Clarissa and the Poor Relations by Alicia Cameron Page A

giant retreat a little at this. He bowed over her hands and kissed them however and said, ‘Miss Petersham, Oriana, how do you come to be here?’
    Oriana withdrew her hands and coloured a little. ‘You did not know?’
    ‘No, indeed,’ said Grandiston, ‘I have just come to stay with my friend who has become tenant in the Dower House. You know Mr Booth, I believe?’
    Oriana looked dazedly beyond him to his companion; the handsome, merry faced young man brought back memories of her horrible London season. She did not know why her spirits had suddenly sank except that she had thought that, that - but what? That her father would come in behind him slapping his back and shouting for his breakfast after a long ride? That Grandiston could whisk her away to a time when she had been happy and secure before she had to worry about whether Fitzroy or Clarissa’s brother could rule her life? That he would keep looking at her in that teasing way of his…
    ‘Mr Booth. We met in London, of course,’ she said, extending her hand. He bowed over it and swept a magnificent leg much in the manner of gallants from the previous generation, ‘Your devoted slave, ma’am.’
    Clarissa giggled. This had the effect of drawing the gentlemen’s gazes in her direction. Booth looking a little discomfited.
    ‘Oh, dear. Excuse me, if you will,’ said Clarissa, still smiling.
    ‘ Ladies,’ said Oriana smoothly, ‘may I introduce Lord Grandiston, an old and dear friend of my father, and his friend The Honourable Charles Booth . This is Miss Clarissa Thorne, our hostess, and the Misses Micklethwaite and Appleby who, like me, are bearing her company here at Ashcroft.’
    His Lordship held out his hand to the young lady who hardly looked old enough to be anyone’s hostess, then bowed over the hand of the little reed of a lady who fluttered in her beribboned frock. This gallantry almost overset her and she exclaimed and tinkled her little laugh whilst she waved her lace handkerchief to fan her reddened cheek. Clarissa giggled again and caught Grandiston’s ironical eye as he observed these transports. They had only just subsided when Mr Booth had the office of touching her hand and she was off again. Lord Grandiston’s eyebrow went up and Clarissa gave herself to a helpless fit of the giggles. His Lordship had himself in hand until he turned to Miss Micklethwaite.
    ‘Fool.’ remarked that lady, ‘Well, that’ll teach you young men to keep it to a nod next time or we’ll all be driven to Bedlam by Louisa’s foolishness.’
    Meeting Oriana’s eye this time, he felt his restraint go and soon all five of the young company were helpless with laughter, though Miss Appleby was unsure what the joke was, and Miss Micklethwaite’s face remained composed.
    The arrival of refreshment brought some order but the whole company had left formality behind and so instead of quelling Mr Booth’s fulsome compliments with her usual frigidity, Oriana merely grinned or groaned, depending on his deftness. She thought of him as a silly boy and she divided herself between fending him off and chatting with the rest of the company. She could not help her gaze resting fondly on Grandiston from time to time for his presence was giving this time a kind of magic from her past, when she was the favourite daughter of a great man ruling the roost in a great house. Grandiston she saw, was mightily entertained by Clarissa - who looked, thought Oriana, so vivacious and pretty today. She was conscious of a twinge of something strange. Probably I want my old friend all to myself, she thought, at least until I have caught up with him. Mr Elfoy was asking her something; she had to ask him to repeat it.
    Elfoy was enjoying the camaraderie that had been so easily established, and smiled at Booth’s outrageous attempts at flattering Miss Petersham whilst suffering agonies when he heard Clarissa laugh at one of Grandiston’s dry remarks. Of course he had expected that she would