A Little Bit Sinful(19)

The second course was served and while that occurred, Ella leaned close to Clarissa’s other ear. “Now tell me more about Mr. Rodale.”

“There is nothing to tell. He is a friend of the family,” Clarissa said, but even she wasn’t so convinced by the words.

“I wish he were a friend of my family.”

…

After dinner they retired to the parlor and Vivian invited Clarissa to play the harpsichord. Clarissa took a seat at the instrument. Justin stood against the wall, behind the chair where Clarissa had been sitting. He watched her as she splayed her fingers across the keys. She began to play. Her body moved over the keys and the music that poured from her fingers was sheer perfection. Her eyes closed and she felt each note of the piece. Mozart, if he wasn’t mistaken. She pretended as if passion was beneath her, as if feeling strongly was something only the lower classes felt, but he could see right here, right now, in front of everyone that she was passionate about music.

He smiled. It was a starting point.

She continued playing, the notes surrounded the room and no one spoke, everyone watched her, raptly attentive to her playing. Her long fingers nimbly moved against the keys quickly and she leaned forward chewing on her lip. Ladies were supposed to sit straight and play for the entertainment of those in the room. But Clarissa played for herself, Justin could clearly see that, because she loved the music, she felt it. Now he understood why she’d looked longingly at some of the displays at the museum the other night.

Finally the song came to an end and the small room burst with applause, which brought forth a most brilliant smile from Clarissa.

Marcus’s cousins stood and said their goodbyes.

Clarissa returned to her seat and Justin nodded to her.

“You play beautifully,” he leaned in and whispered.

“Thank you.”

“Passionately.”

She whipped her head around to focus on him. She opened her mouth to say something, but words seemed to fail her.

“Merely an observation,” he said with a shrug.

“Yes, well you do not need to say every thought that enters your head.”

He let his gaze wander to her bosom for several breaths, watching her breasts rise and fall, then he slowly looked back at her face. “Believe me when I tell you I do not say every thought in my head.”

She said nothing in return, but the rapid rise and fall of her breasts as her breathing sped said enough.

“Mr. Rodale, a word if you don’t mind,” Vivian said.

“Clarissa, it’s been a pleasure.” He bent over her hand, but did not kiss it. Then he turned and followed Vivian into the corridor. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no of course not. I merely wanted to discuss something with you. You are well aware of my, well, that is to say you know of the ways in which I can assist people,” Vivian said.

“I was under the impression that when you married Marcus you had ceased the life of The Paragon,” Justin said. Just months before she had been known as such in London. A woman families could go to in the midst of scandal and she would devise a plan to bury said scandal beneath the proverbial rug. She had done so for Clarissa.

Vivian smiled. “Yes, I had intended that once the truth about my past was revealed that no one would seek my services again. But it would seem that I was incorrect in that estimate.”

“You have a new client, then?”

“It would seem so. Perhaps not as tricky a situation as I’ve handled in the past, but a puzzle to be solved nonetheless. The mother of a young woman has sought my assistance in a predicament. Her daughter does not garner the attention of men.”

Justin frowned. “My apologies, Vivian, but what does this have to do with me?”

“Yes, I was just getting to that part. You were so very helpful with the situation with Clarissa, reintroducing yourself into Society to be seen publically with her and Marcus. Your presence made it all the more believable that her little visit to your establishment was nothing more than a personal invitation, even if poorly thought out. In any case, I was telling Marcus that all this girl needs is for a man to show interest in her. Some men simply need permission, if you will, from another man that declares that a woman is desirable.”

“I’m still not following.”

“I want you to court her.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Of course it wouldn’t be a real courtship, she would know your intentions were not sincere. You would merely appear to be courting her so that perhaps another man would step forward and take an interest in her.”