Free Playing to Win by Diane Farr Page B

never joked
with us."
    "Ah?"
    "That is why I did not perfectly
understand you, when you were funning," she explained.
    "Ah." He gave himself a mental shake.
"I take it Miss Bathurst was not an exhilarating
companion."
    "Oh, she was the best of women!"
Clarissa said quickly. "But not—well, not precisely hilarious. She
did not approve of levity."
    "You poor child!"
    "A goose got into the parlor once,"
offered Clarissa. "That was droll."
    "Miss Bathurst did not mind your
laughing at the goose?"
    Clarissa dimpled enchantingly. "No,
because I was careful not to ridicule the goose, or shame her in
any way."
    He broke into laughter. God, she was
irresistible. He must find some way to lure this delicious creature
into his bed. If it took him all winter, he silently vowed, he
would win her acquiescence.
    A pity, of course, that he had to win
her acquiescence, but that could not be helped. It was unthinkable
to take advantage of her now that he was convinced of her
innocence. He had always despised men who forced or bullied women.
No, she must come to him of her own free will. But he would use
every means within his power—as a gentleman—to convince Clarissa
that the life La Gianetta had planned for her was far superior to
the life she had chosen for herself. A governess! God grant him
patience! What a shocking waste of so much loveliness.
    But Clarissa's laughter had dissolved,
and alarm was dilating her eyes. Their speed had slackened. She
grasped the strap as the coach turned into a lane. "Where are we?"
she asked nervously, lifting the curtain beside her to peer
out.
    Mr. Whitlatch glanced briefly at the
passing trees. "Morecroft Cottage, I imagine. Allow me to hand you
your bonnet."
    He placed it in her hands, but she made
no move to put it on. She had paled again, and had the tense,
hunted look of a trapped fawn.
    "Pray do not make me go in," she
gasped. "I cannot. Oh, I cannot!"
    His eyebrows shot up. "My good girl, I
will not make you do anything," he said, with some asperity.
"You may sit in the coach all night, if you prefer. But since that
sounds like a dashed uncomfortable proposition to your humble
servant, I hope you will forgive me if I remove to the
cottage."
    He placed his own hat on his head as he
spoke. She still sat, clutching her bonnet in an agony of
indecision. He felt a stab of pity for her. She was really in an
impossible position, the poor little innocent. And she had really
done nothing to put herself there.
    The coach slowed to a stop. They could
hear the horses blowing and stamping. There was a rocking motion as
the driver began to clamber down from his perch. The door would
open at any moment. Tears of fright were gathering in Clarissa's
eyes.
    Mr. Whitlatch reached out swiftly to
cover one of her small, cold hands with his own.
    "You have nothing to fear," he said
quietly. "I am no ravisher of virtuous females. Put on your bonnet
and come in the house like a good girl. We will decide in the
morning what is best to be done."
    She stared helplessly at him. Then,
without a word, she placed her bonnet on her head and began to tie
the ribbons. Her demeanor was as tragic as if she were going to the
scaffold, and he noticed her hands were shaking. He smiled
encouragingly at her. As if in a trance, she stuffed her gloves
into her reticule and picked up her muff.
    Then the cold light of a November
afternoon flooded the carriage as the door was opened for them, and
Miss Feeney and Mr. Whitlatch were handed down.

Chapter 6
     
    Clarissa, stepping from the carriage,
found herself on a neat, graveled drive. She was facing the
loveliest house she had ever seen.
    Indignation stirred within her. Had she
been deliberately misled, or was Morecroft Cottage named in a
spirit of irony? Despite its mullioned windows, climbing ivy and
picturesque appearance, this was no cottage! This was the residence
of a gentleman, not a peasant. It was several stories high, large,
beautiful, and extremely well-kept.
    Any hope she had