Read Online Rushed to the Altar by Jane Feather - Free Book Online Page B

contract. Lucky you, snagging Blackwater. He’s one big catch, isn’t he, Em?”
    “That he is,” her friend said.
    It seemed the entire house knew of it, Clarissa thought. She’d never been introduced to any of the other inhabitants, indeed had barely seen them except occasionally as figures disappearing through a door in a silken rustle. Now it seemed they were ready to embrace her as one of their own.
    “Let’s see what we can do with your hair.” Em had a pair of curling tongs in her hand. “Fetch the hairbrush over here, Maddy.”
    “No.” Clarissa recoiled as the two approached the bed. “I don’t even think I’m going to meet with the earl.”
    Her visitors stopped in their tracks. “Lord, youmust be daft in the head. You can’t say no to Mother Griffiths.”
    “I most certainly can.” Clarissa stood up. “And while I appreciate the offer, Em . . . Emma . . . Emily . . . ? I can also dress myself in my own clothes.”
    “It’s Emily,” the girl said. “What’s yours?”
    “Clarissa.”
    “Clarissa.” Emily nodded. “Is that your real name, or one you use for the business?”
    “How long have you been in the business?” Maddy chimed in.
    “I’m
not
in the business and never have been.” Clarissa could hear a note of desperation in her voice.
    Disconcertingly they both laughed. “Oh, we all say that at first,” Emily said. “We all think,
It’s only for a week, it’s only to get over this rough spot,
but then you realize you’ve been at it for months and it’s really not so bad after all. This is a good house. We’re looked after, no rough stuff unless you’re willing.”
    “And Mother Griffiths will only have the best class of client through her door,” Maddy added. “And when she negotiates a contract, it’s always fair. We get our fair share. She keeps a good table, plenty of good wine, and there’s regular health inspections, so if you get a dose of the clap you take the physic and don’t have to work until the physician says you’re clean.”
    “ ’Tis nice to have a rest once in a while,” Emily chimed in. “We none of us mind that bit, do we, Maddy?”
    Clarissa was torn between fascination at this insightinto a world she knew next to nothing about and revulsion at the idea that as far as these two women were concerned she was as much a part of it as they were.
    She was about to put them right in no uncertain terms, then stopped, swallowing the hot denial as it came to her lips. If she wanted the earl’s protection he had to believe she was a harlot. Which meant that everyone must believe it. Walls had ears after all.
    “I’ll wear my bronze muslin,” she stated. She was not going to wear a gown that came from God knows where. And she was not going to be beholden to Mistress Griffiths in any way. It seemed, however, as if her earlier paralysis had dissipated. She went to the armoire and drew out the gown, laying it on the bed.
    “Oh, the sprig muslin’s much prettier,” Emily said, tilting her head as she compared the two. “This is rather prim, don’t you think, Maddy?”
    It was true that the neckline of the sprig muslin was much lower than Clarissa’s own gown, but there wasn’t much call for daring décolletage in the country. “That may be, but it’s mine and I intend to wear it.” She cast aside her night robe and stepped into the bronze muslin, lacing the bodice. “Thank you for the offer, but I truly don’t need your help. I’ve been dressing myself since I was five years old.”
    They both looked disconcerted. “We always help each other when it’s an important meeting,” Maddy said. “We’re all in this together, Clarissa. You’ll realize soon enough that you need friends.”
    “Oh, leave her be if she’s too good for us.” Emily walked to the door.
    “No . . . no, forgive me.” Clarissa spoke in a rush, realizing abruptly how much she did need friends in this strange world and how ungracious she had been. “I am truly