A Little Bit Sinful(57)

Some women could bounce back from these situations. They might live a bit on the edge of Society, but they became mistresses, well cared for ladies who picked lovers based on the sorts of gifts they could receive. But she could never be one of those ladies. She simply wasn’t sophisticated enough for that. So she could decide right now to be a spinster or to be Mrs. Rodale, the wife of the bastard son of the Duke of Chanceworth. She hated even thinking that way. She didn’t consider Justin’s birthright. He certainly proved to be nobler and more gentlemanly than George ever had.

“Clarissa, this is your decision. Whatever you decide,” Vivian said.

They weren’t going to make her marry him. She looked over at Justin. She could have done much worse for herself, and at least she knew one thing—she would never think of the duties in the marriage bed as tasks to be endured because she desired Justin with every fiber of her being.

“Yes, I will marry you.”

…

The following morning, Vivian pulled Clarissa aside as she came down the stairs.

“Your brother is still asleep, but I should like to have a conversation with you,” Vivian said.

“Thank you,” Clarissa said.

“Let’s sit in the front parlor.” Vivian grabbed Clarissa’s arm.

In such a short amount of time Vivian had become like a sister to her. She hugged her tightly. She missed Rebecca and her guidance. More than likely had she still been living Clarissa would never have gotten herself into such a mess. Perhaps if she had counseled with Vivian, she would have listened.

They walked into the parlor and Vivian sat on the settee. “I suspected you might want to talk a little. About what happened.”

Clarissa sat. “I’m not certain there’s anything to discuss. I made a poor choice and now must live with the consequences. A series of poor choices, actually.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Clarissa nodded. “I don’t suppose I have anything to hide anymore.”

“Do you love George?”

“No, I don’t. I thought I did at one time, but I think I was trying to convince myself that I loved it.”

“Then why so determined to marry him?”

Clarissa recounted the story about Rebecca.

Vivian nodded and gave Clarissa a warm smile. “So you believed your own judgment not good enough?”

“It never was.” Clarissa shook her head. She told Vivian about Christopher, a story she knew Vivian would understand more than anyone else. “So you see, my own judgment has always gotten me in trouble.” She released a short laugh. “I suppose that is precisely what happened here too.”

Vivian patted Clarissa on the knee. “You were trying to do what you thought was best. It would seem that George pretended to be a good man whereas Justin is a good man. There is a difference.”

Justin was a good man, an honorable man. Why had it taken her so long to see that herself? Well, she knew it now, would be reminded it of it every day. She’d be his wife. A wife he never loved. She took a deep breath. “Then I suppose it is for the best that Justin and I are to be married.”

“He will make you happy in a way George never could,” Vivian said.

Clarissa knew that that was the utter truth. Yet at the same time Justin could do something to her that George never could—break her heart. But there was nothing to be done about that now.

“Thank you for talking to me,” Vivian said.

For so long she’d been certain she would have made George a good wife. Obviously, the bond between them hadn’t been enough to change him. It hadn’t been enough to change her, not in the way that her relationship with Justin had changed her. No, George Wilbanks would never be her husband.

Instead, she would be Mrs. Justin Rodale.

…

One day later she was a married woman.

She and her new husband stood on the sidewalk waiting for their carriage. The few friends and family members who had attended the brief ceremony had already departed. Clarissa hadn’t wanted a party. At least not yet. She didn’t deserve one.

The weight of the ring on her finger felt foreign. She looked down at the band encircling her finger. It was beautiful with the filigree details and the fiery opal stone at the center.

“Do you like it?” Justin asked.

Clarissa looked up at him, slightly embarrassed he’d caught her staring at the bauble. “I do. Very much.”