Chapter 7

R upert felt much more the thing as he headed down to dinner. Six hours of sleep in a proper bed had worked wonders on his back and neck, to say nothing of his disposition. Add in some good nosh, and he would be back to his cheerful self in no time flat.

As he reached the bottom of the staircase, he heard a thump from behind the curtain of a little alcove in the entryway. Rupert frowned. It was probably nothing, but considering the reason he was here, it probably behooved him to make sure there wasn’t an assassin lurking in there with a gun.

Creeping up to the alcove, he whipped the tapestried curtain open…

… and Clarissa Weatherby gasped as she wheeled around, one hand flying to her heart.

Just like that, Rupert’s head went all muddly… well, more muddly than it usually was. Blimey . Clarissa Weatherby was gorgeous . Suddenly, the notion that he might have married this woman seemed even more ridiculous. What on earth would this stunning creature want with the likes of him ?

It occurred to Rupert that he should say something rather than stand there gaping at her. “Sorry, I thought I heard something. You look beautiful, by the by.”

For some reason, her face fell upon hearing this compliment. “Thank you,” she muttered.

Rupert cleared his throat. “May I escort you in to dinner?”

She considered it for a beat. “That’s probably a good idea.” At his confused look, she added, “There’s bound to be some gossip with the two of us in attendance. If we are seen behaving civilly toward one another from the start, hopefully, that will set the tone.”

“Just so.” Rupert offered his arm. “Shall we, then?”

Rupert led her toward the blue and white parlor where the de Roos family usually gathered before dinner.

“You seem to know your way around the castle,” Clarissa noted. “I take it you are good friends with the de Roos family?”

“Oh, yes. I was at school with Lawrence, who’s the third son. Used to spend some of my school holidays here. Lovely people, absolutely lovely.”

“I met Lady Helmsley and Lady Emily today, and they do, indeed, seem very kind.”

Rupert glanced down at Clarissa. Her lips were set in a tight, thin line. “Do you not know many people here, then?”

“I do not,” she confirmed.

“I’ll introduce you around if you like,” Rupert offered.

She drew in a breath. “That would be very much appreciated.”

They attracted more than a few stares when they entered the room together. Which wasn’t surprising. But Clarissa kept her chin up, and as for Rupert, he was used to that sort of thing.

Rupert had a few people he was hoping to speak with tonight, but that could wait. He introduced Clarissa to the rest of the de Rooses, then to the Duchess of Kimbolton. He presented her to a couple of young ladies local to Helmsley—Miss Eliza Swanton and Miss Marianne Pickering.

Then, as luck would have it, he spied Oliver Baxter, the very reason he was here, standing nearby! Rupert knew him a little bit. They’d been at Oxford at the same time, but at different colleges.

Catching his eye, Rupert strode up. “Baxter, it’s deuced good to see you again. May I present Miss Clarissa Weatherby? Miss Weatherby, this is Mr. Oliver Baxter.”

Baxter bowed neatly over her hand. “How do you do, Miss Weatherby? Please allow me to introduce my wife, Rosalind, and my wife’s cousin, Miss Phyllis Cuthbert.”

While he made his bows, Rupert surreptitiously studied the trio. Baxter had always been a good-looking fellow in a bookish sort of way—brown hair, pale skin from spending all day in the library, sensitive poetical expression, soft hands, tweed waistcoats, that sort of thing. One thing was for certain, he looked remarkably calm, considering someone was trying to kill him. Of course, he hadn’t yet been informed that someone was definitely trying to kill him, so maybe that explained it.

His wife, on the other hand, looked drawn. Which might’ve been exhaustion from the carriage ride north, but Rupert rather thought it was worry creasing her brow, not fatigue. She had that shade of hair somewhere between brown and blonde and green eyes. Rupert was surprised, because he’d always heard that she was a great sportswoman, so he hadn’t expected her to be as thin and wan as she appeared. He supposed that went to show that you never knew.

As for Miss Cuthbert, she struck Rupert as the nervous sort and was wringing her gloved hands in a way that looked habitual. Rupert had heard she was a spinster, and she certainly dressed like one, with a grey dress that buttoned all the way up to her chin. But Rupert thought if someone would put her in a more flattering gown and do something with her dark brown hair other than twist it into a tight knot, she would’ve been as pretty as any woman in the room.

Well… he found his eyes straying to Clarissa Weatherby. Maybe not quite as pretty as every woman in the room. But downright handsome.

Rupert was about to see if he could worm anything useful out of them when Toddington announced that dinner was served.

Inside the great hall, Rupert surrendered Clarissa, who was seated on the opposite end of the table. He was seated between Lady Helmsley and Lady Emily.

He wouldn’t learn much of use there, but Rupert didn’t mind. He handed both ladies into their chairs and prepared to pass the meal in the company of two of his favorite people.