There were many grumblings about the riddle being too hard, but Nicholas could see that Miss Crompton was getting somewhere.
“Whole,” she muttered, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Always of thirst…” she said, tapping her chin with her finger. Emily was positively vibrating with irritation now—Lady Crompton appeared to be very bad at the game.
“Punch bowl?” Clarissa asked, and Nicholas clapped his hands rather too loudly, making everyone jump.
“Miss Crompton has it,” he said, feeling jubilant that they had won. He caught Henry’s eye at the back of the room and cleared his throat at his knowing expression. Everyone applauded, and the game continued as Emily took to the floor to ask her riddle.
Nicholas felt his heart beating fast in his chest, his breath coming unevenly as he took his seat. His investment in her answer had been far greater than he would have expected, and as he took his seat beside her, a gentle smell wafted over him. It smelled like white jasmine. He had an absurd wish to bring his nose to her hair and memorize the scent.
Instead, he merely nodded his head as he took his seat. “Well done,” he said, trying not to disgrace himself with his enhanced enthusiasm. “However did you get it?”
“Well,” she said thoughtfully. “I knew the first clue must have been ‘punch’ because of the making of holes. But then I couldn’t get the second until I realised ‘on the green’ could meanbowling, and then I had it.”
She was smiling now, and he found himself doing the same.
“Excellent; I know whom I shall partner with in all future games. However, I must tell you, my prowess lies in reading the riddles, not guessing them.”
She laughed softly, a beautiful blush suffusing her cheeks, and he smiled, leaning back in the chair as they listened to Emily’s recital.
Only when the game turned to acting out titles from literature did the competition begin to take shape. Nicholas was thrilled to see Clarissa’s competitive side start to show itself, and as the teams began to work together against the rest of the room, he was more excited than he should have been to stand up with her.
They stood side by side, looking at the title they had to act out. It was the book Pride & Prejudice by Janes Austen, and much hilarity was had as Nicholas began to stand very tall and look down his nose at Clarissa, which even made Emily giggle gleefully, despite her intense desire to win.
But as they continued, trying to show ‘prejudice,’ which felt thoroughly impossible to Nicholas’s mind, Clarissa leaned close to him to whisper her idea, and his entire body seemed to come alive at her proximity. As she showed him what she intended, their hands brushed briefly, and he heard her sharp intake of breath before she composed herself.
After that, he was unable to concentrate on very much at all, trying to decipher what that might have meant.
Is her indifference merely a mask she wears? Does she have some regard for me, after all?
The idea was thrilling, and as they finally heard Lord Crompton's correct guess, Nicholas was in a paroxysm of uncertainty as they took their seats.
The final charade of the night fell to Clarissa. She andNicholas were now equal with Emily and Lady Crompton. It was—as his aunt cried delightedly—all to play for.
Nicholas wondered how Clarissa would fair alone in front of the entire room when he had assumed she was so shy. He was more than pleasantly surprised, therefore, when she began to act out the word without any guardedness or reserve at all. She was animated and lively, her eyes bright and happy. She was, in his eyes, entirely unlike the rather sad and quiet woman he had met for the first time that afternoon.
This was the real Miss Crompton; he was certain of it. She was entirely vibrant and energetic, sparkling like a diamond in the centre of the room. He could not keep his eyes off her.
She was miming in front of her mouth, perhaps eating or talking. Then, she would point to a music box on the side and repeat the action. After a long moment of watching her—and concentrating rather more on her person than on his guess—it suddenly came to him.
“Chatterbox!” he cried, and the smile she sent his way was nothing short of dazzling. She jumped in excitement, clapping her hands together as the room erupted in applause. They had won!
Nicholas managed a smile as she sat beside him. Miss Crompton was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes dancing excitedly. The same scent wafted over him, and it took all his strength not to take her into his arms then and there.
As he glanced away from her, he caught Madeline Wilde's disapproving gaze from across the room. Nicholas felt a strange uneasiness envelop him as he thought of the two women side by side.
In one lay an easy path he had trodden many times before—an uncomplicated life devoid of broken hearts and ill-feeling. No pain would be felt by anyone if he made that journey.
Then, there was a darker path he had travelled only oncebefore. It had led him to the worst time of his life, where everything had been upended, and all happiness had almost been lost. He was still recovering from the blow Victoria had dealt him, and his feelings for her, in hindsight, had been nothing like the intensity and joy he experienced in Clarissa’s presence.
Could he risk opening his heart again? Or was an easy, well-trodden path the safest road?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Clarissa woke to the brightness of a new day. The heavy layer of snow on the ground outside reflected the faint winter sun across the room. It was still very early, but she usually woke at dawn these days.
Her bedroom in Lady Eleanor’s manor was very beautiful. It had a four-poster bed and long, dark green velvet curtains. She had been examining them for some time since the servant girl had left. The fire was lit, and the room was slowly warming. In any case, she was very comfortable beneath the thick eiderdown above her.
She could not take her eyes off the drapes. They were the wrong shade of green, somehow. She wondered why that might be when the truth of the matter presented itself in a frenzy of images of the night before.
