Clarissa and the Poor Relations by Alicia Cameron

place?’ he exclaimed in horror.
    Macintosh’s dour Caledonian features lightened slightly, ‘I anticipated some discrepancies in the cellar, my lord, and brought an extra coach for the wine. I trust you have no objection to the extra expense, sir?’ he inquired of his master.
    Charles cut in, ‘No, no, McIntosh. ‘He said expansively, ‘Think nothing of it.’
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
Chapter 9
Old Friends
     
     
    The ladies were in the morning room after breakfast. Clarissa had slept like a baby and felt herself to be repressing a burst of happiness such as she had seldom known. All rational reflection of the difficulties that now confronted her could not extinguish the hope that lay beyond sense. Everything was possible, everything. None of the representations of logic that her more serious side put forward could cloud the joy of one thing. Mr Elfoy had trembled.
    There had been no reference made to Clarissa’s absurd behaviour of last night – highly-strung nerves, thought Miss Appleby. The dearest girl had been through so much. She looked doubtfully at her this morning. Her hair was dressed in the new way that she had adopted, she wore the dove coloured muslin with an air, trimmed as it was with the fine white gauze fichu tucked into the low cut bodice and held with her mama’s round pearl circlet. Her eyes sparkled and her curls shone in a way that transformed the colour from mouse to dazzling melee of hues in blonde and chestnut. Why, if she had not been aware of the facts she would have thought Clarissa looked quite, well, happy. She could not forbear exclaiming, ‘Why Clarissa my dear, you look quite radiant today. I thought that the letter from your brother might bring you down.’
    Clarissa looked serious for a moment but then her sunny smile returned, ‘I cannot think at the moment, but I am sure that I shall think of some way of rebuffing him. It’s not today in any event, and we still have a great deal to do. I think we should continue as normal until we get advice from Mr Micklethwaite. It may not be so bad after all.’
    Miss Micklethwaite exchanged glances with Oriana, both of whom had some notion of the reasons for Clarissa’s sudden optimism. They would need to keep harder heads about the impending disaster, but they silently assented by looks to keep their inevitable reflections to themselves for the present.
    ‘Well,’ she said rising, ‘then I had better get along to the kitchens. The stillroom is in need of reordering.’
    Clarissa’s voice stopped them, ‘No, Waity, don’t go. I quite forgot to tell you at breakfast but Sullivan delivered a note from Mr Elfoy. It’s the Dower House tenants. He’s bringing them over this morning to be introduced.’
    The ladies exclaimed and asked for details but whilst Clarissa was replying the morning room door flew open and Sullivan announced, ‘His Lordship, the Earl of Grandiston; The Honourable Mr Charles Booth and Mr Elfoy, Miss.’
    The gentlemen were on the threshold; Miss Petersham turned sharply; she gave a little cry, then, ‘Grandiston.’ and she flew across the room, her arms extended to catch both of his in hers, ‘Oh, Grandiston.’
    Grandiston caught her hands and looked down into her eyes, shining with a warmth that he had seldom seen in her except when she had looked at her father. She looked so beautiful, even with her hair in that constricted style. She looked like an angel and caught off-guard, Grandiston returned her look and for a moment his suavity slipped and the real man showed his face. The ladies therefore saw him at his very best; the harsh looking face softened, the eyes humorous and warm, bending down to Oriana from his considerable height.
    ‘Oh Grandiston,’ she said again ‘you cannot think how I have longed to see you. You are the nearest thing to my father that I have left.’
    Miss Micklethwaite, interestedly watching this encounter with the rest of the room’s occupants, thought she saw the