The Bride Absconded (closed for cumnchat)

Opinionated. Difficult to be with. Too smart for her own good. Strong-willed. Hardheaded.

Clarissa Fay Fernwood had heard it all. Heavens, she herself knew it to be true. Even as a child she had caused her father trouble. It was not that she wanted to be difficult. It was just that she knew herself to be right. And she knew what she wanted.

Now at 5'6", she had a slender but feminine build. Her hair, blonde and long enough to hit the middle of her back, hung in graceful waves when worn loose, though she had an irritating habit of pulling it back in a roll to keep it out of her face. Blue eyes were set in a face blessed with freckles. In fact, Clarissa had a plethora of freckles that covered her entire body, which was somewhat less than desirable in this day and age. Even though she was missing that peaches and cream complexion with nary a blemish aspired to by many a young English lady, she still managed to obtain her fair share of young men interested in her. Some even desired matrimony.

Yet, over and over, as her father had brought a possible suitor or a future husband before her, she would send the young man off with a flea in his ear. Time and time again, the sharp edge of her tongue would quickly cool any ardor the young man might have felt.

"Daughters are meant to marry, to leave their parents and provide their husband with heirs. Why do you not understand that?"

"I understand it, Father. I just refuse to accept it. I need not a man nor a husband to justify my existence. I am perfectly happy with life the way it is. I have my interests. So, leave me be, Father, for I plan on never marrying."

"Daughter, there will come the day when you will have no choice."

And so the argument would go, back and forth while yet another young man would leave, looking for a young lady less likely to give him a hard time.

Not long after her 20th birthday, there came a day when she was no longer given the option of saying yea or nay. Father called her in and introduced her to Sir Roger Decoverly. She watched warily as the man greeted her, a person comfortable in his own skin. She would get rid of him fast enough.

"We have an agreement, Daughter. A fortnight from now you will be married."

"No!" She was adamant.

"There is no discussion, Clarissa. The deal has been made. You have prolonged things long enough."

"And I no longer any choice in the matter?"

"You lost that when you became unreasonable!" Father and daughter fought as if the future bridegroom were not even in the room.

Clarissa glanced at him briefly. He looked fine, but she was not in the market for a husband. Granted, he was seated and as such, she could not be sure of his height, but he appeared tall and strong and well-built. He possessed hair the color of straw, shoulder length and tied back with a black ribbon, and slate grey eyes that spoke of intelligence. If she had been in the market for a husband, he would have worked just as well as anyone else. She could tell by the raised eyebrow that he was not impressed with her reaction.

"Then you marry the man!" She crossed over to the window, looking out. She wore her riding clothes, not minding that they were dusty and there was a grass stain on one elbow.


Clarissa Fay Fernwood
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Sir Roger DeCoverly listened to his future father-in-law and intended bride arguing with a sardonic smile on his face. His future wife's father was telling her that she had no choice in the matter and she adamant that she did would not marry anyone.

'Then you marry the man!'

Her father spluttered with rage while Roger burst out laughing and slapped his thigh heartily,

"Why, this the best entertainment I have had for many a long year, you squabble like two petulant children over myself as if I were not here, you do not even ask if I still want to marry this headstrong girl, after all this is the first time I have laid eyes on her and to be truthful I am not that impressed."

His eyes swept over her taking in every detail and from the look in his eye he was mentally undressing her.

"She has a certain beauty about her 'tis true, not a classical beauty by any stretch of the imagination but attractive all the same, it would seem her wit is as sharp as her tongue,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, 'Then you marry the man!',,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, indeed as if such a thought ever entered your father's head,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, oooh excuse my mirth."

He was laughing and eyeing Clarissa at the same time, she was silhouetted against the window with the sun behind her and this showed her womanly shape in outline.

"Perhaps you should explain to your firecracker of a daughter why she has to marry me, or would you prefer that I explain that if we are not wed in two weeks time this estate will become my property and with it all your belongings, by marrying your daughter to me you will keep control of your estate, even now I am not sure who is getting the best bargain, Clarissa and I should spend some time together to get to know each other. Shall we take a stroll in the garden?"

He got to his feet and his six foot plus frame towered over Clarissa as he took her arm and and tucked it under his own.

The man sat there laughing at her. Laughing at her! He dared to come into her house and expect her to bow and scrape as if she were grateful! The unmitigated gall of the man! Even she could see the way he eyed her, as if he already owned her or as if she were a piece of meat and he a starving man. And his description of her - ‘...not a classical beauty by any stretch of the imagination but attractive all the same...’ she knew that she was not pretty, yet no woman likes being reminded of it.

And meanwhile, her father stood nearby sputtering and sweating profusely like some poacher caught with a bag of dead pheasant. Something was up and she intended to find out exact what it was.

Perhaps you should explain to your firecracker of a daughter why she has to marry me, or would you prefer that I explain that if we are not wed in two weeks time this estate will become my property and with it all your belongings, by marrying your daughter to me you will keep control of your estate, even now I am not sure who is getting the best bargain, Clarissa and I should spend some time together to get to know each other. Shall we take a stroll in the garden?

The man stood and she found herself tilting her head back to look up at him. Ye Gods! The man was a giant. Without warning and much to her outrage, this Roger fellow took hold of her hand and tucked it within his arm. She quickly snatched it away and, despite the fact that he could easily harm her, refused to back down from the man.

“You sir, presume to take liberties where none are given. Father, if you...”

She had no chance to finish as suddenly her father grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the other side of the room.

“Clarissa, mind your tongue.”

“But Father, this man...”

“This man is correct.” She hushed, afraid of just what she might hear. “Sir DeCoverly will own this house and all its lands in a fortnight’s time.”

“Father?” The tine of her voice was ominous and her Father pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away the beads of perspiration that dotted his forehead.

“It was just a friendly game of cards and I had such a great hand. It’s just that Sir DeCoverly’s hand was better.”

“But you are not a card player. What ever possessed you to play such a game? And to put the house into the pot was unthinkable, Father. No! This cannot be. The whole thing must have been contrived.”

