His time on the continent seemed drab when side by side with the hours he had spent in Miss Crompton’s company. He was now determined to conclude his feelings one way or the other. Either he would discover that the intensity of emotion he felt would fade, or it would persist. Either way, he would have difficulty persuading Miss Crompton that he was worthy of her notice.
Moreover, he would have to challenge his own beliefs andopinions on the matter of love.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The drawing room was chilly the following afternoon. Some of the guests had retired before dinner, and Clarissa, Rosemary, and Emily were sitting at tea before the fire.
Lady Eleanor had mentioned a walk about the grounds in the snow a little later, and Clarissa wondered if she could feign an illness to avoid it. She was uncertain about spending more time with Lord Bolton but decided against the pretence of an ailment as she did not wish to draw attention to herself.
She glanced across the room to Lord Bolton, who was sitting on the chaise reading a book. His long legs were outstretched before him. She found her eyes lingering on his fingers as they held the volume. She could not help remembering when their fingers had touched during the dance and a shiver ran down her spine.
Just as it did so he looked up, his expression not quite so warm as it had been. He seemed contemplative, and when he looked at her, he had a slight frown upon his face.
She sipped her tea.
“When do you plan to make your debut in society?” Rosemary asked Emily, and Clarissa was instantly diverted. Her father was sitting far away from them across the room, but she saw his head turn slightly at the question.
“I have discussed it with my aunt and uncle a little,” Emily said. “My uncle has considered next April. But it will depend upon a few factors.”
Emily flicked a glance at Clarissa, and she tried to keep her smile in place. Please don’t speak of Catherine in this room, Emily.
“I would very much hope to debut next season, but I willalways follow what my uncle and aunt think is best for me. I would very much like to attend a ball with Clary, she is the best woman I have ever known.”
Clarissa glanced at her cousin, surprised by the emotion in her words. Emily’s eyes were shining with tears, and she gave her a brave smile. Clarissa leaned forward and squeezed her wrist, feeling tears prick at the back of her eyes.
“Clarissa was a dear friend for many years, and I confess myself angry that I have not kept in touch more frequently,” Rosemary said solemnly. “I would like to write to you often. It has been wonderful having you here for Christmas.”
Clarissa’s mother was leaning toward them and shamelessly eavesdropping, but Clarissa smiled.
“Thank you, Rosemary; it has been wonderful getting acquainted again.”
Rosemary passed around a plate of biscuits, and they all took one. The door behind them opened, and Henry entered. He flopped down beside Nicholas, forcing him to move his legs with a huff of irritation. Clarissa loved their relationship; it always made her smile. When she turned back, however, she was surprised to see Emily watching Henry. However, as soon as she noticed Clarissa’s gaze, Emily blushed and looked back at her tea.
Nicholas was pensive beside Henry. He had been looking at his book for some time, but his eyes were not moving across it, and he had not turned a page for many minutes. His gaze was darker today, and he had been very quiet.
Clarissa felt the same confusing jumble of emotions as she considered that his regard for her might have faltered. Perhaps he was eager to be gone from England. It should have been a good thing, given how complex her association with him could become. Yet she did not feel happy with the discovery.
“Shall we depart?” asked Eleanor as she rose from herseat. There was a general murmuring from the group as those who chose to walk accompanied her. Clarissa stayed close to Rosemary, hoping that she could remain at her side around the gardens.
They all put on their coats and hats and departed.
The long path up the centre of the gardens was wide and open and clear of snow. The various large stone pots on either side of the walkway were layered in blankets of white. Cobwebs hung from the trees, and the sky was heavy above them.
“I declare there shall be another snowstorm before the week is out,” Lady Eleanor said as she set the pace.
Clarissa walked beside Rosemary. Ahead of them, Henry stepped up to Emily and bowed, giving her his arm. Clarissa watched them, and she wondered. Henry was jovial and cheerful and had Emily chuckling quickly. Clarissa’s heart clenched at the reminder of simpler relationships.
The sun came out as they walked through the snow-laden grounds, and it made everything glisten beautifully. The skeletons of the trees were encrusted with clumps of snow and all about them the sun’s beams reflected brightly, lifting everyone’s spirits.
Clarissa watched a robin hop over the earth a little way from the path, and she wondered if it might be the same one she had seen some days ago. Perhaps it had followed her here.
“I long for the summer,” Rosemary said quietly as they walked behind the others.
“Would you ever wish to travel to warmer climes with your brother?” Clarissa asked curiously.
“Rosemary detests the sea,” came a deep voice from behind her as Lord Bolton joined them.
“I do not detest it, but I cannot swim. It would be exceedingly unwise to travel in a ship when it might capsize and kill us all.”
