A Little Bit Sinful

chapter Fifteen


Justin had intended to invite her to accompany him back to the hotel that night, but had changed his mind. It was one thing for him to break into a building, but to bring along his wife and make her a criminal as well…

“Are you going back to Rodale’s?” her voice came from behind him.

He considered lying to her, but he’d never been much of a liar. Part of why he’d hated gambling. “No, I am going to Manchester House,” he said. “I need this issue resolved. And I want to take a peek at those records before that man decides to destroy them. If he hasn’t already done so.”

“I’m going with you,” she said.

“Chrissy, there is no need for that. If we get caught, there will be nothing I can do to salvage the rest of your good name.”

She frowned. “This is infinitely more important than that.” When he didn’t immediately agree to her going, she popped her fists on her hips. “Take me or I’ll simply follow you there,” she said defiantly.

“Why do you care so much about this?” he asked. He asked the question before he thought better of it. He wanted her to say that she cared about him, but he knew he’d never hear those words from her. She’d married him because she hadn’t had another option.

“You saved me, helped me, I should like to return the favor.”

“That is the only reason?”

“Should there be another?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted, all innocence and loveliness.

He shook his head. “Are you wearing that?”

She looked down at her muted green gown and nodded.

“Come then,” he said. He assisted her into their carriage. “You will have to follow closely behind me and be quiet. I’d like to get in and out of there without alerting them to our presence.”

“Obviously,” she said. When he looked at her with raised brows she shrugged. “Else we would be going during the day. I suspected you intended to sneak in. Are we to pose as guests?”

“Not anything so obvious,” he said. “We are slipping inside and down to the basement area. If we are seen—” He shook his head. “I don’t want to think about what happens if we’re seen.” If that happened, he’d be lucky if they weren’t arrested.

The ride to Manchester House was relatively quick as the late hour made for mostly empty streets. When they arrived, he helped Clarissa down to the street.

Confusion crossed her features; she looked around them. “Where are we?”

“At the back of Manchester House. We can’t very well go in the front door.”

She grinned. “No, I don’t suppose we can. Makes perfect sense.” She motioned for him to go on. “Proceed. I shall follow closely.”

And she did. They crept into the alleyway behind the hotel and up to the door at the back. “Okay, stay close,” he said. They went up to the door and he tried the handle. “Locked,” he said. He hadn’t expected anything different, which was why he’d brought supplies for such a thing. He retrieved the tool tools from his pocket and stuck them in the keyhole and finagled them around.

“How did you learn how to do that?” she asked.

He looked over his shoulder at her. “They teach this at Eton.”

She rolled her eyes.

There was a clicking noise and then he opened the door. He pocketed the tools and peeked inside the door. The darkened room appeared empty. He motioned for her to follow him inside.

There was no way to light a candle until they were down in the basement area, so they’d have to do their best in the dark here. They stood for a moment allowing their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Justin took a step forward. They appeared to be in a corridor that led to an enormous kitchen on one side and a pantry on the other.

“We need to find stairs that go downward,” he whispered.

She nodded. The first floor was large. They found parlors and a library, and eventually wound their way back to the lobby they were in the other day.

“There have to be stairs,” he said.

“We should have asked Lady Manchester,” she said.

Justin stepped around the counter where the Lady Manchester’s cousin had stood. Behind there he found a door. “Chrissy,” he said with a nod.

She came around to meet him. They stepped through the door, which opened into a room that appeared to be a private office. A quick survey of the space showed another door at the far end. Justin opened it and there found a staircase that led downward.

“Finally,” Justin said. He grabbed Clarissa’s hand and together they descended into the darkness. Once Justin reached solid floor, he reached into his back pocket and retrieved a candle and match. He struck it and the flame hissed to life. He lit the candle and the small area around them illuminated.

It wasn’t an overly large space and filled mostly with boxes.

Clarissa stepped around him. “Shall we get started?” She stepped over to one of the boxes and pulled off the lid. Justin came over to meet her. Inside they found several of the books similar to the book kept at the counter upstairs, the ledger book where guests were logged in. She opened the book on top, but it was from 1872.

“There must be one book for each year,” he said. “Thank goodness for good record keeping.” He moved over to another box and opened it. The first book he came to was 1857. “Getting closer.”