“Nevertheless, I am a gentleman and a gentleman does not welch on his word. If you are not wed to Sir Roger DeCoverly within a fortnight, then we shall be not only homeless but without a coin to our name.”

She turned to face DeCoverly, fury showing in her face. “What kind of gentleman are you? One that takes advantage of a man that plays unknowing of the rules of a game that he does not know how to play.” It was a lie yet she hoped that the bluff would make the man back down and let the debt be forgotten. It was probably a hopeless tactic but she had to try.

He was somewhat taken by surprise at the ferocity of her verbal attack on him but he recovered his composure and in his most condescending tone he told her the truth of the night that her father had gambled away first his money then his land and in a last desperate wager he had put up his daughter's hand in marriage. Sir Roger had tried to talk him out it but her father was insistent so Sir Roger had stipulated that if he won he would wait two weeks before staking his claim.

"That is the true story and it is not true that your father did not know the game, he has been a regular player for the past year and usually he is very steady and does not extend his limits, what entered his mind that night no one knows."

He crossed the room and took Clarissa's hand again, more firmly this time and walked her into the garden where he took her to the summer house and backed her up against a wall.

"Listen to me Clarissa, your father has doted on you and now you believe that you can get whatever you want by behaving like a petulant child,caring not whose feelings you hurt, well now you have met your match, I too go all out for what I want and I always get it, at this moment I am undecided about making you my wife but I am certain that I want to kiss you."
He pulled her close to him and claimed her lips in a long lingering kiss before he let her go.

"Yes, that was quite satisfactory, your kissing needs some work but by the time of our marriage you should be quite adept."
He left her standing rooted to the spot,

"I will call on you again tomorrow."

As she stood listening to this Sir DeCoverly speak, she was surprised to discover that Father had been a regular at the gaming tables. Not her Father, surely not. To put his own daughter into a wager for a few cards tore at her. That explained why Father had been distant for the past couple of weeks. How could he do this?

It also hurt when she found out that Father was a regular at the gaming tables for the past year. He had managed to hide his secret life from his daughter. Her eyes turned to Lord Fernwood and the man appeared ashamed to look his daughter in the eyes and quickly found the pattern of the rug most interesting.

She was caught off guard when Sir Roger crossed that room in several large strides and forcefully took hold of her hand yet again. She tried to again snatch it away but this time he had anticipated her reaction and refused to release her hand. Without another word, he led her outside as if they were taking a stroll out in the gardens.

This was all too much. First, she finds out that her Father had been gambling, that he had lost not only the house and lands to this upstart but had also promised her hand in marriage, or else they both would be turned out of their family home with only the clothes on their backs. Now this Sir Roger was escorting her around her own lands as if they were his.

Once they reached the Summer House, he turned and backed her against the wall. Because of his height, she felt overwhelmed with nowhere to go. This Sir Roger was head and shoulders above her, looking down on her, determination in his eyes.

Listen to me Clarissa, your father has doted on you and now you believe that you can get whatever you want by behaving like a petulant child, caring not whose feelings you hurt, well now you have met your match, I too go all out for what I want and I always get it, at this moment I am undecided about making you my wife but I am certain that I want to kiss you.

Her eyes widened in shock. She had just met the man, and having been informed that she had no choice but to marry the stranger, now he demanded a kiss.

And indeed he took it, pulling her up against him and pressing his lips to hers. It was not her first kiss ever, though usually they were followed by a sharp slap to the young man’s cheek. But for once, her senses were overwhelmed as the kiss seemed to continue beyond the space of time that proprietary dictated. In fact, she felt enveloped in the warmth of his body.

Yes, that was quite satisfactory, your kissing needs some work but by the time of our marriage you should be quite adept. I will call on you again tomorrow.

And then he was gone leaving her leaning against the outer wall of the summerhouse feeling a bit faint. Stunned, she watched him leave as his words echoed in her head. I will call on you again tomorrow.

Not if she had her way!

*****

She had spent the rest of the day trying to find out what she could about this Sir Roger DeCoverly but her father really knew very little about the man.

Nevertheless, she was determined that she was not going to be some mealy mouth woman that merely sat around and did what any man said.

Bright and early she dressed in her riding outfit and headed to the stables. There Thunder waited for her, his whinny a greeting to her. After quickly saddling the black stallion, she swung up in the saddle and turned her horse towards the rolling hillsides and dug her heels into his sides. Soon she was gone, heading for her favorite spot in a private glen.

Once there, she slid off Thunder’s back and sat down under the tree. This was her favorite spot to think and she didn’t worry about the grass stains on her clothes or the stray hairs that had worked themselves loose and blew around in the gentle breeze that came off of the small pond.

Sir Roger was deep in thought as he rode home after his meeting with Lord Fernwood and his daughter Clarissa. Initially the card game had been just for fun but Lord Fernwood had been having a run of good fortune and insisted that they play for high stakes, it was then that Lord Fernwood's good luck ran out and as he lost again and again, he became more desperate and reckless, ending when he offered his daughter's hand in marriage as his final wager, he had nothing else to offer. Sir Roger had tried to dissuade him from the wager but his opponent was adamant so Sir Roger had accepted it with the stipulation that the marriage should take place in two weeks time. He'd had no intention of actually marrying the girl, he had avoided marriage like the plague for most of his eleven years since his eighteenth birthday.

However, having met Clarissa he found her intriguing and most unlike any other woman he had met and bedded. The kiss he had stolen from her was sweet and fresh, although she had not returned it she had not ranted and raved at him for his audacity. He ran his tongue over his lips the taste of her still lingered there.

The next morning he took exceptional care with his appearance as he wanted to appear appealing to Clarissa although he was under no illusions about the difficulty of getting her to be a willing partner in their forthcoming marriage. His fears were confirmed when upon arrival he was informed that Clarissa had gone riding and no one knew where she might be.

"If no one can tell me where I can find the young madam then I will find her myself and tell her how rude she has been by going off when she knew I would be calling on her, at the very least she should have said where she was going."

