Chapter 35

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Daniel and Clarissa share a silent journey to their reception at Stirwell Manor. Neither of them makes an effort to speak, nor wish to start a conversation. As far as they are considered they have just pulled off the act of the century; a fake wedding that has fooled the entire city. No words need to be swapped to know this. Instead, the duke watches the world go by through the window while Clarissa focuses on the wedding band that now rests next to her diamond ring. The last hour of her life is a mere blur in her memory and she can't remember breathing through it. She sneaks peeks at her new husband but his face is like stone, which irritates her greatly. How does one keep their face so blank and closed off from the world? She has little time to ponder the question as the carriage draws to a halt outside Stirwell Manor. 

Due to the efficient planning of Grace Cavendish, the ground house has been transformed into a glittering wedding reception. The colour scheme is the same as Clarissa's dress which means that the whole space is gleaming with white and gold. Blooming white roses are dotted around the lengths of gold lace that stretch around the rooms and curl down the pillars and doorways. It looks like something of a fairytale, magical and bright. 

The summer night provides glorious weather so the party has been extended outside to the large ground where tents and canopies have been pitched and dressed in the same style. The tents around a small square dance floor on the grass, accompanied by a small orchestra, and hanging lanterns light the area in a soft burning glow. 

For the first hour, Clarissa doesn't stop, she and Daniel greet guest and after guest, forging pleasantries and gracefully accepting compliments and praise. They talk to lords and ladies, politicians and government officials, all fighting to have their say. Daniel, quickly, gets visibly bored of them and pulls his new wife onto the indoor dance floor for a waltz. They gather many stares as they dance and Clarissa is grateful when her father cuts in. George then steals her for his promised dance and she finds herself relaxing for the first time today. She laughs at his jests and they swap snide comments about their observers. Daniel has disappeared into the crowds without a word, much to her annoyance, but she refuses to let herself be bothered by his aloof behaviour. 

She has just finished dancing with Samuel Barclay, who badgered her about Catherine the entire time when she grabs a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and sneaks outside before anyone can see her. It's a few hours into the reception and she hasn't seen her husband since he left her on the dance floor. Part of her is glad as she is growing weary and might not be in the best frame of mind to handle his jabs let alone his sinful gazes. On the other hand, leaving her to handle the guests by herself is an unfair decision. 

Outside, she manages to avoid the crowds gathered under the tents and finds a spot under a tree, just to the left of the dance floor. She collapses into a chair and sighs in relief as she frees her feet from the ridiculous heels. She wriggles her toes and relishes the cooling feeling of placing them on the grass. Her neck aches and she is tired but she can feel people watching her so keeps her posture straight and stares straight ahead as though she is watching the couples on the dance floor. A few guests scuttle near her seat but a well-controlled warning glare sends them away. She could suffer through an evening of being perfectly charming to everyone, but tomorrow that will all change, better they know to avoid her now than later. 

"You did it Frenchie,"

Clarissa looks up to see Lord Mathew standing over her, dressed to the nines in a cream suit with silver buttons. She smiles widely and he grins back, taking the chair next to her.

"I did what exactly?" She asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"You said you'd do better than the second cousin and you've gone and married the heir," He says, the admiration shining through his tone, "That's impressive,"

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