To Deceive A Duke

Chapter 8

The carriage journey to Starling's house takes little time and Clarissa is thankful as her mother's full dress leaves very little room for the rest of them to sit comfortably. 

"This is ridiculous," Catherine mutters throughout the journey. She would much rather have stayed at home and curled up with a good book but Marie had insisted that she and Victor come for the last ball before they leave for France. Victor had tried and failed to excuse himself, and now he finds his face squished against the window of the carriage,  a carriage that would comfortably fit four if it was not for his aunt's dramatic outfit.

Clarissa jumps out of the carriage as soon as it stops, not bothering to wait for the footman to open it for her. She steps in front of the tall white house and has to admire the tall extravagant windows set in the bright stone. She has never seen a house like it before, it is a stunning narrow building.

"It's smaller than I imagined." Marie comments as she steps out, "When Lady Carrick described it to me I was expecting to be amazed, I am afraid I am quite underwhelmed."

"Mother there's no one around to hear you be rude," Catherine says irritated, "If you run out of insults now your usual audience will be left with nothing."

Victor sniggers but Marie doesn't respond. 

 The family enter the house, handing over their coats and greeting the hosts politely. Once the first part of the pleasantries are over Victor vanishes in search of the card tables and his friends. Catherine and Clarissa follow their mother into the main ballroom, the room is alight with summer colours, reds, pinks and yellows all glitter on the walls. An orchestra plays a delicate little tune from their raised platform in the corner, where an open doorway leads to the other rooms. The three women pause to survey the room, people take notice of their arrival and a few whispers ripple around the room. Marie is oblivious to the stares as she delicately nods across the room to a woman standing in a group. 

"Ah Lady Carrick is here, how nice, I must say hello. I shall see you later." Marie walks towards the woman, leaving her daughters standing on their own with people still watching. 

"I hate it when she does that," Catherine says, Clarissa hums in agreement looking at the many faces. While she doesn't make herself known to everyone in London society,  she does make it her business to know about the most important and relevant people so that there are no surprises. She recognises a few friends, investors and acquaintances but she has no desire to greet them. 

"Come on," Catherine takes her arm, "We can't stand here forever."

The two sisters slowly walk around the edge of the room until they pause by one of the many window alcoves.

"There are many people here tonight," Clarissa says, craning her neck to see over the sea of faces. "I wonder why?" 

She spots a man walking towards their corner and she automatically hits her sister's arm.

"Ow, what?" Catherine complains, irritated, rubbing her arm.

"Your friend is coming towards us," Clarissa says under her breath, she taps her sister again, trying to remember his name. "What's his name? Barclay's boy....her son?"

"Samuel Barclay?" Catherine mouths, Clarissa nods fervently.

Samuel Barclay slips past the last layer of people between them and stands in front. He bows, his head lowered. The girls return his respect. Clarissa eyes him with a secret smile, he is slightly smaller than her but he has a bright and cheerful face and his eyes sparkle with wisdom and intellect. He is well-spoken, with a pleasant demeanour and is a rare male that doesn't follow the same rakish behaviour of other gentlemen his age. She would almost call him a friend, however, their friendship is only a result of him taking a liking to her sister.