"I do not know for certain Sir Roger but she was often fond of a small glen by the lake about a mile distant to the South." was the best that Lord Fernwood could offer.

"Then I will seek her there, if she returns while I am gone be firm with her if you dare and tell her to wait until I return."

He mounted his steed and rode hard in the direction he had been given, the small copse of trees came into view and through the trees the sunlight sparkled of the small lake the gentle breeze causing the surface to ripple and the sunlight danced on the small waves. Even from some distance he could sense the tranquility of the spot and was sure that Clarissa would be there. He dismounted and left his mount to graze while he silently walked the last hundred yards in order to surprise Clarissa. He spotted her sat on a grassy bank overlooking the lake hugging her knees. Her hair was not quite in disarray but a few tendrils had come loose and waved lazily around her face.

Silently he stood behind her, hidden by a tree then he startled her,

"You have chosen a most idyllic and romantic spot to continue our courtship Clarissa. I commend your choice for we can be alone with no interruptions."

He was deliberately riling her and her emotions wanting to see if she would accept the spanking she deserved for trying to avoid him.

The gentle breeze played around her face and cooled down the anger that had risen the harder she had ridden Thunder. The horse had been born on the estate and had attached itself to her practically from the moment it wobbled in its legs. She loved the horse and it seemed to know her moods better than her own Father, when she was happy, when she was sad. Today, she had given him his head and he brought her here to her favorite place.

As she sat on the grass, hugging her knees and wondering how her life had managed to suddenly fall apart. She had no plans to ever marry, but rather continue her life as she wished.

Yet suddenly, in one day’s time, she learned that her Father had managed to gamble away everything. Even her precious Thunder.

You have chosen a most idyllic and romantic spot to continue our courtship Clarissa. I commend your choice for we can be alone with no interruptions.

She was caught off guard by his words and jumped to her feet, angry at having her solitude interrupted.

“And you are no gentleman to intrude upon a lady’s privacy. Your actions yesterday are proof of that.” She quickly picked up her crop from where she had thrown it on the ground when she had dismounted. She did not raise it yet the implications were obvious. She would defend herself.

“I suggest that you leave.” She stood her ground, determined not to show any of the fear and uncertainty that suddenly filled her. The man that stood before her was disturbingly handsome and irritatingly at ease and she suddenly wanted to be back on Thunder, attempting to ride further away. She glanced to see just where the animal stood, trying to gauge whether she could reach the horse and get away.

Sir Roger chuckled at the audacious courage of the woman, here she was alone with a man twice her size and yet she was standing up to him yet he could see her weighing up her chances of reaching her horse which he recognised as being an exceptional animal and one that he wish to own himself.

'I suggest that you leave.'

She SUGGESTED that he leave, she didn't demand or plead, he had an answer for her,

"I would be no gentleman if I left you here all alone and defenceless, why, any man could come upon you and force himself on you, no, I could not do that, it is my duty to stay and keep you company."

He sensed her edging closer to her steed and he knew that if she managed to get on it she would be gone and he would have no chance of catching her. He pursed his lips as if to whistle but no discernible sound came out, however his own mount trotted into the clearing and came up to him and nuzzled his hand and he made a show of whispering into the mare's ear but loud enough for Clarissa to hear,

"If I coax that fine looking stallion over here can you occupy him for a while why I speak to his mistress?"

Again he pursed his lips and the black stallion's ears pricked and he slowly ambled over to Sir Roger and his mare, the two horses eyed each other and whinnied softly before gently touching noses.

"You see Clarissa our respective mounts can be friends can we not at least copy them and have an adult conversation? By the by what is the stallion's name? I would imagine that if you named him it would be something that stirs the blood, something that follows your nature, like STORM, but no, that is too general, not specific like LIGHTNING, but lightning is generally white so that would not fit, however storm clouds are dark and heavy and full of Thunder, yes that would suit you both well indeed, pray tell me I am correct and that his name is THUNDER."

While he spoke he edged closer to Clarissa and when close enough he wrested the riding crop from her hand and snapped it in two like a twig.

"I suspect that you respect him too much to have ever used it on him, one can see that he also respects you, I am not one to split up good relationships so you may like to know that he will still be yours after we are married. Now sit down and I will tell you about myself. Or perhaps you would prefer to talk about yourself?"

Sir Roger lay on the grassy bank and pulled Clarissa down to sit beside him.

I would be no gentleman if I left you here all alone and defenceless, why, any man could come upon you and force himself on you, no, I could not do that, it is my duty to stay and keep you company.

If she could work her way a bit closer to Thunder, then she could make her escape for no horse could hold a candle to Thunder’s speed. She was quite proud of him. Suddenly a mare entered the clearing and crossed over to Sir Roger. He made a big deal about talking to the horse but she noted that the mare was not near as fine as Thunder.

Still, she was angry when her horse walked over to him and his mare, leaving her high and dry. She gritted her teeth, frustrated.

You see Clarissa our respective mounts can be friends can we not at least copy them and have an adult conversation? By the by what is the stallion's name? I would imagine that if you named him it would be something that stirs the blood, something that follows your nature, like STORM, but no, that is too general, not specific like LIGHTNING, but lightning is generally white so that would not fit, however storm clouds are dark and heavy and full of Thunder, yes that would suit you both well indeed, pray tell me I am correct and that his name is THUNDER.

She had no intention of telling him if he was right or wrong. Father had probably told him where to find her and that she was riding Thunder, the double traitor. She was deeply disappointed in him. If fact, last night she had eaten in her room for she was afraid that had she shared the table with him, she would utter words that would stand between them forever. As it was, she knew that she could not trust anything that he said.

Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist and though she fought him, he seemed too easily to take the riding crop from her hand before breaking it in two.

I suspect that you respect him too much to have ever used it on him, one can see that he also respects you, I am not one to split up good relationships so you may like to know that he will still be yours after we are married. Now sit down and I will tell you about myself.

Before she could run, he had pulled her back down beside him in the grass. The grin on his face was irritating and her skin seemed to burn where he had touched her. The effect that he was having on her bothered her. Her heart was beating like crazy.