Clarissa came over closer to him and opened another box. “1849. This must be the right box.” She withdrew the book and set it aside, and retrieved the one beneath. “1848?”

“I think we really need the previous year,” he said. His heart sped. This could be it, if Lady Manchester was right and this Simone was his mother, then he could uncover her name in just a moment.

Clarissa handed him the book. He opened it and flipped through the pages. Page after page of names until the words began to blur.

“There, look, Simone Gauteir, that must be her,” she said, looking up at him.

He nodded and looked down where her finger pointed to the decidedly feminine penmanship. There was an address listed. “My apologies to Lady Manchester,” he said, then he ripped the page from the book.

“Are you ready?” Clarissa asked.

“I want to look through the rest of these boxes,” he said. “That man was nervous for some reason, not wanting people down here. And then something Lady Manchester said. I’m fairly certain he’s hiding something.” Justin moved to other boxes and still found book after book. But there had to be something down here the man didn’t want found. Justin had nearly given up when he caught the sight of a piece of parchment hanging out of the corners of a book. He pulled on it, freeing it from its confines.

“It’s her will. I’ll read through it later, but if what she said was true and she left this hotel to her niece, then Winston upstairs will have some serious explaining to do.” He folded the parchment and put it with the other paper. “Now, let’s go.”

They went out the same way they’d come in only much quicker. By the time they reached the carriage, Clarissa’s breath was shorter.

“That was exhilarating,” she said, once they were on their way. “What will you do with her will?”

“Probably pass it to my barrister and allow him to handle the situation.”

She reached across and put her hand on his. “I’m glad we found it.”

He nodded, but said nothing else. In all honesty, he was glad she was here with him, glad she’d been the one to help him uncover his mother’s identity. Ever since he began the search for her, he’d always assumed that it would be Clipps who’d be with him when he received something in the mail. This was better.

Had it been Clipps, though, the moment would have been quite different. Somehow, though, Clarissa simply knew this moment was more important than he wanted to admit. And he knew that he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else here with him tonight other than her.

…

The following evening Clarissa sat in Justin’s study going over her ledgers for Ella’s family. Mr. Bembridge had made some significant headway for their financial distress.

Things had been strained between them since the night Justin had come to her bed. He still spoke to her congenially, but not about anything of worth. He hadn’t spoken again about the information they’d discovered in Manchester House.

She wanted to ask more about what he intended to do, but she was terrified he would shut her out completely. That he would wake up and realize that his desire for her had waned and there was nothing in their marriage he wanted anymore. So she had not said another word about it. She feared that in bringing him that information, in an effort to become closer to him, she’d pushed him further away.

It was one thing to acknowledge the fact that her husband would never love her. She was trying to come to terms with that. But this indifferent friendliness would never do. She might not be able to discuss matters regarding his mother with him. If he needed to keep that separate from her for a while, then she could abide that. But she could at the very last find her way back to his bed. When he returned from Rodale’s she would discuss that with him. Or perhaps, she’d do as he once told her—a seductress takes action. So perhaps she’d merely be in his bed when he arrived home.

The study door opened and she looked up expecting to see her husband. “Did you forget something?” she asked. Then she realized, it was not Justin standing in the study doorway, but rather George.

She came to her feet. “George? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to have a talk with you, in private,” he said. “Obviously I couldn’t do so the other evening at the Potterfield Ball because your husband was right there with you. So I came here instead.” He eyed her a moment, then smiled. “After I saw Rodale leave for the night.”

She came around the desk, intending to see him back out the door. “I don’t believe we have anything to discuss, George.” There was no longer a reason for her to be pleasant to him. He’d done the unforgivable to her.

“Oh, but we do, Clarissa, we have much to discuss. I will admit that your attempt at coercing me into marriage angered me at first, but I have forgiven you.”

She felt her eyebrows rise. “Oh, you’ve forgiven me, have you?” That was rich. He courted her for more than a year, then he put his hands on her body, yet had chosen to forgive her. Ella had been right about George all along, and Clarissa could kick herself for not trusting her friend sooner.

“Indeed. That was a very naughty thing you did, Clarissa,” he said. He took several steps toward her effectively penning her between himself and the desk behind her.

