and she straight away resolved the role wouldn’t be allowed to last much longer, both for his sake, and for her own.

  Leighton eventually caught her alone while their friends were embarking on the sailing barge for the journey back to Westminster.

  ‘I must apologize for my behaviour,’ he began stiffly, with the oddest feeling he’d bungled the entire affair.

  ‘No need, Richard.’ Clarissa turned calm eyes on his own. ‘Your kisses were no more than I wanted from you.’ The truth was reflected in those vivid green orbs, and the viscount breathed a sigh of relief.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Clarissa Turns Detective

  Next morning Clarissa woke early, determined to dedicate herself to the search for her sister. Not only was her own heart in danger, but the date for Marianne’s formal betrothal to Lord Leighton was looming ever closer. Leighton, too, was increasingly becoming a factor in the arrangement. What with her undisguised preference for him, if they continued to meet he would surely spot the change when Marianne reappeared.

  ‘Aunt Eleanor.’ Clarissa began the interrogation once breakfast was over and the two of them were left alone. ‘We must speak further about Marianne’s disappearance. Do you have the note she left?’

  ‘In my writing desk, but you’ve already seen it once.’ Eleanor’s voice quavered. In all truth she’d hoped to see Clarissa content to continue the deception, but it was clear that for whatever reason the girl was even more determined to pursue her sister’s disappearance.

  ‘I’d like to look at it again, if you don’t mind?’

  ‘Well, no, of course not.’ No good would come of going after the girl, in her aunt’s opinion. Clearly the silly chit had left of her own accord, leaving them to clean up the mess she’d left behind, just as her mother had done all those years before. Nevertheless she could see just how worried Clarissa was for her sister and, despite quaking in her slippers when she thought of the possible repercussions, she led the girl into her private sitting-room.

  Clarissa had, of course, been in the room on previous occasions, but never seen the elegant writing desk opened. Eleanor removed a key from the top drawer and deftly opened a secret compartment hidden in its depths. She removed a somewhat soiled and dog-eared wafer, and handed it to her niece.

  ‘It came in this envelope?’ Clarissa turned a puzzled eye on her aunt. ‘I saw only the note itself before.’

  ‘That is what Sophie handed to us on the morning she left. Is there anything wrong with it?’

  ‘How did it get so dirty?’ the girl continued to question her aunt.

  ‘Perhaps … oh, I don’t know.’ Eleanor threw up her arms in despair. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘I believe so, Aunt.’ Clarissa stared at the wafer in her hand. ‘It’s like no other I’ve seen in the house. There are envelopes in Marianne’s – my room. It’s quite unlike those, and yet you would have expected her to have written the missive there, where she’d find privacy. Will I find any envelopes like this in Mr Markham’s study?’ She held it up.

  ‘No.’ Aunt Eleanor found herself struck by the same thought that bothered her niece. ‘The quality is very poor. Perhaps there are some like that in the servants’ quarters.’

  ‘Perhaps, but I don’t suppose Marianne would have fetched them, and neither would the envelope be so dog-eared if Sophie did so for her.’

  ‘What do you mean? It was in that condition when Sophie delivered it to us. If Marianne wrote it here, then, depend on it, she had the wafer from one of the servants.’

  ‘Having seen the state of this wafer, I’m inclined to believe that Marianne wrote the note elsewhere. Somewhere she didn’t command the use of quality stationery.’ Clarissa opened the wafer and drew out the note. The paper was cheap, but it was at least clean, though it didn’t match the envelope it had been taken from. ‘She would need to have it delivered in that case. Did any of your servants mention a note being delivered to Sophie?’

  ‘No, though I don’t suppose they’d have told me if they did. The mistress of the house can have little interest in her servants’ correspondence. Particularly a maidservant of her age.’

  ‘They would remember if she did, however. Sophie is not likely to receive such notes very often.’

  ‘I’ll ring for Downing. He can institute enquiries.’

  ‘I think not, Aunt.’ Clarissa held up a warning hand to stop her carrying out such an action. ‘It would only cause gossip amongst the servants and alert Sophie to our suspicions.’

  ‘Then what shall we do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Clarissa wrung her hands together. ‘If my reasoning is correct then Marianne didn’t pack her own portmanteau on the morning you missed her.’ The girl tried to follow her sister’s trail in logical steps. ‘If she were not here that morning, and you did tell me her bed hadn’t been slept in, then she must have disappeared on the previous day.’

  ‘She ate her luncheon with me. There was nothing in her manner then to suggest anything was wrong. Indeed, she was looking forward to the Farthingales’ ball. She particularly wanted to purchase some lace to decorate up one of her gowns, as I remember.’

  ‘She went out in the afternoon?’

  ‘Yes. To the Emporium, I believe.’