What would you like to know ?

“I would never use a crop on Thunder. I have too much respect for him. Unlike some that I could name. How do I get rid of you?” She turned away from him and looked out across the lake. Her life was falling apart. She was afraid to even look at him so she kept her back to him. She had to marry him or both her and her father would be homeless.

“So, Sir DeCoverly, what is it that you wish me to know about you?

' So, Sir DeCoverly, what is it that you wish me to know about you?'

Clarissa hadn't entirely blocked him from her mind even though she turned her back and gazed out over the lake and he quickly took advantage of this, he held her shoulders and turned to face him and with a slight smile on his face he said,

"One of the first things you should know is that I never talk to the back of someone's head, if the person I am talking to cannot look me in the eye then rightly or wrongly I take it to mean they have something to hide, a fact or an emotion it doesn't matter which, in my opinion they are not being honest with me and I value honesty above all else."

His grip on her shoulders tightened and he drew her closer to him so their faces were almost touching and he breathed softly,

"What are you hiding from me Clarissa? It must be something that has happened between us since we met, it cannot be your displeasure at my finding you here as you have already made it clear that you do not welcome me. The only other thing of consequence is the beautiful kiss that I stole from you yesterday, does the memory linger as it does with me? I would claim another if I thought it would please you."

His lips moved closer to hers until they were almost touching then his tongue snaked out to lick at her lips then he pulled back and let go of her.

"If you wish to answer me, look me in the eye so I may see the truth of what you say."

Suddenly, his hands were on her shoulders, turning her to face him. Once again she was up close to him, his hands on her shoulders seemed to make her skin tingle even though her clothes prevented actual skin to skin contact. His gaze was intense, those steel grey eyes that seemed to bore straight into her soul, seeking her secrets.

One of the first things you should know is that I never talk to the back of someone's head, if the person I am talking to cannot look me in the eye then rightly or wrongly I take it to mean they have something to hide, a fact or an emotion it doesn't matter which, in my opinion they are not being honest with me and I value honesty above all else.

Closer and closer he pulled her to him. His grip on her shoulders was firm giving her no chance of escaping. She was close enough to see that there were little flecks of dark blue in his steel grey eyes.

What are you hiding from me Clarissa? It must be something that has happened between us since we met, it cannot be your displeasure at my finding you here as you have already made it clear that you do not welcome me. The only other thing of consequence is the beautiful kiss that I stole from you yesterday, does the memory linger as it does with me? I would claim another if I thought it would please you.

Yes, it did linger! Her lips still felt seared by his, burning into her memory. Kisses from past hopeful suitors had been tentative, sloppy, cold. But somehow his kiss had been different. Just thinking back to it caused a flush to her cheeks.

It did not seem possible that he could get closer. Already as he spoke, his voice was so low that it could have been imagined by her. Yet closer still he drew her until they practically shared the same breath before he licked her lips with his tongue, as if tasting a sweet. Then he released her and moved away, still facing her as he leaned back on the grass.

Her heart was fairly pounding in her breast and she feared that he might could hear the noise. He talked of marriage as if it were a sure thing where yesterday his words included the word ‘if’. What had changed his mind? Or had it really changed at all?

If you wish to answer me, look me in the eye so I may see the truth of what you say.

There was hesitation on her part. Perhaps it would be better not to know the truth. No, if he answered her question, then she would know better what to prepare for. But knowledge also can bring heartache. Just the knowledge of what her Father had done in itself hurt.

His eyes never left her. She had never felt true fear, yet at this moment she came close. She slowly lifted her shoulders and faced him squarely. If she knew the worst, then she could escape at the right time.

“Very well. Sir DeCoverly, why should you want to marry me when you could merely wait, refuse my hand, and still have Fernwood and its lands and not be saddled with a father-in-law that apparently gambles too much and a wife that causes trouble. Oh. I know that I am actually more trouble than I am worth. In fact, I am quite sure that I can name almost half a dozen young ladies that would consider it an honor to become your wife. You certainly will not gain any standing in social circles tied to someone such as me. I'm sure that I have scandalized anyone who is anyone. Lady Agatha Monteith called me an 'abomination to true English Womanhood'. You could certainly find a woman possessing that ‘classical beauty’ that you so desire.”

That last sentence was acidic remark thrown back in his face. She knew that she was not beautiful. All her life she had been told that if only she had not been cursed with freckles. Devil’s marks. Witches curse. She had heard all the names for them and had learned not to let it bother her.

And so she waited, watching him to see just how he would answer her.

' Very well. Sir DeCoverly, why should you want to marry me when you could merely wait, refuse my hand, and still have Fernwood and its lands and not be saddled with a father-in-law that apparently gambles too much and a wife that causes trouble. Oh. I know that I am actually more trouble than I am worth. In fact, I am quite sure that I can name almost half a dozen young ladies that would consider it an honor to become your wife. You certainly will not gain any standing in social circles tied to someone such as me. I'm sure that I have scandalized anyone who is anyone. Lady Agatha Monteith called me an 'abomination to true English Womanhood'. You could certainly find a woman possessing that ‘classical beauty’ that you so desire.'

Sir Roger looked deep into her blue eyes and saw no sign of deception, no looking away in discomfort which all but the most accomplished tellers of falsehoods did, although they gave themselves away in other ways, twisting a finger, blinking, all telltale signs of a liar, he saw none of these. He accepted that what she said was what she believed to be the truth, even though some parts were so outrageous. He took her hand in his and held it firmly yet gently and leaned in again so his lips almost brushed hers.

"Clarissa you have made so many assumptions about me most of which are false, you have said what you believe to be the truth but you have avoided answering the one question that I dearly want an answer to, so I will repeat myself which is not something I am accustomed to................ Do you wish me to kiss you again?"

