A Little Bit Sinful(38)

“Yes, but I am a bastard. People would expect such things from me.” He shrugged. “But I will leave her alone. I do not want to lose her patronage. She is one of the more interesting ones.”





Chapter Eight


They stood in silence, looking out at the night sky. He hadn’t denied anything she’d said about him courting Betsy Riverton. And she wasn’t certain he’d taken her completely serious when she’d suggested he court her. She wasn’t even certain where that had come from. It had seemed like the best suggestion, though. She wouldn’t get hurt. This was Justin, he was a friend and nothing more.

Despite her obvious attraction to him, she shouldn’t develop any certain feelings toward him. He was not the sort of man Rebecca would have chosen for her. Clarissa needed to keep that in mind. Especially since she’d just proposed a scenario that would require the two of them spend more time together.

He looked over, gave her a half smile. “I have discovered some information on George. You wanted me to tell you.”

She grabbed a handful of her skirts, bunching the fabric, then thought better of it and smoothed it out again. “I can tell from your tone that you are not pleased with what you discovered.”

He eyed her for a moment, then was quiet for several more before he finally spoke. “I shall make a bargain with you.”

She nodded unsure of what he would ask of her.

“Cease your obsession with George Wilbanks.”

Her breath caught. Was he suggesting that he wished to replace George in her mind, in her favor? As wrong as it might be, she knew there was a part of her that hoped so. “I am not obsessed. I am merely dedicated to the notion of marrying him. He would be a good husband for me.”

“No,” Justin shook his head, “a viscount would be a good match for you, but not him.”

“I am not so certain.”

“I can prove to you that he is the wrong sort of man for you.”

His words rang with truth, and she knew she’d be inclined to believe him. But to do so would be to ignore the advice of the one person who had done her best to steer Clarissa in the right direction. “Precisely how can you do that?”

“I can take you to Rafferty’s.”

“I don’t think I know what that means,” she said.

“It’s another gaming hell. One on the banks of the Thames, next to the docks,” he said.

She gasped. “You can do no such thing. I would be ruined.” Though obviously she was already ruined. Still, to go to such a place with him, without a chaperone, it would be a blow to her reputation from which she could never recover.

“We could go without anyone seeing you.”

She considered his offer. She was curious, she couldn’t deny that.

“Chrissy, it’s important. You need to know the truth about this man before you agree to marry him.”

He was quite serious and his demeanor made her nervous. Anticipation fluttered to life in her stomach. “When?”

“Tonight. Do you think you can sneak out of your house without your brother or aunt being the wiser?”

Her heart thundered at the idea of sneaking out again. She’d done so on a handful of occasions recently and the adventure never ceased to thrill her. That old familiar pull toward adventure was a temptation she’d had to fight her entire life. Rebecca had helped her with that when she’d been alive, but since her death, Clarissa had battled on her own. “I don’t know.”

“It’s your choice. But I do know that you won’t believe me, you won’t believe the truth about your beloved George unless you see it with your own eyes,” Justin said.

She realized with alarming clarity that this entire conversation had been about George. Somehow she’d been so lost in idea of an adventure that she’d forgotten what it was all about. He knew something about George that would change her mind about pursuing him for her husband. She supposed she should go into the marriage with her eyes open. “Very well, I accept your invitation. What time shall I be ready?”

…

Soon Clarissa would be with him, ensconced in a darkened carriage as they drove London to the dirtier part of town. She hadn’t asked him anything about the night in her bedchamber, instead she’d jested with him, flirted. And then she’d asked him to court her, an obvious reaction to seeing him with another woman. Still he knew that Chrissy didn’t know what she asked of him. He could easily pretend to be interested in another girl, but to pretend to court her, he couldn’t do that and know he’d never have her. So he’d changed the subject.