Clarissa spends the carriage ride home silent in silence and shock, her soaked dress clinging to her skin. She peaks a look at her husband from under her lashes but neither of them says a word. They just sit there, cold and wet until the carriage finally arrives at Lygon Place. They step into the hallway when Mrs Hill rushes over to them, along with several confused and scared maids. Seeing the state that the duke and duchess are in, baths are immediately called for them, and Daniel and Clarissa are separated.
In the deliciously hot water, Clarissa sends Alice and her maids away, closing her eyes and replaying the kiss in her mind. She absent-mindedly raises her hand and presses her fingers to her lips, remembering how it felt as he held her close. The adrenaline and shock mixed with the heat of the embrace skyrocketed the intensity of the moment and she cannot get it off her mind. What does it mean? Why did she kiss him? And why did he kiss her back? It was such an unexpected moment and it's confusing the hell out of her. You don't kiss people you don't have a shred of attraction for unless there are copious amounts of alcohol involved, and she and Daniel were both sober as a judge.
Her thoughts run around in her head until the water has turned lukewarm and then she finally gets out of the bath. She slips on a light shift dress and wraps a fluffy robe around her. She ties her wet hair into a bun and pulls on a pair of slippers. She takes a quick look in the mirror and winces at her pale skin and dark eyes as she leaves the dressing room. She heads through her study and knocks on the double doors separating her from Daniel's room. She hears his deep voice calling her through so she tentatively opens the door and slips inside.
Daniel is slouched in one of the chairs in front of the fire, a glass in his hand. His silver eyes find her and darken. He gestures to the empty chair in front of him so she walks over and sinks into it, crossing her ankles and leaning back. Like her, he has bathed and dressed but he is only wearing a pair of linen trousers under his dark navy robe and the middle of his torso on full display. Clarissa pulls her eyes away from his carved abs, temptation flickering in her mind, and locks her fingers together.
"I wasn't entirely truthful with you earlier," She begins, "I may have mentioned to your mother that we haven't seen a great deal of each other, but that wasn't a plea to change to it," She explains, trying to convince herself as well as him, "But you've avoided me for the last two weeks and I have no clue as to why. You cannot blame me for feeling such a way,"
She can't keep the accusation out of her tone as she surveys him. He raises the glass to his lips and takes a long drink. His eyebrows are pulled together as he looks away from her, staring at the opposite wall.
"I know you never wanted this marriage, or me," He says, lowly, "Peter made it quite clear that you don't want anything to do with me and that you have only entered into this agreement due to your sense of duty. I didn't want to put any unnecessary strain on you,"
She scoffs, "So you thought that isolating me, abandoning me, deserting me was the best way to handle this?"
He scowls, chugging back the last of his drink. He slams the glass down on the table and glares at her, "What do you want from me? It's been a long day,"
"I want...I wanted someone to talk to, to eat meals with." Clarissa says, "To hopefully be my friend..."
"We can never be friends," He says darkly.
She grits her teeth at the blank look he is giving her and glowers, "Fine, but can you at least acknowledge my existence? Or is that too much to ask?" Her nails dig into the armrests as she fights to control her temper, "Because my life has been ripped away from me and I am alone. You have forbidden half my family to visit me and I cannot step outside to visit my friends without being hounded by person after person, all wanting something from me. Do you have any idea what that is like?"
She waits expectantly for his answer but one doesn't come. He simply looks away from her, almost as though he is lost in thought, although the impassive expression on his face says otherwise. She exhales, shaking her head in disgust and folding her arms. She hadn't intended to get as riled as she is now, but she wanted to clear the air about what happened prior to the explosion before they discuss it. It doesn't sit right with her that she bent the truth and was petty towards him when they now have bigger issues. She is debating whether to leave when Daniel breaks the silence.
"Why did you say you couldn't swim?"
She swallows and looks down into her lap, "I thought you were going to drown me,"
"Why?"
His simple question causes her mind to wander back to her open drawer and the vial of hemlock. She bites her lip, not willing to bear quite that much truth in the open. She clears her throat, "You evaded me for two weeks, and then all of a sudden you wanted to take a boat ride together? What else was I to think?"