He looked into the depths of her eyes and saw her pupils dilate with surprise, he recognized her inner turmoil but did not press her but waited for her to compose herself before she answered,

"Why would I not wish to marry you? They say many things about beauty such as 'beauty is only skin deep' which certainly applies to any so-called ladies that I know, they are beautiful on the outside but below the surface they are devious and continually scheming ways to obtain another jewel from a doting suitor or husband. It is also said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I find your freckles interesting and the pallor of the fresh faced fillies that you assume clamour around me is not to my taste at all. I do not seek social standing for its own sake I treat all men and women as my equals, this Lady Monteith that you speak of is certainly one to be avoided and her opinions disregarded for clearly she doesn't know what she is talking about. ............ Now have you decided? Will my kiss be welcomed and returned? For assuredly I am going to kiss you anyway."

He gently held her hand as he leaned in again. His closeness was disturbing - she longed to jump up and run away. Why should this man have such an effect on her?

Clarissa you have made so many assumptions about me most of which are false, you have said what you believe to be the truth but you have avoided answering the one question that I dearly want an answer to, so I will repeat myself which is not something I am accustomed to................ Do you wish me to kiss you again?

Kiss her? Her heart beat faster. Suddenly she found herself torn. Half of her screamed ‘YES!’ And the other half of her cried out ‘NO!’ for fear that he would see just what that one kiss had done to her. Why should that one kiss upset her so? Why?

Why would I not wish to marry you? They say many things about beauty such as 'beauty is only skin deep' which certainly applies to any so-called ladies that I know, they are beautiful on the outside but below the surface they are devious and continually scheming ways to obtain another jewel from a doting suitor or husband. It is also said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I find your freckles interesting and the pallor of the fresh faced fillies that you assume clamour around me is not to my taste at all. I do not seek social standing for its own sake I treat all men and women as my equals, this Lady Monteith that you speak of is certainly one to be avoided and her opinions disregarded for clearly she doesn't know what she is talking about. ............ Now have you decided? Will my kiss be welcomed and returned? For assuredly I am going to kiss you anyway.

And why would yet another kiss do her in. She had never been one to worry about what others thought. In fact, she had always done what she wanted to do and everyone else could go to the devil. Yet somehow, this...this man and his actions did something to her. Made her unsure of herself. Made her want to run, to climb in the saddle and whisper in Thunder’s ear to take her to the ends of the earth.

“I think that should not be wise, Sir DeCoverly.”

He gazed into her eyes, his, steely grey and hers, wide and blue as the sky. He could see the uncertainty that lay within them and her words confirmed his thoughts.

'“I think that should not be wise, Sir DeCoverly.'

Smiling, he placed his and behind her head and pulled her head closer until his breath barely escaped his lips before it caressed her soft ruby lips,

"And why would that not be wise Clarissa? Would you be tempted to bite me or would you return my kiss? Your eyes tell me that you are uncertain of how you would respond, surely it would be best to allow yourself to be kissed and then decide or deny yourself and wonder what might have been?"

He applied pressure to the back of her head, his hand tangled in her hair and their lips met. Clarissa's lips were soft as a pillow filled with down and he felt her tense as the kiss continued, he held her to him, continuing the kiss until she pulled away gasping for breath.

"That kiss was even sweeter than the one I stole from you yesterday, that you cannot deny. By the by did you know that you are blushing? Your freckles darken when you blush."

He released her head and sat back, looking her over, committing to memory her trim figure that was not completely disguised by her riding habit.

"Is there more which you wish to know? Or maybe you have something to divulge to me, perhaps the reason why you reject my courtship or are afraid to accept it. Let me put your mind at rest in one regard, I would not want to change you in any way once we are married, I admire your spirit and I would enjoy the daily challenge of trying to tame that spirit without diminishing it in any way."

He helped her to her feet and asked with a twinkle in his eye,

"So you do not take it into your pretty head to gallop off on Thunder and leave me trailing behind you, I would consider it a great honour if I could ride him myself, even though I am sure he would rather be between your thighs than mine."

As if taming a cobra, DeCoverly moved slowly but with deliberate intent as his hand reached around to the back of her head. Pulling her close to him, he stopped short of the kiss and spoke softly to her.

And why would that not be wise Clarissa? Would you be tempted to bite me or would you return my kiss? Your eyes tell me that you are uncertain of how you would respond, surely it would be best to allow yourself to be kissed and then decide or deny yourself and wonder what might have been?

There was no question. She was going to be kissed. More pressure on the back of her head closed the space between them as his lips claimed hers. This time it was not a simple kiss. This time was an overwhelming sense as the kiss deepened. This was no kiss of civility, made in front of others for the sake of propriety. This was something more, something drawing her deeper to him.

Fighting back, she tried pulling away from him. When finally he released her she gasped for air. This kiss was like no other kiss that she had ever had - a kiss that seemed to look down into her soul. There was a snide grin on his face as if the man was proud of himself and her fingers itched to slap that grin off of his face.

That kiss was even sweeter than the one I stole from you yesterday, that you cannot deny. By the by did you know that you are blushing? Your freckles darken when you blush.

His eyes bored into her, seeming to see everything, even the things that she tried to hide. And this man planned on marrying her? How could her father have done such a despicable thing to her.

Is there more which you wish to know? Or maybe you have something to divulge to me, perhaps the reason why you reject my courtship or are afraid to accept it. Let me put your mind at rest in one regard, I would not want to change you in any way once we are married, I admire your spirit and I would enjoy the daily challenge of trying to tame that spirit without diminishing it in any way.

His hand was large and strong as he stood and took her hand to pull her to her feet. She managed to extricate her hand from his and put some distance between the two of them.

So you do not take it into your pretty head to gallop off on Thunder and leave me trailing behind you, I would consider it a great honour if I could ride him myself, even though I am sure he would rather be between your thighs than mine.

“No!” She paused, recognizing first that her answer was rude, and second, he somehow knew that that was exactly what she wished to do. She had understood his double entendres about being between her thighs and chose to ignore it.

“Thunder allows only me to ride him. Oh, do not worry for I shall not ride off without you. At least, not this time.”

She moved quickly to Thunder’s side. The horse gave a soft whinny and nudged her and she pet his nose before quickly climbing in his saddle.

“Nobody but me rides Thunder.” But she waited for Sir DeCoverly, out of politeness if nothing else.