  ‘She would have taken Sophie?’

  ‘Of course. Even if Emily had gone with her, their maids would have accompanied them.’

  ‘Was Emily with her?’

  ‘I don’t know, my dear.’ Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. ‘I think we need to question Sophie more closely.’

  ‘No, Aunt.’ Clarissa made her views plain. ‘I’ve already interrogated her without success, but I don’t think she was telling me the truth, or not the full truth anyway. Does she know Marianne had a twin sister?’

  ‘Very likely. The two of them were closer than I shou
ld have liked. I often heard them giggling together while Marianne was getting dressed.’

  ‘Then she must know. She’s been suspicious of my role on more than one occasion. I think she thought me convinced of her innocence, but my questions will have alerted her, and I am more than ever sure that Marianne disappeared on that very afternoon.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I suspected she’d missed the Farthingales’ ball the moment you told me that neither you, nor her friends, had seen her there. You left early, but I dare swear her friends didn’t. It didn’t seem of any particular note when everyone was convinced she left this house of her own free will on the following morning. It would, however, be unlike my sister to miss the ball if she was able to attend.’

  ‘If she disappeared in the afternoon, then Sophie would have known what happened to her.’

  ‘Exactly! Marianne must have written the note from wherever she ended up that day, which Sophie then delivered to you with a suitable story to prevent suspicion falling upon herself.’

  ‘Marianne must have been kidnapped,’ Eleanor gasped, with a sudden stab of apprehension.

  ‘If so, there’s been no ransom request,’ noted Clarissa calmly. ‘Moreover, since everyone seems to concur in considering Sophie devoted to my sister, it’s unlikely she’d remain silent if her mistress were taken against her will. It’s still my belief that Marianne did indeed leave of her own accord, though for what reason, I can’t even begin to speculate.’

  ‘Perhaps she was injured, even killed. One hears so much about these dreadful gangs of Mohawks.’

  ‘If she were injured, then Sophie would have been the first to bring aid to her,’ Clarissa calmed her aunt’s fears. ‘If she were dead, then why not say so?’ She thought a moment, wondering if such a death could have implicated the maid. ‘No, it cannot be,’ she decided. ‘When I first arrived at your house Sophie truly did believe I was Marianne, of that I’m sure. She was surprised to see me, but not so shocked that I could have returned from the dead. I doubt whether Marianne would have ventured anywhere she might encounter Mohawks, in any case.’ Privately Clarissa doubted that her aunt actually knew what a Mohawk was, and indeed, she had no great idea herself.

  ‘If Sophie knows where Marianne is, then we must ask Downing to bring her to us,’ decided Aunt Eleanor finally.

  ‘No. She won’t talk unless she believes Marianne is truly in danger.’

  ‘She will if I send Edward down to Bow Street,’ declared Eleanor. ‘The Runners will soon convince her to speak, or have her clapped up in gaol.’

  ‘Which will precipitate exactly the sort of scandal you hoped to avoid in the first place.’ Clarissa saw the rejoinder had hit home and pressed her advantage. ‘If my reasoning is correct then Sophie knows exactly where my sister is to be found. If Marianne didn’t pack her own bags, then you can be sure Sophie did it for her. Marianne, whatever her circumstances, must need clothes to wear. When was Sophie’s last half day?’

  ‘That very morning.’ Eleanor had the answer off pat. ‘I remember it well. Once I’d read the note I had to invent the story of Marianne’s illness on the spot, and when Sophie requested a half day to visit her sick mother I could hardly refuse. With Marianne dispatched to the country to recuperate, there was no reason to deny the girl.’

  Clarissa nodded. Sophie would have packed suitable clothing for Marianne and very likely delivered them personally. Clarissa was quite satisfied in her own mind that she’d succeeded in unravelling what had happened, but why and where still remained a complete mystery.

  ‘Was Marianne unhappy?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course not,’ her aunt replied at once. ‘She loved the parties even more than you do.’

  ‘Something must have caused her to leave.’

  ‘Oh, well. I dare say Leighton didn’t help.’

  ‘Leighton! I can’t see her running away from him. They were to be betrothed.’ Clarissa dismissed this out of hand.

  ‘I don’t think her affections were that much engaged. It was a brilliant match, of course, for he is very rich and owns vast estates, but for all of that it was a marriage of convenience for them both.’ Eleanor stared at Clarissa almost challengingly. ‘I have thought recently that you were more suited to Lord Leighton than your sister. He has a decided partiality for you.’

  Clarissa chose to ignore the barb in her comment. ‘Marianne came to London to make such a match. To have caught the eye of Lord Leighton in her first season is hardly a reason for flight.’

  ‘I had thought that Leighton might have frightened her.’