“It was a mistake, a huge mistake,” Clarissa said, more to herself than in an effort to apologize.

“Now that you’re married, we can come to an agreement.” Again he moved toward her.

She braced her hands on the desk behind her.

“An arrangement that would serve both of our needs.” He ran a finger down the side of her arm.

How had she ever thought him handsome? Now as he stood before her, she saw nothing but arrogance and pride and a smile that made promises it never kept. “There will be no arrangement between us, George. You should leave. Now.”

“No, now is the perfect time for us. Your husband has gone to Rodale’s. He won’t be home for hours. We have time. Plenty of time to pick up where we left off. Finish what we started.” He grabbed her and pulled her against him. His grip on her arms was tight, uncomfortable.

“Unhand me, George. I am a married woman.”

“All the more reason that we can now have that affair. I know you want me, Clarissa. I’ve seen the desire in your eyes. And the way you kissed me. You are a wanton,” George said. “I cannot believe it took me so long to see it.”

“I am no such thing. And I most certainly do not want you. Justin will be home any moment,” she said. But she knew it was untrue. George had been right. Justin had left for Rodale’s and said he probably wouldn’t be back until dawn. She was at the mercy of George and his unwanted advances. She supposed she could scream, but she was new in Justin’s household and being caught in the arms of another man…there was no way she could explain her way out of that. She certainly didn’t want to make Justin look bad.

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms and leaned in to kiss her neck. She pushed at him, shoved at him, but his strength would not be swayed.

“I’ll scream.”

He laughed. “Good, I like a woman with fight in her. Makes it more interesting.”

Oh God, how had she been so very wrong about this man? Or how had Rebecca?

He released one of her arms and rearranged her so that he held both of her arms in one of his hands. He was so strong. With his free hand he slid up her skirt, running his palm against her stocking-clad leg. Her stomach churned.

“Help!” she yelled. It was worth it to try to get someone to help, but he slammed his mouth down on hers effectively stifling her voice. She tried to bite him, kick him, anything to get him off her, but her efforts were in vain. Clarissa’s heart pounded so loud, she heard it reverberating in her ears.

And then he was gone, pulled off her and slammed onto the floor.

“Get the hell off my wife and out of my house before I kill you,” Justin said. He stood over George’s body. “Don’t think I won’t.”

George pulled himself to his feet, rubbing his jaw. “I was just trying to take what she’d offered. Did she tell you the truth about that night?”

Justin slammed his fist into George’s face, then nailed him in the stomach. George doubled-over in pain.

“You should consider boxing, Rodale,” George said.

“I’ll say it again. Get the hell out of my house,” Justin said, his tone even, but deadly.

George wiped blood off his lip, then spit a mouthful onto Justin’s imported rug. “You can have her.”

…

The moment George left the study, Clarissa’s tears started. Justin gathered her in his arms.

“It’s all right now, love, I’m here.” He kissed her forehead, smoothed his hand over her hair. When he’d come in the room and seen George on her, he’d nearly lost his mind. He’d wanted to rip the bastard’s head off. “I should have killed him.”

She gave him a weak laugh. “That wouldn’t have solved anything. I certainly don’t need you in prison.”

“Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up,” he said.

…

Clarissa woke with a start. The room was still dark and Justin’s heavy sleeping form lay next to her, his breathing even. Her heart pounded. He’d taken her to her room the night before, helped her into her night clothes, then he had crawled into bed with her. He hadn’t made love to her, merely rubbed her back gently until she’d fallen asleep. And he had stayed in the bed with her.

Her heart swelled knowing what she must do.

She slid from the bed and stood silently watching him for a moment. He would not understand, no one would, but still it was something she needed to do. She’d waited too long and now it was time to go.

…

Justin stretched, and reached over to pull his wife close to him, but the side she’d slept on was empty. Cold and empty. She’d been gone a while. He sat up. Once he’d pulled on some trousers, he walked through the bathing chamber and then on to his room, but there was no sign of her in either place.

He ignored the choking feeling squeezing at him. Her maid, Mary, hadn’t seen her, so she’d evidently dressed on her own. She was not in the dining room and no one in the kitchen had seen her. George Wilbanks had gotten into their house the night before without any of the servants being the wiser, what if he’d come back and taken her?

