Finessing Clarissa Read Free Page A

stock-still, shaking with fright. Clarissa had seized his fallen pistol and had fired over his retreating figure.
    He thought she looked like a she-devil when he slowly turned around with his hands raised and saw her walking towards him, the smoking pistol in her hand and the red glare of the burning carriage behind her.
    He threw back his head and screamed, ‘Help. Oh, help me!’
    And then Clarissa heard the urgent thud of hooves coming along the road towards them at a great rate. ‘Your accomplice, no doubt,’ she said bitterly.
    The Earl of Greystone rode towards that incredible scene. A carriage was burning brightly and in its lurid flames he saw his half-brother cringing before a tall female who was standing in her stockinged feet and holding a pistol.
    He came to a halt and dismounted. ‘Are you all right, Tom?’ he asked.
    ‘Keep her away from me,’ cried Tom, and burst into tears.
    The earl faced Clarissa. ‘What has been going on, ma’am?’
    Clarissa forgot to stoop. After all, she did not need to when faced with such a giant as this. ‘This fellow held up my coach,’ she said.
    ‘Tom, stop blubbing,’ snapped the earl. He turned back to Clarissa. ‘And did he also set your coach on fire?’
    ‘No, sir,’ said Clarissa. ‘I did that. It was the cheroot I was smoking, don’t you see?’
    ‘Take me home, Crispin,’ wailed Tom, clutching at the earl’s sleeve. The earl shook himself free. ‘Faugh! What is that sickening smell?’
    ‘I was trying to bathe his forehead,’ said Clarissa patiently. ‘You see, he ordered me down from the coach and asked for my jewels, and I was going to give them to him, you know, but I forgot about the cheroot and it burned his horse’s side and his horse threw him and I soaked my handkerchief in that ditch over there and put it to his forehead, but that ditch, sir, is an open sewer. Hence the smell. I gather you are not highwaymen?’
    ‘No, ma’am, I am Greystone. And you . . . ?’
    ‘Miss Vevian, Clarissa Vevian.’
    ‘Miss Vevian, what can I say? This is dreadful. I pray you, leave this young whipper-snapper to me and don’t turn him over to the authorities. I will repair any damage to your property and give you a sum of money to cover your losses.’
    ‘That’s handsome of you,’ said Clarissa, ‘considering it was I who set the coach on fire. All my fine gowns are quite destroyed,’ she said cheerfully, thinking of all those frilly, fussy dresses going up in smoke, not to mention all those cramping and crippling pairs of shoes.
    ‘I suggest you ride back with me to my home and let the others find their own way there.’
    ‘Very well,’ said Clarissa. ‘We are not totally ruined, for the jewels are still there and the money was in sovereigns. Pray give instructions to my servants.’
    He strode off to talk to Clarissa’s coachman. Tom sniffed dismally at Clarissa’s elbow.
    ‘Oh, you’re still here,’ said Clarissa crossly. ‘What an idiot you are!’
    ‘It’s all Crispin’s fault,’ said Tom. ‘I asked him for money for a new hunter and he wouldn’t give it to me. He’s a miser!’
    ‘Was that his fine horse you were riding?’
    ‘No, it was my own,’ said Tom sulkily.
    ‘But because you couldn’t get your own way, you decided to turn highwayman and rob some defenceless person. Fie, for shame! My coachman could have shot you, had he had his wits about him. You are a silly little schoolboy.’
    ‘I’ll get even with you for this,’ muttered Tom.
    The earl strode back to them. ‘Tom, help the maid mount one of the carriage horses and lead her home. Miss Vevian, let me help you mount.’
    ‘I am quite capable of mounting myself,’ said Clarissa, suddenly nervous of him. She put a stockinged foot in the stirrup and mounted with such energy that she went clean over the other side. Her bonnet fell off and her red hair, which was very long, tumbled down to her waist.
    ‘Miss Vevian,’ said the earl, picking her up. ‘Do