Page 6 of Miss Debenham's Secret
“Who is this fellow you have invited to afternoon tea?Do I know him?”
Clarissa sighed inwardly.She just knew her father would be difficult.
“Lieutenant McKay, Father.He is in the navy and staying here while his ship is being repaired.”
“Where is his ship then?Is it here in Lyme?”
“No, it isn’t—”
“Shouldn’t he be with his ship then?And is Mr.Marly coming?At least then I would have someone sensible to talk to.”
“Lieutenant McKay is sensible, father.He knows all about the navy and the war against Napoleon.You know how you like to read the newspapers and discuss the war news.You can talk about it all with Lieutenant McKay, who has actually been there.And his ship is in dry dock being repaired so he cannot stay aboard; he has to wait until he is called up again and can go to sea.The Admiralty has to issue orders.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.“You seem very well informed as to this fellow’s business, miss.”
Clarissa felt herself blushing and wished she was not so prone to it.“Lieutenant McKay sometimes walks with me to school in the mornings,” she said airily.
And we meet afterwards and walk again, or we meet on the Cobb, and next week he is going to take me for a ride in a hired carriage to see the fossils in the cliffs west along the coast.Not that she was going to tell her father any of those things.It occurred to her that once upon a time she told him everything; she felt it was her duty to do so, and because she told him everything he never allowed her to do anything.Well nothing exciting, anyway.Now that she told him as little as possible her life was so much more interesting.
She determined to explain that to Alistair.It would make him laugh and she’d discovered that she liked to make him laugh.There was a sadness in Alistair, something in his past, and although she wondered what it was she was far too polite to ask.
“Are you sure Mr.Marly isn’t coming?”her father grumbled.“He is a fine young man, you know, with a promising future.I had hoped ...”He saw her surprise and shrugged.“Oh well, I suppose he would hardly marry you anyway.”
Clarissa felt tears sting her eyes but she refused to let them fall.She waited as he left the parlour and then she took a deep breath.Did he mean to be so unpleasant to her, she wondered?Or was it just a habit after a lifetime—her lifetime—of speaking his thoughts without thinking, without considering her feelings at all?And the awful thing was that at one time she might have agreed with him; after all why would a man like Marly, so handsome, and with such a bright future ahead of him, want to marry a plain little nobody like her?
But lately she had begun to believe she had more to offer than she’d realised, that she could be quite amusing and interesting in her own right.At least she was if Alistair was to be believed.Alistair made her feel amusing and interesting.She liked the version of herself she was with him, so much better, she realised suddenly, than the little mouse she was around Mr Marly.
I won’t let Father spoil this, she told herself determinedly.Who knows how long Alistair will be here?And I want to enjoy every moment that he is, and I refuse to allow anyone to spoil it.I deserve a little bit of happiness and I am going to have it.Even if it is fleeting and doesn’t last it will be something to remember for the rest of my life.
Chapter five
CHAPTERFIVE
Alistair had not been to Clarissa’s home but it was much as he expected.A neat, well-kept, rather forbidding two storey cottage with little to show that Clarissa, with her blue eyes and sweet smile, lived here.It was her father’s domain and he was not looking forward to meeting Mr.Debenham.
From the things Clarissa had said and what he had worked out for himself, reading between the lines, he did not think he was going to like him.And yet it was important that Mr.Debenham liked him if he was to continue his gentle friendship with his daughter.He did not ask himself why it was so important to him to keep meeting with Clarissa but he had no illusions that if Mr.Debenham determined he was not to see Clarissa again, then it would be so.She would not disobey him.He had the impression that all her life she had lived under his thumb and it was hardly likely she would wriggle out from under it now, was it?
All Alistair knew was that it would be a pity if he could not walk with her again, or make her smile.He was making such good progress.Her smile was so much more natural now and her laughter had an unforced sound.She was happier altogether and he did not want her to slip back into her former gloomy ways.
Of course when he went back to sea she would be alone again.Well, he corrected himself, she would be without him!But Alistair was determined to write to her; to find amusing little anecdotes to tell her and then when he wrote them he could imagine her smiling.
Clarissa opened the door to him.She had already told him they did not have a maid, only a man who came to chop the wood and do some gardening.Clarissa did everything else.Alistair could imagine her waiting on her father hand and foot and being criticised constantly by him for doing nothing properly—not like her saintly mother.
She looked anxious, a little pale, and he knew she’d been worrying about his visit.Impulsively he took her hand and squeezed it gently.
“You didn’t have to do this you know.”
“I did,” she said determinedly.“I wanted to.”
“Well, let’s get it over with then.”
Clarissa nodded and led the way into the house.The little parlour was rather shabby but he could see she had picked some flowers from the garden and arranged them in a tiny vase.The table was set with a lacy cloth and her best china.There were sandwiches, cake and some scones with jam and clotted cream, as well as a teapot steaming with tea.
“Father,” she said with false cheer, “here is Lieutenant McKay.”
The man’s face was deeply lined and they were not laugh lines, Alistair thought with a mental grimace.Clearly he had been unhappy for a long time, probably since his wife died.But surely any father would have made an effort to shake off his depression for his daughter’s sake?Not this man, Alistair decided.It was as he feared—he could not like him—but he made an effort to please.
“Mr.Debenham, how do you do?”
