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from Aunt Sophia had caused him to
recollect his audience.
    Clarissa blinked away the memory. So she was somewhere in
Kent, at the estate of the marquess of St. Tarval, whose father had been a
wastrel, and who now was a smuggler. And he had apparently dragged his sister
into it. Her gratitude for the rescue was mixed with apprehension.
    The door opened and Alice came in, bearing a tray. “Good
morning, Miss. Lady Kitty sent some tea, and I should say that she is glad to
lend you a gown and anything else you might need. And she invites you to
breakfast in the morning room, that I am to bring it to you if you are wishful.”
    “Pray convey my thanks to Lady Catherine, and inform her I
shall join her as soon as possible.”
    Rosina entered, wearing an ill-fitting servant’s gown. She
laid an arm-load of fabric before Clarissa, saying, “Mrs. Finn, that’s the
housekeeper, is ever so kind. And Lady Kitty sent these for you, until your
traveling gown can be cleaned and mended.”
    “Lady Kitty?” Clarissa asked.
    Rosina blushed. “She bade me call her that herself.”
    “Then all is as it should be.” Clarissa turned her attention
to a gown of good muslin, though, like everything else in this house, it was
worn.
    It was also somewhat too wide, and the flounces at the hem
ended closer to her ankles that to the tops of her feet. Rosina tied the sash
under the bosom. When Clarissa glanced in a spotted mirror at her reflection,
she observed the puckers and folds, reflecting that Lady Catherine had not
seemed any larger than she, though she was certainly shorter. Then she looked
closer at the striped poplin, and saw that it had been remade, probably from a robe volante , which meant it might not
have been originally Lady Catherine’s, either. Her gaze transferred to the side
of her head, and then away from the purple bruise.
    Alice had departed, so that Rosina could help Clarissa
dress, but she reappeared and dropped a hasty curtsy, then unspooled a carefully
coached message. “I am to say that his lordship sends his respects. He must
needs go away on business, and he joins his sister to invite you to remain as
long as you need, but the coach can
be ordered put to if you are wishful to leave at once.”
    Clarissa thanked her, sat down, her hear swimming
sickeningly. At no time was she comfortable closed in a coach. Now the thought
was unbearable. Surely Aunt Sophia would wish to rest a day or so, as Lady
Kitty’s guests?
    o0o
    She did not. Aunt Sophia insisted upon leaving at once, a
prospect that left Clarissa looking so obviously ill that Aunt Sophia hit upon
the notion of traveling back into Hampshire, and sending their own carriage,
plus Clarissa’s clothing, back for her. No Sacrifice was considered to be Too
Large, she insisted several times as Clarissa thankfully accepted this
amendment.
    Lady Kitty repeated her brother’s invitation, with the
result that, four hours later, Clarissa clasped her aunt’s gloved hand as she
sincerely wished her farewell.
    The St. Tarval servants had labored long that night to
restore her clothing to a semblance of normal, but Aunt Sophia did not appear
grateful for this or for the pillow-lined, ancient berlin waiting below in the
court, with Becky and Bardle already seated inside, a packed hamper between
them.
    “... A more tumbledown barrack I have never seen,” Aunt
Sophia said agitatedly. “Clarissa, it is my duty to express my misgivings at
leaving you here in this dreadful house. There was something not quite right
about things last night. Ill as I was, I could not but observe some
irregularities.” When Clarissa dismissed these, Aunt Sophia clasped her hands
with the air of one offering an unassailable argument, “And what must people think, your staying in the home of a man
of the old marquess’s reputation?”
    For the first time in five years, Clarissa was thankful for
the fact that her aunt considered her on the shelf. “No one will think anything
of an aging