As they rode back Sir Roger hung back a little so he could admire the view of Clarissa's cute rear bouncing up and down in the saddle, her riding habit stretched tight across the two firm globes of her backside.

As if just making conversation he remarked,

"You have a fine seat Clarissa my dear, just made for riding and I hope that when we are married you will ride me in the same manner."

Then he chuckled,

"If you are not familiar with the act then I will gladly teach you."

With that, he fell silent and let his words sink in and let her mull them over in her mind and he saw her naked body in his mind's eye mounting him in readiness. He kept that image in his mind and became more certain than ever that he wanted Clarissa to become his bride.

Lord Fernwood was fawning and apologetic for his daughter's rudeness by not waiting for Sir Roger to attend on her.

"There is no need for apologies my good man, I enjoyed the ride and Clarissa and I soon got to know one another quite well, did we not my dear? As the day draws closer I would like to get to know her even better so we may enjoy our honeymoon in bliss."

He grinned cheekily at Clarissa and took her hand possessively and firmly led her into the dining room for lunch. He ignored the empty chair opposite Clarissa at the table and instead sat down next to her and with a grin he put his hand on her knee under the table and squeezed.

On the ride back, it took every bit of willpower not to ride off and leave him in a cloud of dust. So when he spoke, she tried to ignore him.

You have a fine seat Clarissa my dear, just made for riding and I hope that when we are married you will ride me in the same manner.

Her face instantly blushed. She understood his meaning.

If you are not familiar with the act then I will gladly teach you.

She longed to slap his face but that was not possible as she rode ahead of him. Never had any man talked to her like this, and it left her conflicted. She felt outrage at such language and yet, deep inside of her was a stirring that she did not understand. Thankfully he did not speak anymore on the ride back to the estate.

She thought as she rode. Despite his flowery words and suggestive language, she had no doubts as to what he really desired. It was not a wife. It was not her personally. It was the land, the house, the estates. She had tried over time to help with the running of the estate but she and her father had always been at odds.

Now in less that a fortnight, everything would be taken out of her hands. The only positive thing about this is that it would all be out of her Father’s hands as well.

Once they reached the house, her Father waffled about, apologizing for Clarissa’s rude behavior. Of course, he made no mention of how he had literally used his own daughter as a bargaining chip in a card game.

“Shut up, Father!” She muttered under her breath to her Father, shooting him a glaring stare.

There is no need for apologies my good man, I enjoyed the ride and Clarissa and I soon got to know one another quite well, did we not my dear? As the day draws closer I would like to get to know her even better so we may enjoy our honeymoon in bliss.

He took possession of her hand and though she tried to snatch it from his grip, he would not let go of it as he led her into her own dining room. The man acted as if he already owned the place.

His place had been set across the table from where she usually sat. Instead, he inserted himself in the chair beside hers. In disgust, she thinned her lips and cut her eyes at her father. It was his fault that she was in this predicament.

The pressure of his hand on her knee stiffened her spine. How dare the man! Slowly and with deliberate intent, she reached up and took hold of a fork from her place setting. Without looking at him, she spoke through clenched teeth.

“If you do not remove your hand from my personage, you will find this rather sharp eating utensil sticking out of some portion of your body. Quite frankly, I care not what part of your body I stick this into. And while you may have certain rights after the ceremony, you do not have that right at this moment.”

She sat still, waiting for him to remove his hand. Her father, not quite sure as to exactly what was happening, gave a nervous laugh and sat there, unsure of whether he should scold Sir DeCoverly or his daughter.

Sir Roger was enjoying himself immensely, the constant teasing of Clarissa's sensibilities, innuendoes, which he was sure she understood but unfortunately, she had not yet risen to the bait so he decided to rack his teasing up a notch.

His opportunity came when at lunch there was the choice of two chairs, one across the table from Clarissa, the other next to her, he chose the latter and he saw the look of distaste on her face, he smiled smugly, that she was discomfited by the closeness of his presence was clear from the glare she gave both her father and him. 'I WILL provoke a reaction from you my dear' he thought, as surreptitiously he placed his hand on her knee under the table and squeezed it in a manner that could only be taken as suggestive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clarissa's jaw clench and she set her teeth together, without a word she picked up a fork from the table and held it as if about to stab him with it.

'If you do not remove your hand from my personage, you will find this rather sharp eating utensil sticking out of some portion of your body. Quite frankly, I care not what part of your body I stick this into. And while you may have certain rights after the ceremony, you do not have that right at this moment.'

While he was aware of the very real danger that Clarissa might actually carry out her threat he was prepared to take the chance and add some more bait to his hook.

"So there is to be a ceremony after all? I was under the impression that you were set against it, but now you say that my rights as your husband will not be denied me. I apologise if I have exceeded your boundaries this once but my ardour got the better of me."

All the time his hand was moving slowly higher up her thigh with his thumb rubbing gently on the inside when he was within inches of where her treasure lay he raised his hands in surrender.

"I put myself in your hands, punish me if you must but be aware that I believe in an eye for an eye"

He then calmly picked up his knife and fork and began to eat.

So there is to be a ceremony after all? I was under the impression that you were set against it, but now you say that my rights as your husband will not be denied me. I apologise if I have exceeded your boundaries this once but my ardour got the better of me.

“And I was under the understanding that I had no choice in the matter.”

It became deathly quiet around the table as his hand inched higher and higher from her knee to her thigh. Even through her riding habit, the warmth of his hand was felt, as was his thumb steadily creeping up the inside of her leg. As his hand climbed higher, her grip on the fork became tighter and her hand slowly began to lift off of the table until finally he must have decided that she meant what she had said.

With one last squeeze his hand was gone and both appeared on the topside of the table

I put myself in your hands, punish me if you must but be aware that I believe in an eye for an eye.

“Punishment for you could mean that I would go ahead with the marriage. Meanwhile I suggest that you cease all such coarse and crude behavior.”

Her Father interjected and made an effort to laugh off his daughter’s behavior.

“Now now, Clarissa darling, you don’t really mean such words. After all, he is your intended...”