  ‘So you told me before. I think it most unlikely.’ Following the events at Richmond she could feel the heat in her face and decided to leave the matter there for the time being. She intended to discover the reason behind her sister’s disappearance in the very near future, and that from Marianne herself.

  Sophie was due a further half day on the following afternoon, and Clarissa decided to follow her. Since her sister wasn’t likely to be doing her own washing, it was a fair assumption Sophie had been instructed to keep her supplied with clean linen and if her deductions were correct then the maid would lead her directly to her sister. This was information she had no intention of divulging to her aunt; that lady was only too likely to veto such a scheme and she couldn’t envisage anyone else taking on the task so successfully.

  Clarissa retired to the library and thought long and hard about what her aunt had told her. She knew from discussions with Emily which Emporium was Marianne’s favourite. If she and her maid had attended that establishment on the afternoon she disappeared then they wouldn’t have been walking, nor was she likely to have taken a public conveyance when the Markhams had their own vehicles in the mews behind their house.

  She’d visited the stable block once or twice since arriving in London, each time selecting a sturdy hack to ride. She wasn’t as fond of riding as Marianne, but had enjoyed the exercise nevertheless. If the coachman had been busy, as seemed more than likely, then one of the grooms would have driven Marianne and Sophie to the fashionable Emporium and she decided to act immediately.

  ‘Ah, Mr Harricot.’ She caught the man who ran their stables on his way up the yard.

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  ‘I wish a carriage to be made ready for me. A closed carriage. Send it around to the front as soon as you may. Oh,’ – she tried to make it sound as though she’d only just thought of the matter – ‘one of the grooms drove me when I last went to the Emporium. He drove very well, and there is no need to disturb the coachman. I won’t be going far.’

  ‘That would be young Tom, miss.’

  ‘Then send him.’

  Mr Harricot paused undecided. It wasn’t wise to go against the wishes of the fancy, but neither was it prudent to lay himself open to censure by the master. ‘I ain’t sure about that, miss. Tom could have been dismissed without a reference if the master found out what happened on that occasion. Ay, and me too, for not telling on the boy.’

  ‘Found out what, Harricot?’ Clarissa put on her best impression of the grande dame.

  ‘About you not travelling home with your maid, miss.’

  ‘And what do you know of that?’ Clarissa was exultant that her theories should be proven so quickly, but worried that Marianne’s disappearance might still be made public.

  ‘Ain’t no use in bamming me with such stories as you may be sure young Tom did. It ain’t right, and no more do I believe you met your particular friends like he says. It were a man you were meeting and I’m surprised in Lord Leighton to think he should have arranged such an assignation. With him being such a nice gentleman an’ all.’

  The revelation hit home immediately and Clarissa wondered why she hadn’t thought of it herself. Marianne went out with only her maid for company and driven by a groom she could apparently trust. Very likely it was, as Harricot suspected, a tryst, and the girl immediately found her thoughts flying back to Marianne’s final letter. She’d mentioned a lad, Stephen, was
n’t it? Had she run off with him after all? Harricot had no doubt tricked the groom into a partial confession, or more likely, beat it out of him. Then, putting two and two together, mistakenly arrived at Leighton as the villain of the piece.

  ‘Mr Harricot.’ Convinced that the lad could provide her with vital clues to her sister’s disappearance, Clarissa drew herself to her full height and prepared to overawe the man. ‘Let me remind you of my position. If I will it, Tom will drive me, whatever you say or do.’

  ‘Not unless Mr Markham gives his personal authority.’

  Clarissa almost stamped her foot when Harricot maintained his surly refusal in the face of her insistence.

  ‘If I have to fetch my uncle—’ She didn’t have time to complete her threat before Mr Harricot interrupted her once more, which was probably a good thing since her thoughts were so chaotic she’d probably have been betrayed into a quite unladylike indiscretion.

  ‘Mr Markham, miss,’ he told her politely. ‘He’s heading this way.’

  ‘Uncle.’ Clarissa ran off to intercept the rapidly approaching gentleman out of Harricot’s earshot. ‘I really must have Tom as my groom again.’ She shouted out the words for the benefit of Mr Harricot. Then, added her reasons in a low tone only her uncle could catch, ‘Tom may know more of Marianne than any of us guess. He was driving her on that fateful afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ John Markham eyed his niece uneasily. He’d had a disturbing interview with his wife, who’d disclosed her own feeling the girl was on course to let an entire litter of cats out of the bag. Thus, when he’d seen her head for the stables, he’d naturally followed. He couldn’t quite reconcile the idea of Clarissa, by far the quieter than her sister, revealing all in front of the servants, but he did know just how much their own consequence would suffer if it became common knowledge they’d attempted to fool society. Then again, he’d already discovered that the girl, despite her sweet nature, could prove remarkably stubborn, especially where her sister’s well-being was concerned.