A Fine Passion (Bastion Club 4)

Clarice held up a hand. “Just listen, if you would, and let’s see if I have this straight. Roger told you of the youthful misdemeanors Moira thought to hold over his head to prevent him from offering for your hand. Is that correct?”

Alice’s lips firmed. She nodded.

“Roger thought you understood, that you were as determined to go forward as he to formalize your engagement. Then, however—do correct me if I’m wrong—you spoke to Moira, to upbraid her over her attempt to blackmail Roger into dancing to her tune.”

Alice’s face fell. She looked faintly ill, but she didn’t contradict Clarice; she simply stood there, her large eyes fixed on Clarice’s face.

Clarice felt her features harden, fought not to sound too harsh when she said, “My dear Alice, I think you’d better tell me what Moira said to you—what else she told you about Roger—because I’m prefectly certain whatever it was, she lied to you.”

Hope welled in Alice; it showed in her eyes, but she didn’t know whether to trust in it or not. She searched Clarice’s face with painful intensity, then she glanced at her mother, reached for Clarice’s hand, and tugged her back a few steps from the chaise.

Alice retained Clarice’s hand, pressing her fingers. “You said you haven’t been in London for years. If so, how can you truly know Roger, know him well?”

Clarice smiled reassuringly. “Part of the reason I no longer grace the ton is because I grew up closer to my brothers than was probably wise. Until the age of sixteeen, I spent every hour I could with them. I do know all three of them very well indeed.”

She let her memories and her fondness for her brothers show in her eyes.

Alice saw, read the truth. She hesitated, once more searching Clarice’s eyes, then she drew a huge breath, and let it out in a strangled whisper. “Moira said he preferred boys.”

“What?” Clarice only just managed to mute her exclamation. She turned her back on the room and pressed Alice’s hand. “Sorry. I…” Stunned, she shook her head, then set her jaw, and met Alice’s wide, almost pleading eyes. “Moira made that up from whole cloth. There is absolutely no truth in it. Well—” Dragging in a breath, she turned and with a gesture directed Alice to look at Roger, standing across the room with Alton and Jack.

“Roger has been in purgatory thinking he’d lost you, struggling to win you back, not for weeks, but months. That, Alice, is not the behavior of a man who in reality prefers boys.”

Even saying the words, she felt ill. How dare Moira invent such a thing?

Alice looked up at her, her expression clearing, transforming as belief strengthened and happiness beckoned. Clarice herself felt torn. Should she tell her brothers what poison Moira had spread, or would it be better to keep silent?

Alice shook her hand to regain her attention. “I…feel so happy”—she swallowed—“almost. I love Roger so, and I’ve been so miserable, but…how can I face him now without telling him what I believed?”

Releasing Alice, Clarice lifted her chin. “I’ll tell him. I’ll explain how you felt, and make sure he understands…it’s not something a lady can ask a gentleman about, after all.”

She met Alice’s eyes, saw incipient joy flaring like a beacon in the brown. “I’ll speak with him now, then send him to you. After that…his heart truly is in your hands. Don’t disappoint me.”

Alice started to smile, blinking back tears. “Oh, I won’t, Lady Clarice. I promise I’ll always love him.”

“Just Clarice if we’re to be sisters-in-law.” Looking at Roger, Clarice patted Alice’s hand, then she looked one last time at Alice, smiled and turned to go. “Oh!” She turned back, met Alice’s eyes. “One last thing. Be especially careful around Moira. She won’t take this well. You’d be well-advised, once Roger has formally offered for you and been accepted, and that better be done as soon as possible, to take your parents into your confidence over the tricks Moira’s played. Moira is not to be trusted, not in any way.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed, her lips firmed. “Once Roger marries me, I’ll keep Moira away.”

There was steel beneath Alice’s soft brown, distinctly feminine exterior. Entirely satisfied with Roger’s choice, Clarice swept back across the ballroom to inform him the reins of his future were once again in his hands.

Telling Alton and Roger about Moira’s lie wasn’t the easiest thing she’d ever done, but she did it without a blink, then, as she’d expected, spent the next ten minutes damping down her brothers’ understandable wrath.

“We do not want Moira to know you’re retaking control of your lives, not until after the reins are firmly in your grasps.” She eyed Alton and Roger sternly. “There’s no benefit to us in ranting at her over this, unconscionable though it is. Now!” She faced Roger. “I’ve done my part. What comes next is up to you. If you have any nous at all, you’ll reassure poor Alice that you quite understand how it was, and then together you can decry all Moira’s works and, as soon as possible, grab your chance and offer for Alice’s hand. Once you’ve been accepted, explain about Moira. Don’t try to protect her. If you do, she’ll just use the opportunity to scupper your happiness again. Just hold off any formal announcement until we have Nigel and Alton settled, too.”

Slightly dazed, Roger nodded. His gaze drifted across the room to where Alice stood watching, nervously waiting.

Clarice made an exasperated humming sound, grabbed Roger by the shoulders, turned him to face Alice, and gave him a shove. “Go.”

With hope in his eyes, Roger went.

Clarice blew out a breath, then turned to Alton. “Now, where next? The Hendersons’?”

They separated, Alton going ahead to the last ball on their list, at Lady Hartford’s, there to speak with his Sarah. Clarice and Jack would meet him there after they’d waltzed through the Hendersons’ ballroom and met Nigel and his Emily.

Nigel was heartened to hear of Clarice’s success in clearing Roger’s path. Greatly encouraged, he introduced them to Emily, who proved to be a sweet-tempered young lady but no meek miss. She searched Clarice’s face in rather studious fashion, then shook hands, and murmured, “I always thought the snide remarks your half sisters made couldn’t possibly be true.”

The smile that went with that statement drew an answering response from Clarice. Despite the difference in age and experience, they found common ground in discussing Nigel and his manifold shortcomings.