She cut him off quickly. “I have not forgotten that it is your fault that this man is here, pawing your daughter, eating your food and drinking your wine as if he were already lord of the manor. That you thought so little of your own daughter as to gamble off her own hand in marriage, the rest of her life, because you thought that you had a winning hand. That, Father, I find unforgivable. And you expect me to sit still while some man that basically neither of us knows, tried to take liberties with me! I may not have any say in this outcome, but I do know that I have some say in what this man has been doing and I say, if you are so for it, let him paw at you!”

And with those words, a very upset Clarissa threw down her linen from her lap and quickly rose from the table to run from the room. In fact, she kept running up the stairs and into her room, slamming her bedroom door before throwing herself face down on her bed to bury her face in her arms. She did not cry, but she was close to finding tears.

Lord Fernwood looked at Sir DeCoverly and gave a cough and an uneasy laugh before speaking. “Dear me. They say that the road to love is sometimes bumpy.”

Sir Roger sat uneasily in his chair, he had not meant to distress Clarissa, merely to show her that despite her obvious objections to being married off to a complete stranger, he did indeed have some feelings for her and he had been clumsy in his attempts to woo her. Her departure from the dining room left him alone with Lord Fernwood, the simple fool, which is how Sir Roger viewed him, had no idea of what had been going on under the table and thought his daughter's departure merely a fit of petulance and tried to pour oil on the stormy waters.

'Dear me. They say that the road to love is sometimes bumpy.'

"Indeed it is Lord Fernwood, and there are many twists and surprises on that winding road. The time it takes to complete the journey depends on so many things, such as both parties wanting the same outcome, if one is not willing and the love is one-sided then it is hard for both parties to agree on anything. Now let me make myself perfectly clear on this matter. I won the promise of your daughter's hand fair and square in return for which I allow you to stay in this house, in your own rooms, which will be allocated to you in time when I am more familiar with what is available. Certain parts of the house will be forbidden to you, such as your daughter's and my living quarters, which out of necessity will be quite extensive. Our bedroom is also forbidden to you and you are not to interfere because of anything you hear, a husband may need to chastise his wife from time to time. On top of all this, you will receive a monthly sum of one hundred guineas. To obtain all this you need to help me and persuade Clarissa that it is in her best interests to be agreeable to our marriage."

After listening to the terms that Sir DeCoverly had laid down Lord Fernwood was almost apoplectic with anger.

"I cannot agree to any of this, to be reduced to being a guest in my own home and forbidden to go where I please, why, it's outrageous. I will most certainly not stand by and allow you to use my own daughter as nothing more than chattel and another thing, one hundred guineas a month is miserly, as it is I make three times that a week from my estate. No Sir I cannot allow it."

"My dear fellow, I can understand your disappointment but you forget that once Clarissa and I are married you will no longer own this estate so why should I pay you at all? You will not be contributing to the estate and living rent free, your meals will be provided for you although I would suggest you employ your own cook. From time to time we may invite you to dine with us."

Lord Fernwood slumped in his chair, his face changing from purple to a yellow parchment colour,

"And what if the marriage does not take place? What then?" he mumbled.

"Well, in that case, you and Clarissa will be evicted and beyond that, we will not be in contact ever again. Let us hope it does not come to that, I would hate to think of Clarissa earning a crust on the streets of London. I tell you again, help me to get her to love me just a little."

Sir Roger’s words worried Lord Fernwood. He had known that it would be an uphill battle to convince Clarissa to marry the man. Even he could see that things were not going good.

He was not exactly happy with the terms that had been set down by the man either. To him, it sounded as if the man intended to move into his suite and kick Lord Fernwood to a much smaller suite. The Master Suite had been his ever since he had married Sarah, Clarissa’s mother. He had hoped that once he had married his daughter off, then perhaps he could spend some time chasing cute little chamber maids around the room. There wasn’t much room for that in one of the smaller rooms.

Meanwhile, the problem was Clarissa and getting her to go along with the deal. The thought that they might end up destitute on a London backstreet with his daughter forced to sell herself was not good.

Clearing his throat, Lord Wilford Fernwood rose and nodded his head. “Point taken,” he replied before he left the dining room and slowly climbed the stairs. Once he reached her bedroom door, listening carefully, he heard no sobbing. Not that he expected to. Clarissa was not a cryer. She was more of a fighter.

He rapped quickly and called out as he opened her door. “Clarissa, dear, it’s Father here. Dear, we need to talk.”

Clarissa sat up. Her Father had never entered her bedroom, at least not since she was 12. Already her anger was rising and the cold tone of her words had a dangerous edge to them.

“You must not value your life to enter my bedroom.”

“But I knocked first. Clarissa, Sir Roger is just devastated that he has upset you. He didn’t mean to. He told me that his ardor for you must have made him lose all reason. He has promised to keep his hand off of you while we eat. Please dear...”

“No, Father! I cannot marry this man! I just cannot!”

An idea occurred to Wilfred. “Clarissa, if you do NOT marry him, we shall both be out the door. And he will have Thunder all for himself.”

She was still for a moment. She may not care about what would happen to her Father, but she did care about Thunder. The horse meant more to her than her own father.

She was silent as she walked over to the door. Still in her riding habit and messy hair, she opened the bedroom door and turned back to her Father.

“Very well. Lead the way. But know this, I do this ONLY for Thunder.”

Her Father took her arm and led her back down to the dining room where Sir Roger waited for them.

While Lord Fernwood was away talking to Clarissa Sir Roger had been thinking furiously. When he had first accepted Lord Fernwood's wager of his daughter's hand in marriage he'd had no intention of going ahead with it but he did want the land and the fine house that stood on it so he was going to say that Clarissa was not suitable as a wife for him so the marriage would not take place. However, since meeting Clarissa he had been intrigued by her fiery spirit and the two kisses he had stolen had been sweet although not returned and he could think of nothing other than to have his kisses returned as they lay together in their marriage bed.

When Lord Fernwood returned with Clarissa following behind he was immediately apologetic to Clarissa.