“Mr. Rodale, sir, I’m afraid your wife has left. She hired a hack early this morning,” the butler said.

“Why they hell did you let her go?” But Justin didn’t wait for a response. He ran up the stairs and finished getting dressed, before returning and yelling for a carriage. In less than twenty minutes he was on the road to the Kincaid townhome. Clarissa was impetuous and…what if she had decided that marriage to him was simply not enough?

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Women in his life didn’t tend to stick around for very long. He’d already sent a letter to Simone Gauteir, but had yet to hear anything. His mother had left him a long time ago and nothing could be done about that, but he’d be damned if he’d let his wife leave.

He pounded on the front door of the townhome and was greeted by a smiling Vivian. Any other time he’d have asked why she was answering the door herself, but now was not the time.

“Justin?” she said in surprise.

“Is Clarissa here?”

She frowned. “No. Justin, what’s happened?”

“No time.” He turned and left and jumped back into the carriage and gave the driver Ella’s address. The ride there seemed to take an eternity and he was beginning to think he could have run faster when the carriage rolled to a stop.

Again he knocked on the door. When the butler opened it, he demanded an audience with Lady Ella and the man didn’t even blink, merely nodded and invited Justin inside.

Ella was evidently already waiting for him. She smiled when he stepped into the room.

“Where is she?”

“She went to Ashford Hall,” Ella answered without reservation. “She stopped by here early this morning, very upset. I made her take one of our carriages so she was with a trusted driver.”

He shook his head. She had left him. They hadn’t even been married a full month and she had left.

“Everyone she has ever loved has left her,” Ella said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Clarissa. Everyone she’s ever loved, they’ve all died or walked away,” Ella said.

“I’m not the one that left.”

Ella held up one hand. “Be patient with her, Mr. Rodale. She is frightened.”

“If she thinks I’m going to let her go without a fight.” He shook his head. “She is my wife.”

Ella nodded, then gave him a big smile. “Then go. Go get her.”

…

Clarissa walked quietly through the gardens of Ashford Hall. She caught sight of the large oak up ahead. Its sprawling limbs arched out and swooped down creating an umbrella to the grounds beneath it. When she’d awakened that morning she’d known precisely what she had to do.

Nearly her entire life she had tried to be someone she simply could not be. Someone she didn’t even want to be. She’d never be the perfect lady like Rebecca. Not for lack of trying, but she’d only ended up compromised and married to a most unexpected man.

The grave markers lined up in short rows.

She found the one she sought and knelt to the ground. She was quiet for a moment before she began to speak.

“Oh, Rebecca, I fear you would believe I have made such a mess of things. Though I tried very hard I was unable to marry the man you’d selected for me.” She took a deep breath. “But had you seen the truth of George’s character, you never would have selected him. He is not a nice man at all. Oh, he certainly knows how to behave as such, when the situation demands it, but underneath all that charm, he is quite horrid.” She exhaled slowly. “I know you never cared for Justin, you always thought he was so fussy.” Clarissa chuckled. “I think you would feel differently about him now. He’s grown into a wonderful man. And heaven’s above he is so handsome.

“I expected that simply because George had been born of noble blood that that somehow made him a true gentleman. Consequently, I expected the very opposite of Justin simply because he’d been born out of wedlock.” She sighed and smiled. “But Justin Rodale is more of a gentleman than another other man I know. He is so noble and honorable.

“I think you would see how he’s changed. I think you would like him, I hope you would. But it wasn’t just George you were wrong about, Rebecca, it was me.” Clarissa shook her head. “I’ve tried so hard, all these years, to be a lady like you taught me. To be genteel and proper and polite. But I’m none of those things. I’m smart and I’m good with numbers. After Charles died I fired our solicitor and managed the family money by myself. And I did a good job. I’ve even continued in the charade and helped a dear friend with her family’s financial situation.

I’ve hid in darkened corners of a museum and allowed a man to steal a kiss. And I enjoyed it, felt exuberant and alive.” She found herself smiling now as happiness surged through her. “I broke into a hotel, Rebecca! Oh how scandalized you would have been, but I loved every adventurous moment of it.”

