“And on rails,” Lady Wilde added with a shudder. “How on earth could one be expected to trust a line of metal going over the English countryside in such a way? I would not hear of such a thing. I would prefer a carriage and a team of four over something so unruly.”
Clarissa tightened her grip on her wine glass as Lord Bolton laughed and Lady Wilde began to titter along with him. Clarissa was unsure whether it was the laughter's high-pitched nature or to whom it was aimed that made her jaw clench.
“And what would you prefer, Miss Crompton?” Lord Bolton asked suddenly, looking up at her. Lord Wilde took another large gulp of his wine as his glass was refilled for the third time.
“I would say that you are both correct,” Clarissa replied honestly. “These advancements are exciting, but I must admit I would be cautious to try anything before it has been truly tested.”
She was eager to show some agreement with Lady Wilde’s opinion. For reasons she could not understand, the widow appeared to dislike her a great deal. Clarissa was far too familiar with people judging her on sight and making incorrect assumptions.
Lady Wilde, however, just took a sip of her wine and gave her a tight smile. Clarissa examined her through the candelabra between them and could not deny she was an uncommonly beautiful woman. Her hair was tied up in a beautiful bun, and on her hands and neck were a multitude of jewels that made Clarissa feel positively plain in comparison.
Why would Lord Bolton just not wish for her company? She is beautiful and diverting, and no scandal dogs her footsteps—merely good breeding and a better fortune.
Clarissa could not help but feel utterly inferior. She returned to her plate without saying anything more.
“Clary is the most sensible person I have ever met,” said Emily, surprising her enough to look up at her cousin. “And I think she is right. Either method of transportation has its methods, but one must understand the risks before one leaps headfirst into something new.”
Clarissa could almost hear her own voice in her cousin’s words and blushed a little. She had said many things like that over the two years Emily had lived with them, usually sourced from her own bitter resentment at her sister’s abandonment.
“Indeed, and what else does Miss Crompton do well besides making sensible choices?” Lord Bolton asked Emily, but his gaze was on Clarissa. She could not look at him, feeling overwhelmed and suffocated by her indecision.
“She reads more than anyone I have ever met,” Emily said with a grin. “How many books have you read this year, Clary?” she asked playfully.
Clarissa wanted to scold her, as she was embarrassed atbeing called out like this. Lady Wilde looked as though she had swallowed something unpleasant, and Clarissa was not sure what to say.
“I’ll wager she has read ten books this year,” Lord Bolton said, clearly guessing a low number to begin a debate. Lady Wilde brightened.
“I would say twenty,” she said, trying to catch his eye. To Clarissa’s astonishment, Lady Eleanor had been eavesdropping from the head of the table and shouted out that thirty would be more likely for a woman of good education.
By the end, Clarissa was laughing, as everyone except Emily and her parents had given their guess. Her father had a twinkle in his eye that she had not seen for a very long time, and she rejoiced in seeing its return.
“A shilling that it’s ten books,” said Lord Bolton, and those wicked green eyes caught hers across the table. She could not prevent a smile as they all waited for her answer.
“This year has been a rather slow one,” she remarked as her father gave her a knowing smile from his end of the table. “I am at the end of my current volume, which I confess is only my forty-second book this year.”
There were cries and exclamations of everyone but Emily, who giggled prettily and clapped her hands with delight.
“My goodness,” Lord Bolton stated, but his eyes were intimate and warm as he raised his glass in a toast. “To Miss Crompton,” he said to the company as Clarissa blushed fiercely. “Who makes everyone else here look quite stupid, to be sure.”
The whole table erupted with joy. Lady Wilde leaned in to say that she had read almost that many books herself, and Lord Bolton dutifully responded. But Clarissa could not take her eyes off his hand around his glass.
He had raised it and toasted to her intelligence in front of the entire room. It was as much a declaration of his regard asanything could be. She felt a stirring of unease ripple through her as Lady Crompton’s eyes met hers, and her mother raised her glass in a triumphant salute. Clarissa did not look at Lord Bolton again for the remainder of the meal.
After dinner, the party assembled in the drawing room.
Clarissa had not been in the room two minutes before Rosemary pulled her aside. The rest of the group was conversing around the fireplace. Emily was standing beside Lord Addison and asking him just as many questions as she had to Lord Bolton.
Clarissa frowned as her friend pulled her to the corner of the room.
“I suspected yesterday, I confess, but after that display, I can hardly ignore the obvious any longer. It appears my brother and you have grown fond of one another.” Rosemary’s face was open and interested, but Clarissa was cold all over at her implications.
Yet another person speaking of her attachment to Lord Bolton wrong-footed her again, and she could not come up with an adequate response. Rosemary raised her eyebrows and waited for her reply, and Clarissa gathered herself as best she could, cursing her easy blushes.
“Lord Bolton is a very intriguing man, but nothing more,” she persisted. “I cannot think he would find any interest in a lady such as myself; he has far too much to occupy him on the continent.”
She did not know whether she should speak plainly of Nicholas’s reputation, but she should not have worried. It appeared his sister was all too aware of the details.
“He certainly has had his fair share of rumours,” Rosemary agreed. “But I believe that some of those rumours were untrue and unkind. Nicholas has experienced great heartache in his life and I believe it was that experience that led him to leave England. He has never confided the truth to me, but I am surehis heart was broken.”