"You are no use to me dead," He replies.
She snorts, "Oh how comforting,"
His silver eyes bore into her, and his mouth twitches, "When are you going to trust me, angel?"
She leans forward, resting her forearms on her knees, and speaks painfully slowly, "You pushed me off a boat that exploded,"
"I saved your life," He snaps defensively, not pleased with her patronising tone, "If I hadn't set it off, it would have killed us before we hit the shore!"
"You set it off?!" She shouts, jumping to her feet, "Are you mad? We could have died!" Her mind is racing along with her heart as she processes this new information. She strides up and down in front of her chair, her hands on her head as she takes calming breathes, "You are mad, you set off the explosion, you almost blew us to pieces."
Daniel stands up and sizes her arm, holding her still, toe to toe, "If we had stayed on that boat we would have been blown to pieces!" He growls, "If I hadn't checked the hull while you were having your tantrum, it would have killed us before we reached the shore. Us, along with whoever was unfortunate to be within range, so be grateful that it wasn't worse,"
She regards him with wide eyes until he lets her go and swiftly turns away, leaning against the fireplace with his face is hidden by shadow. Clarissa falls back and sinks into her chair, crossing her legs and glaring ahead.
"Shouldn't you pleased then?" She says bitterly, "You saved the day,"
He shoots her a warning glare but she shrugs it off, her volatile temper in control of her words.
"Don't you love it? The noble and powerful Duke of Richmond saved everyone. It's a pity they won't know, we should all be at your feet, showering you with praise and gratitude," She sneers, "Our hero..."
Clarissa barely has time to blink before a shadow stalks over and a hand wraps itself around her throat, pressing her into the back of her chair. She immediately begins to claw against Daniel as he holds her tightly, a murderous expression in his eyes. Her nails rake over the skin of his knuckles but he doesn't blink.
"What are you doing?" She gasps, trying to twist out of his hold. He is not cutting off her oxygen but she is pretty sure he could snap her neck in one swift move if he chooses to.
"I am not a hero," He snarls, his eyes manically raving over her face, "Don't you ever dare to say such a thing again. I will never be a hero and neither will you!"
She stills in his grasp, her hands resting around his at her throat. She tilts her head as well as she is able to look up into his terrible expression. She recognises the fear and hatred that she often wears herself, "Are you scared?"
"What?" His grip tightens and his nostrils flare.
"Does it scare you that there are people out there who see you as a hero?" She taunts, her nails digging into his skin, "Does it wreck you to know that even after all your crimes and all your sins, there are people who have respect and admiration for you? Isn't it terrifying how naive people can be?"
The hand around her throat instantly falls away as though it has been burned and the duke strides away from her, his fists clenched, Clarissa touches the pink skin around her neck, frozen in her seat.
"I apologise for putting my hands on you," Daniel says from behind her, "I have offended you deeply and I cannot put into words my regret," His voice has become calm and fixed, as though a wall has come down over his emotions. He sighs regretfully, "I overreacted to your words when you said nothing improper, the fault is my own,"
"No, no you don't get to do that," Clarissa states, springing up and grabbing the poker stick by the fire.
She holds it out in front of her, brandishing it like a sword. Daniel spins around and leaps out of the way just in time as she advances on him. He steps backwards until he hits the wall and has nowhere to run. Clarissa presses the tip of the stick into his jugular, keeping her hand steady so that she doesn't accidentally nick him.
"You have no right to do that," She repeats, "I angered you by calling you a hero and you rightly wanted me to hurt me for that because I pushed you. That's fine, that's what you wanted to do because that was your truth," She fixes him with a fierce glare, "You can hate me and threaten me, but you do not get to lie to me, and pretend that everything is fine when I am the person that will understand more than any other,"
He regards her with caution, a little in awe of her fury.