She paused a moment, ran her hand over Rebecca’s carved name. “I don’t know that I’ll ever have that love that you and Charles had as I don’t know if Justin will ever love me in return. But there is something in Justin’s eyes, just as you said there would be when I found the right man. I’ve seen it. If I’m completely honest with myself it’s been there in his eyes the whole time.”

How had she missed that? She’d been so consumed with trying to marry George that she’d missed the man standing in front of her. If she wasn’t so damned relieved by the way things had worked out, she’d feel an utter fool. Somehow she’d made all the wrong choices, but ended up in the most perfect situation.

“I do wish you were still here, Rebecca to know me as I truly am and to know my husband. But I no longer feel like I need to live my life as you would have wanted me. I no longer feel as if your standards are the only standards. I’d like to hope that you would love me and would accept him, but even if you didn’t I’d still choose him.”

She was quiet a moment while she stared at the carving of Rebecca’s name until the letters blurred. “I believe I love him,” she said.

“He loves you too,” a voice said from behind her.

Clarissa stood and turned to see Justin standing there with a hand-pulled bunch of pansies in his fist. Tears filled her eyes. “Rebecca loved pansies, they were her favorite.”

“I know. I remember you told me that once.” He closed the distance between them and placed the flowers on Rebecca’s grave.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” He took a deep breath. “I came here ready to fight for you, ready to make you come home with me if I had to. I thought you’d left me.”

The tears fell, chilling her cheeks. “Never. No matter what, I’d never leave you.” She smiled up at him. “You were going to make me come home with you?”

“If I had to.”

“I can’t believe you thought I’d left.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t know how you were feeling since last night. Since George—are you certain you don’t want me to kill him?”

She laughed. “Of course not. Though you could have hit him a few more times.”

“I’ve banned him from Rodale’s. He will no longer be using our gaming hell as his cover,” Justin said.

“You did?” She looked up at him, his intense amber eyes, the handsome chiseled jaw. Her husband. “Did you mean what you said?”

“About?”

“Do you truly love me?”

“Yes.” He pulled her to him, squeezing her tight. “I love you, Chrissy. Or do you prefer Clarissa?”

“No, I’ve grown quite fond of Chrissy. But only with you.”

“Yes, only with me. Forever only with me.”





Epilogue


Clarissa ran up the stairs of Rodale’s as quickly as her skirts would allow her. If Justin would simply agree to purchase her some trousers, this would be so much easier. She clutched her reticule to her chest and she reached the top and opened the outer offices.

Clipps looked up from his new desk and smiled. “Morning Mrs. R.”

“Morning, Basil. Can’t talk, have an important letter for Justin,” she said. She breezed through into the larger office, the office she now shared with her husband.

“My love, I told you I would be home by dinner.” He grinned sinfully at her. “Couldn’t wait to see me?”

She retrieved the envelope from her reticule. “This came in the post.” She handed it to him.

He looked down and then back up to her. “It’s from Paris.”

She nodded. “Read it!”

He opened it and stood there quietly for several moments. Then he looked up at her. “It’s her,” he said with a smile.

Clarissa smiled and then threw her arms around her husband. “I knew we’d find her. What does she say?”

“That she would love to come to London and meet me. She has other children. It would seem I have two sisters.”

“Oh, Justin, I love you so much,” she said. Her heart swelled so much she feared it would burst.

“I couldn’t have done this without you. I never would have looked in the right place.” He glanced back at the letter. “She seems quite happy I found her.”

“I’m certain she is. She’ll love you. It’s simply impossible not to.”



About the Author

As a life-long lover of stories and adventure, it was either become a stuntwoman for the movies or live out those adventures from the safety of her PJ’s and computer. Award-winning author, Robyn DeHart chose the latter and couldn’t be happier for doing so. Known for her unique plotlines and authentic characters, Robyn is a favorite among readers and reviewers. Publishers’ Weekly claims her writing to be “comical and sexy” while the Chicago Tribune dubs her “wonderfully entertaining.” Robyn is also a four-time RT Bookclub Reviewers’ Choice award nominee, and a three-time RomCon Reader’s Crown nominee. Look for two new series coming from Robyn in 2013. Robyn lives in Texas with her brainy husband, two precocious little girls, and two spoiled cats. You can find Robyn online at her website or at one of her group blogs, the Jaunty Quills or Peanut Butter on the Keyboard.