“Which brings us to her third and final Season. To the very start of it, when her stepmother, Moira, and Clarice returned to the capital. There had been some correspondence between Melton and a Viscount Emsworth, of which Clarice was initially unaware. The long and short of it was that Emsworth had title, estates, but insufficient wealth, and he was also ambitious, so he was looking for a well-dowered and also well-connected bride.”
“Clarice fitted his bill, I take it.” Jack heard his grim tone, and wondered why he felt as he did, as
if he’d willingly plant Emsworth a facer.
“To a tee. Emsworth had written to Melton asking for Clarice’s hand. He presented his offer as a suitable-to-all-parties marriage of convenience. Moira was by then desperate to get Clarice married and off her hands—her own eldest daughter would be presented the following year. Of all his daughters, Clarice was Melton’s favorite, was the best dowered as she’d also inherited considerable funds through her mother, and she has a much more…commanding presence than her half sisters. Indeed, with her in the room, they fade into the wallpaper, so one can at least understand Moira’s attitude.”
James paused as they turned to retrace their steps; Jack held his tongue and waited for him to continue.
“Moira pressed Melton to accept Emsworth’s suit. Melton wished to consult Clarice, but Moira convinced him letting Emsworth woo Clarice in romantic fashion during the Season was more likely to sway Clarice—eventually, Melton gave way. However, he agreed to the match on the condition that Clarice agreed.
“It transpired,” James said, his tone hardening, “that Moira and Emsworth had an agreement, too. Moira knew Clarice would never accept Emsworth—the man’s a priggish tyrant, I’ve heard—but Moira wasn’t going to allow Clarice’s capriciousness to stand in her and her daughter’s way, so…once Moira and Clarice were in town, and, despite Emsworth’s marked attentions, Clarice showed no signs of being swept off her feet, Moira and Emsworth took matters into their own hands.”
“How so?” Jack’s words were clipped; foreboding rang in them.
“Much as you’ve guessed. They arranged for Clarice and Emsworth to be discovered in a compromising situation by two of the more prominent hostesses. Scandal threatened, but Emsworth promptly stepped forward to do the honorable thing and offer the protection of his name.”
“How neat.”
To Jack’s surprise, James grinned at his cuttingly sarcastic remark. “Actually, no. Moira and Emsworth thought they had the whole sewn up tight, but they’d reckoned without Clarice.”
Jack blinked. His experience of the ton wasn’t vast, but it was enough to appreciate the situation and the forces ranged against Clarice. “She refused?”
James’s grin grew. “Categorically. She saw through the whole scheme in a blink and simply, unwaveringly, refused to, as she put it, be socially blackmailed into such a union.”
Jack frowned. “But there was a scandal.” That had to be the reason why Clarice now lived there.
“Oh, indeed!” James sighed. “The scandal to top all scandals, most of which can be laid at Moira’s door. She was determined to force Clarice into the marriage and stopped at nothing to increase the pressure. By the time Melton heard of it and arrived in town, the damage to Clarice’s reputation was done—or rather, her reputation was hanging above the abyss by a single thread. If she agreed to marry Emsworth, all would be forgiven—you know how these affairs are managed.”
Jack said nothing, but he did, indeed, understand.
“And that, unfortunately, was where Melton’s less-than-admirable side came to the fore. He was a stickler for keeping the family escutcheon pristine and unblemished. Despite understanding the whole, including how he himself had been manipulated, he nevertheless insisted that now things had come to such a pass, Clarice had to wed Emsworth to protect the family name.”
Jack made a disgusted sound.
James nodded. “Precisely. You can imagine the arguments, the rants and raving. Yet despite all the forces arrayed against her, Clarice refused to budge. She adamantly refused to marry Emsworth.” James paused, then continued, “If she’d been a less formidable female, I daresay some rather less savory methods of persuasion would have been applied, but when Clarice declared a position, no one, not even then, doubted she would hold to it to her grave. So…”
“Stalemate,” Jack said. His nickname for the lady seemed remarkably apt.
“In a fashion, but it wasn’t a situation that could remain unresolved. Melton forced the issue by threatening to banish Clarice from his houses and estates.”
Jack’s jaw clenched tight. The notion of a lady of Clarice’s standing being tossed into the streets brought out every protective instinct he possessed. What had he fought the last thirteen years for? So well-heeled aristocrats could treat their daughters like that?
His disillusionment with tonnish society plumbed new depths.
“So you stepped in and brought her here.” He looked up at the rectory as they drew near once more.
“Not directly. Her three older brothers were appalled by Melton’s decree. They interceded and persuaded him to allow Clarice to retire from society and live here, with me.” James’s lips twisted wryly. “Within the family, I’m considered a black sheep, having gone into the Church and not even in the pursuit of power. Researching military strategies was never considered a suitable occupation for an Altwood. On the other hand, there are times the family is quite grateful to have a member of the Church as one of their own. And in this case, living so quietly here as I do, so cut off from society, my house seemed the perfect solution—much like those convents to which recalcitrant young ladies used to be sent to consider the follies of their ways.”
James’s slow smile returned. “Much to everyone’s surprise, Clarice agreed.”
Jack shot James a glance. “Did you know her? Did she know you?”
“Yes, but we’d only met a handful of times at family gatherings. Nevertheless, while I would hardly describe us as kindred souls, we’d both recognized the other as an amenable companion. We rub along quite nicely.”
Jack couldn’t imagine it, not for himself. “You don’t find having such a…lady”—termagent, battle-hardened warrior-queen—“constantly about distracting?”
“Not at all. While Clarice is hardly quiet or restful, there’s much to be said for having one’s house run by a highly competent female. And as I mentioned, she’s dealt with all those problems and questions that in your father’s absence, and yours, devolved to me—her presence has been a boon.”