Read Online Playing to Win by Diane Farr - Free Book Online Page A

seemed a sober little thing. He
placed the tips of his fingers together. "So. Here we have Miss
Feeney—a name which, by the by, suits you no more than it does your
mother—on the horns of a dilemma. An adored father you cannot
acknowledge, and a despised mother you cannot deny."
    "Very succinctly put, sir."
    "I have that knack," acknowledged Mr.
Whitlatch. "And as a result, you were buried alive at a female
academy. That must have been a hellish existence for a young and
lovely girl."
    But the eyes she raised to his were
puzzled. "No, sir. It was a life I loved."
    His brows rose. "Really? Most young
people dislike school, you know. They had much rather be
home."
    To his discomfiture, Clarissa’s face
crumpled. She looked away. "I was home," she whispered. Her voice
became suspended in tears; she shook her head and swallowed,
fighting to control herself.
    Mr. Whitlatch sat quietly for a moment,
respecting her struggle for composure. His voice was unusually
gentle when he finally asked, "Then why did you leave?"
    Clarissa's gloved hands clenched
tightly in her lap. "As I told you, sir, Miss Bathurst died." An
unhappy little laugh escaped her. "You must think it odd that I
would mourn a mere teacher so violently."
    "Not at all. It is clear she was like a
mother to you. And you had no father. I daresay it was like losing
both parents at a blow."
    She nodded. "Very much like that," she
whispered. "Thank you for understanding."
    Understanding! He was ready to
disclaim, when he suddenly realized she was right. The novelty of
it fairly knocked him acock. He, Trevor Whitlatch, was empathizing
with another human being. He fancied most of his acquaintance would
never believe it.
    But Clarissa was addressing him again.
"That isn’t the whole," she said. Her voice was strained. "I would
have gladly stayed on, even without Miss Bathurst. I enjoyed
teaching, and the little girls had become dear to me."
    "Well, then?"
    Clarissa hesitated. "I am sure, had she
thought of it, Miss Bathurst would have made some provision that
might have—would have ensured—" She swallowed, then went on. "But
her death was sudden, and she had never made a will. Ten days after
her death, her next of kin arrived. Cousins of some kind, I fancy.
At any rate, Miss Bathurst had built her school into a profitable
establishment and they were anxious to claim it. One cannot blame
them."
    Clarissa shrugged, in a futile attempt
to appear unaffected. "When they learned whose daughter I was, they
dismissed me."
    Ah, God. This empathy business was
uncomfortable. Mr. Whitlatch felt his throat constrict with
pity.
    "Until last week, sir, I had not seen
my mother for over fifteen years. But I found myself with nowhere
else to go."
    "I see." He absently rubbed his injured
forearm. "Declared persona non grata at the Academy, through
no fault of your own, you were forced to turn to the very person
whose notoriety was responsible for your situation. That must have
been painful."
    She nodded. "Intolerable," she said
quietly. "But I had no choice."
    He cocked his head at her. "You say you
arrived there only last week?"
    She nodded again. "Although it
certainly seemed longer, to me. My stay there was—unpleasant. I am
sure you can imagine."
    Yes, he could. It was easy to picture
the treatment Clarissa would receive at her mother’s hands,
especially if she had refused to fall in with La Gianetta’s plans
for her. And Gianetta would obviously have had plans for Clarissa,
plans that involved making the maximum amount of money off her
highly marketable daughter. No wonder Gianetta had laughed when he
accepted Clarissa in exchange for those rubies. What a very good
joke it must have seemed. In one stroke, she had punished Clarissa
and cheated Trevor Whitlatch.
    He thought for a moment, fitting the
pieces of the puzzle together in the new light shed by Miss
Feeney’s revelations. Righteous anger began to build within him.
Anger at the pious nincompoops who had dismissed a