Читать книгу Date with a Regency Rake: The Wicked Lord Rasenby / The Rake's Rebellious Lady - Anne Herries, Anne Herries - Страница 13

‘Can you finish up here on your own, John? This way, Clarissa, we have unfinished business to attend to.’ Kit, his expression impassive, ushered Clarissa towards the awaiting chaise. His tightly reigned temper had been in evidence ever since the Sea Wolf docked. Monsieur and Mademoiselle Renaud were disembarked and dispatched in a separate post chaise with uncommon haste, allowing Clarissa time for only the briefest of farewells. John was kept busy amid a flurry of barked orders from Kit, unloading the remaining cargo, securing the yacht, and then finally the boathouse.

Aside from pointing Clarissa towards the chaise, Kit had said nothing to her. Deducing correctly that she was the source of his anger, although having no clue as to how she might have provoked it, Clarrie felt her own temper starting to rise, fuelled by a sense of injustice. She wheeled to confront him.

‘What have I done to incur your displeasure this time, my lord? At least have the decency to tell me to my face. I thought you would be impressed by my actions when we were boarded by the Revenue. My motives were of the purest, I did it only to protect all of us—you, me, John and the Renauds. Would you have me in the wrong for that, would you have me apologise for trying to save you? For it worked, didn’t it?’ She added proudly, ‘The look on poor Lieutenant Smith’s face was priceless!’

‘Yes, it worked. But you were lucky and, more to the point, extremely reckless, for things might easily have gone awry after your impulsive behaviour. This is not merely a game, some sport for your entertainment, Clarissa. Innocent people’s lives are at stake. Lives that you put at risk.’

‘I thought you cared naught for these people yourself. Did you not make me a pretty speech that it was all sport to you and you were indifferent to their fate?’

‘Well, I care for John, at any rate,’ was his lame response. Confound the woman, Kit thought, looking distinctly uncomfortable now. First she knows my thoughts, and now she seems able to look into my very soul and read what lies hidden within.

Clarissa pressed on, warming to the task, recognising that for once she held the upper hand. ‘As usual, my lord, you would be better served aiming your words at a more deserving target—yourself! Putting innocent lives at risk for sport and pleasure! For shame, sir, is that not exactly the fate you intended for Amelia Warrington?’

‘Her again,’ Kit exploded. ‘What is your obsession with that girl? As I’ve said before, I pride myself on amply rewarding those with whom I play such games.’

‘Indeed you do, Lord Rasenby. But have you ever considered that what you proudly call generosity is, in fact, conscience and guilt?’

Kit stepped towards Clarissa, grasping her by both elbows, looming over her threateningly. ‘That may be so, Clarissa, but we are embroiled in a game of our own, remember. One we both chose to play willingly and in which neither of us could be called innocent. A game that is about to resume.’