"Miss Fernwood, Clarissa, please accept my deepest regret for my uncouth actions at lunch and my mistaken assumption that you would welcome them as a sign of my affection for you, it was unforgivable but it is my hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me."

He closed the distance between them and took both of her hands in her's and looked imploringly into her eyes. His own eyes still had a devilish look in them for despite his blandishments he did not regret his actions at all, his exploring hand on her thigh had confirmed to him that she had well-muscled thighs that would hold him tight as he fucked her.

He continued in much the same vein,

"Let me make it up to you if I can, let's take a tour of your fine house and perhaps you would be so kind as to point out which parts of the house you would like to be for us alone and those that would be acceptable to your father and those where we can all meet,"

He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed her fingertips briefly before asking her to lead the way.

She was hesitant as she entered the room. Her Father was irritating as he moved around on the outer edge of the room, getting more in the way than anything else.

Miss Fernwood, Clarissa, please accept my deepest regret for my uncouth actions at lunch and my mistaken assumption that you would welcome them as a sign of my affection for you, it was unforgivable but it is my hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me.

He took her hands and seemed to beg her to forgive him, but she could see the insincerity in his eyes.

Let me make it up to you if I can, let's take a tour of your fine house and perhaps you would be so kind as to point out which parts of the house you would like to be for us alone and those that would be acceptable to your father and those where we can all meet

He kissed her fingertips before tucking her hand in his arm and motioned for her to lead on.

She didn’t believe any of his false pretenses but nevertheless she led him through the ground floor, showing him the sitting room and study/library, the grand foyer and the conservatory. He of course had already seen the grand foyer, the dining room. There was a music room, though it was rarely used at all, much less for music.

She escorted him to the kitchen and introduced him to the cook, Mrs. Dumpling. The woman was a cheerful overweight and red cheeked. She had been a surrogate mother to Clarissa ever since the young girl was eight years old and had been told that her mother had died. The little girl had come running into the kitchen and threw herself at the woman. Ever since then, Mrs. Dumpling was Clarissa’s mother figure.

“This is our cook, Mrs. Dumpling. Her pies are the best in the county.”

“Goodness me. They just pies.”

“Mrs. Dumpling, this is Sir Roger DeCoverly. My... Affianced.” Clarissa was hesitant, unsure of just how to do the introductions.

The cook’s eyes widened in surprise. This was certainly news to her. And being smart and well versed in the happenings at Fernwood Manor, she knew that something was going on most of the time.

“Well, I wish you every happiness.”

“And we shall be living here.”

Mrs. Dumpling was quiet for a moment. “Yes, my Lady. Should I start planning the food for the event? My Lady?”

It was obvious that Mrs. Dumpling didn’t know what to say.

“Uh, we shall talk later.” Cook gave a bob of her head and continued to work.

Clarissa pointed out the larder and pantry.

“Downstairs is the root cellar and wine cellar. No need to look at that. Dusty rows of dusty bottles of wine that I managed to keep Father from drinking. That’s why I have the keys to the cellar.”

She hesitated before taking him upstairs to see the bedrooms. This was suddenly getting more personal. After all, she had no problem showing him her Father’s suite where her Mother and Father had slept. It was a large suite, with a large bedroom, two dressing rooms and a bathing rooms. But she was not about to show him her bedroom.

Sir Roger knew from Clarissa's look of distaste that she didn't for one moment believe his apology was sincere although in part it was. He asked for a tour of the house and Clarissa showed him around, introducing him to Mrs Dumpling the cook and he greeted Clarissa's assertion that she baked the best pies in the county with a smile, for he was quite partial to pies of all kinds.

"I will look forward to tasting your pies Mrs Dumpling and all the other delicacies that abound here."

He gave Clarissa a look to see if she had caught his meaning. Clarissa led him up the sweeping staircase after declaring that the wine cellar wasn't worth a look and that she held the keys to it.

'I will relieve you of that onerous responsibility once we are married.' he thought to himself, it was only right that the master of the house should hold them.

Lord Fernwood's bedroom was next, a luxurious room with a large bed which quickly took his eye and he sat on it and bounced up and down and eyed Clarissa with the look of a hungry wolf.

"Yes, the bed seems most suitable for all purposes, this will be our bedroom Clarissa, my dear, two changing rooms means we can both dress for dinner without the distraction of watching the other disrobe, the bathroom will perhaps need a larger tub, one that can accommodate two at once. Your father can move into your old room, you will have no need of it."

Without apparently doing so Sir Roger had made mental notes of the changes he would make once he was the master here.

"I thank you for the tour of our,,,,,,,,,,,, I apologise, your, home it seems there will be ample room for our children to play."

Once again he caught Clarissa's eye and winked at her.

I will look forward to tasting your pies Mrs Dumpling and all the other delicacies that abound here.

She quickly turned away before Dumpling could see her face flush bright red. She knew that later she would be questioned by the woman as to what exactly was going on.

The tour upstairs was equally embarrassing as he immediately took to the Master suite. Like a child with a new toy, he sat bouncing suggestively on the mattress, staring at her as if he planned on taking her then and there.

Yes, the bed seems most suitable for all purposes, this will be our bedroom Clarissa, my dear, two changing rooms means we can both dress for dinner without the distraction of watching the other disrobe, the bathroom will perhaps need a larger tub, one that can accommodate two at once. Your father can move into your old room, you will have no need of it.

Knowing not of the discussion that Sir Roger had already had with her Father, she knew that her Father would not be happy with such arrangements. This had become his and her Mother’s rooms upon the death of her Grandfather. It was always the bedroom of Lord Fernwood. But before she could say as much, he spoke again.

I thank you for the tour of our,,,,,,,,,,,, I apologise, your, home it seems there will be ample room for our children to play.

Without thinking, she let slip, “Children?” Blast, she had not thought things through. Being married to someone she did not love would be bad enough. But to bring children into a loveless marriage...perhaps she would be barren.

She looked up and caught his wink. She needed to change the subject and quick.

“I can show you the servant’s quarters and then the stables.”