"Because I am right, aren't I?" She presses, "You hate being called a hero, you hate being revered and liked because no one actually knows what you've done, or who are. Their opinions are based on nothing more than the smokescreen you have created, and you despise it,"
"Does it make you happy to have me figured out?" Daniel snaps, knocking the poker stick away with his right hand. The sharp point scratches a thick line across his throat but it doesn't break the skin. The weapon falls to Clarissa's side, a dead weight in her hand. He pushes past her and walks over to his chair. There is a pause and then he faces her, spreading his arms dramatically.
"Yes, I hate it. I hate everything about it. I hate the way they praise me, the way they respect me and seek my approval," He shudders, "And most of all, I hate the way they care so fucking much,"
There is silence around the room and the two of them just stare at each other. Clarissa looks at the stick in her hand and walks over to the fire, placing it in its original place.
"I hate it too," She admits in a small voice, folding her hands in front of her and looking at the floor.
"I hate that people talk to me, and that they talk to me like I am innocent." She says, "If they knew the truth....."
"If they knew the truth they would never talk to us again," Daniel replies, sitting on the edge of his chair, "They will never know what we have done or what we will do in the future. We are the only ones that will ever truly know who we are."
She turns to him, "I don't want to be alone like that," She whispers, "But I am not sure there is a person that wouldn't walk away if I bore my soul to them. They'd have to be a saint,"
"Or equally broken," Daniel counters. Clarissa raises her head and their eyes meet.
"Or equally broken," She agrees.
He smiles wryly, "May I ask you something?"
"I suppose,"
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
He runs a hand down his face and looks intently at her, "I've hidden away from society until now, but you have lived both your lives in heart of it. How do you do it?"
She inhales, sitting back down. It is not the question she is expecting and she takes a moment to think before she answers, "It's hard, to pretend to be something you are not, better or worse, but I force myself to think that if it's not me pretending, lying, and making the choices that I make, then it would be someone else and I wouldn't have the freedom to choose because I would be a pawn rather than a queen, " She looks uncomfortable but continues to speak, "I don't want to be limited to two moves, which is what my life would be if I didn't do what I do. I don't pretend that I am the best person to play god, but I think that it could be much worse than me."
Daniel doesn't respond. He sits there, considering her thoughtfully, his eyebrows pulled together.
"See, this isn't so bad," She says lightly, "We only threatened each other once, and managed to get through a whole conversation."
He laughs, his blonde hair catching the light, "It is not as excruciating as I thought, you are quite tolerable,"
"How charming," Clarissa says dryly.
The door opening blocks out Danel's reply as it is thrown open and George runs in. He strides over and engulfs his brother in a bear hug before anyone can say a word. To Clarissa's surprise, the duke hugs him back with equal affection. George mutters something to him and he shakes his head and claps his brother on the shoulder.
"And Clarissa, bloody hell," George murmurs, pulling her to her feet and embracing her too. She squeezes him back, bewildered but comforted at his touch.
"I can't believe what happened," He says when they break apart, "Baines?"
"No doubt," Daniel replies. George swears.
"It seems very opportunistic at least," He says, "Not a legitimate attempt on your lives,"
"It would have been legitimate if they had succeeded," Clarissa says, "But we were fortunate that Daniel did what he did," She looks to her husband, "It could be much worse,"
The corners of his mouth curl upwards but George is too busy shaking his head to notice their secret exchange.
"What are we going to do? We are so close to pinpointing the both of them, but we can't rush it."
"Clary?" Daniel inquires. Both brothers look at her expectantly.
"We stay on course," She says firmly, "Send a message to John and Peter to double the patrol and the guard. No one goes anywhere without someone else knowing but we stick to the original plan and pretend that nothing happened."
Daniel nods, "I agree, we cannot let them know that they got to us,"
"I'll send the message right away," George says, "I am just relieved you are both well," His eyes drop from her face and travel down her body. He frowns, "Are you wearing a robe?"
"What?" Daniel blinks also looking at her clothes, his eyes widen as he glances from her to his brother. He jumps into action covering George's eyes and swivelling him around. He begins pushing him towards the door, muttering threats into his ear as they move.
Clarissa watches them argue, amused and feeling slightly more positive despite the heat of the afternoon. Part of her hopes that this explosion, alarming as it may be, might just be the turning of the corner in her relationship with the Cavendish brothers.