Page 17 of Kiss the Duke Goodbye
“Clarissa, what a pleasant surprise,” he said in a dulcet tone and crossed to her. He dusted a kiss on each of her cheeks, a habit he’d acquired in France after his graduation from Eton. It always felt a bit forced to Clarissa, but suitable, as Viscount Pemberly wasn’t known for his genuineness.
“Father,” she returned, a moniker she usedonlyin this home, per his instructions when she was five years old.
He gestured to the settee as he parked his large frame in the armchair across from her. She poured tea and served biscuits while he waited, both of them aware her ladylike graces had come from governesses paid for by him. It made her feel wonderful to know she’d finally found a use for the skills. Little didheunderstand this, however.
They nibbled and made idle conversation about the recent snowstorm, the tempest that had kept a duke trapped in her home for three delightful days. Of course, she’d been in love with Knox by the time he left. Likely, he’d planned it that way, the diabolical scoundrel.
The viscount pointed to her with his teacup. “You seem changed, dear girl. A soft smile and a more winsome demeanor. If only you’d found this maturity years ago, we might have gotten along better.”
Clarissa shoved her wrath deep, in the chest she’d filled to the brim throughout her childhood. Although she must agree, she’d never been charming with this man. “You may disagree with your assessment after I tell you why I’ve come.”
He froze, his cup and saucer shivering in his hand. Shaking his head with a breath shot through his nose, he slumped back in the armchair. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Your mother didn’thave a mind for commerce, either, though she tried, I will say. Skill with a needle and thread was about all she had going for her. I knew that little shop she left you would be in peril at some point.”
Clarissa sipped tea and continued flashing hersoftsmile while she felt like a tigress inside. “The shop is actually doing well. Since I took over after Mother passed, I’ve tripled profits. What I’ve come to you about is a larger endeavor.”
A lifelong pledge.
The viscount rocked forward, bracing his hands on his knees. “I’m sorry, dear girl, but I can’t help you. I have two daughters on the Marriage Mart, and regrettably, they’re not as attractive as you. Excellent lineages but grim countenances, the opposite of your situation. Their dowries are going to break me.”
Clarissa glanced at him over the rim of her teacup, knowing this was not the case. “I’ve come to ask for a loan, not a grant. Two thousand pounds, with interest, payable in three years. My solicitor will draw up the contract and send it over if you agree. The shop will be yours if I fail to repay on time. The Petal and Plume is bringing in close to a thousand pounds a year. In fact, I’ve been thinking of hiring another milliner, growing my profit margin substantially. I have the clients for it. As it is, I turn trade away. I would go to a bank, but they’d laugh me out of the lobby, as you well know.”
Pemberly snorted and slapped his knee. “That trivial twit of a ship is making a thousand a year? By God, I should get those silly offspring of mine sewing fripperies this minute! You clearly acquired your business acumen from me. Your mother lost money every blasted year.”
Clarissa scooted to the edge of the settee, her hands trembling around her cup. “Will you agree?” She knew, despite his protestations, that he could well afford the risk, or shewouldn’t have asked. “My offer is more than you’ll make on any solid investment.”
He grinned, showing a set of stained teeth, happiest when he had her over a barrel. “Desperate for cash, are you?”
He was going to do it. She knew by the bombastic expression on his face. Sitting back, relief washed over her, mitigating the burn to her pride. Knox DeWitt was worth every hint of pain. “I wouldn’t say desperate. The funds are actually for my dowry.” She decided to tell him because he would, along with the rest of theton, find out about Knox eventually. It was too bad she wouldn’t see his face when he did.
Pemberly choked on his tea, a little dribble running down his chin. Scrubbing it away, he chortled. “Dowry? Dear girl, what have you gotten yourself into? Oh,thissounds like your mother,” he had the gall to add.
“The man in question has enterprises of his own, substantial ones, to consider. It’s quite common for the marriage to bring assets from the woman’s side.”
He shook his head sadly. “Not in your class, it isn’t. Most of you marry for love or some such ridiculousness. Our agreements are more contractual. Is that what you’re contemplating?”
She only shrugged, not about to tell him anything factual.
He frowned, sending a deep furrow between his brows. “Why would I do this?”
Ah, there it is. Clarissa shook the wrinkles from her skirt before looking him dead in the eye. Those familiar, gray eyes. “Because you owe me. For the times we didn’t have enough food or clean clothing or medical care. For the birthdays you missed, all of them, I seem to recall. For the promises you made and didn’t deliver upon. Which mattered very much to a child. For my mother’s tears and melancholy. Her years of defeat.” She held up her hand when he started to argue. “Those are the reasons youshoulddo it. The reason you will is because, if youdon’t, I’ll run an advertisement in the next issue ofThe Timesfor my shop, stating exactly where my pedigree lies. It won’t hurt my business if they know I’m of Pemberly stock. I could potentially add three new milliners with my new clientele.”
His face reddened to the point of eruption. “A scandal of this sort will ruin my daughter’s chances! And I need to rid myself of them.”
“Knowingyourclass, I’d have to agree.” She tilted her head, tapping her finger to her lips. “I’ll also add that this stipulation is in place if you ever discuss what we’ve agreed to this day. No matter who I marry, not onewordof this arrangement is to be mentioned. If I find it has, that advertisement will be printed faster than you can blink.”
Furious, he shoved to his feet. “Why the hell would I want to publicize my by-blow’s marriage to a dockworker or a fishmonger?”
Clarissa laughed then, unable to call it back. “I have no idea.”
“I’ll have my banker contact you tomorrow,” he growled, storming across the parlor. With a low curse, he paused in the doorway. “If my legitimate children had your spunk, I’d be father-in-law to an earl, possibly a duke. I might even be dining at Carlton House with Prinny.”
More amused with each word he uttered, Clarissa watched him go, her leaden past trotting off with him.
CHAPTER 7
WHERE A COUPLE FIND THEIR WAY
Clarissa arrived at her cottage just after midnight to find a slumbering duke sprawled across her sofa. In fact, he was close to sliding off the piece and tumbling to the floor.