Just One Kiss Read Free Page B

gaze. So what if Clarissa was right? She'd not let the old witch know it, not now, not ever!
    "Papa was ill," she repeated. "I merely wanted him to concentrate on getting well that he might
see
my wedding to Nathaniel."
    "Your father would never have permitted you to marry a—a Yankee nobody—and one of Irish descent yet! Such a marriage is hardly suitable!"
    Elizabeth shook her head.
A suitable marriage
. She cared little about that. But she was well aware that Clarissa didn't understand the fires of youth, the fires that burned in her breast whenever she was with Nathaniel.
    No, she thought.
No
. She would not marry Lord Harry—not to please Clarissa, nor to please anyone. For if she did, she would lead a stifling existence, a life she could not bear.
    Nor did she delude herself. If she remained, Clarissa would do all she could to force her to her will. Indeed, she sensed in Clarissa an unyielding purpose that was almost frightening.
    Slowly she rose to her feet. "I regret that it must be like this," she said calmly. "But I think you will agree that perhaps it is best I leave for Boston—and Nathaniel—as soon as possible."
    Clarissa leaped to her feet as well. Her cheeks turned a mottled shade of red. "By God, girl, you always were a willful, spoiled child, but your father would never believe me! I told him you'd lost your senses to this Yankee! I told him you needed a strong hand to guide you, but he would not concede until he lay dying. And now I thank God that he is dead, for he would be scandalized by your behavior!"
    Elizabeth ignored her, extending a hand toward James Rowland. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Rowland. I trust you'll understand if I remain no longer. I've passage to book, you see."
    Rowland was on his feet as well. "Lady Elizabeth," he pleaded. "Lady Elizabeth, please! I beg you to reconsider. Surely the two of you can work something out. Indeed, you stand to gain much. Your father made provisions for an extremely generous allowance—"
    "An allowance to be determined by me, Mr. Rowland. And by God, she'll get not a farthing. Not a farthing, do you hear?" Clarissa's voice vibrated with her fury. "Without me, you are as poor as a church mouse!"
    Rowland fell silent. Elizabeth knew then it was true. Papa, she thought sadly. Oh, Papa, why did you do this? He had taught her to think for herself. She needed no one to guide her, to control her, as Clarissa seemed determined to do.
    After a moment, she tipped her head, the merest wisp of a smile on her lips as she spoke softly. "You don't understand, do you, Clarissa? Papa's money does not matter to me. True, I love Hayden Park, but my life is my own—and means far more to me. And I would rather be poor than wed to a man I do not love."
    That was the last she'd seen of Clarissa.
    And so she had said farewell to her father, farewell to England… to her life as she had known it.
    For a time there was no help for it—she'd been secretly crushed. She couldn't help but feel that by placing her future in Clarissa's hands, Papa had betrayed her. But during the long voyage across the sea, she'd come to realize Papa's only fault was in trusting so easily; trusting Clarissa to look out for his daughter's best interests.
    Yes, she thought once more.
Yes
. She'd made the right choice. The
only
choice.
    For to marry as Clarissa commanded would have been unbearable.
    Slowly Elizabeth released a long pent-up breath. Her mind returned to the present…
    And Nathaniel.
    She coughed, aware of an unfamiliar tightness in her breast. Her chest had begun to ache again, as it had the past few days. She brushed it aside distractedly. It was nothing but the memories, she told herself.
    Grasping the strings of her reticule, she glanced once more toward the house. A twinge of uncertainty marred the smoothness of her brow. Nearly three months had passed since she'd last laid eyes on Nathaniel. Would he be pleased to see her?
    She gave a little laugh. Of course he would. He loved