Chapter 4

Clarisse managed to reach the Royal Apartments without incident. Thanking Felix the footman softly, as he opened the door she walked into the suite. She didn't notice Felix's concerned look as he quietly shut the door, resuming his position outside the suite. Clarisse walked over to the leaded windows, and leant her head against the cool glass, sighing deeply. She stared out the glass unseeingly, her eyes dry. It was times like this she wished she could take solace in tears but crying had always been difficult for her. She didn't like the feeling of being out of control when she cried, so she rarely cried. She could remember only a handful of times when she sought solace in tears. One of those times was when her mother, actually her step-mother had died. Lady Margaret had been the only mother Clarisse had ever known. When she had died when Clarisse was eleven and Catherine eight, Clarisse had cried.

She remembered how she cried and cried until her aunt had told her to stop snivelling. She hadn't been able to stop crying so Aunt Beatrice had locked her in her room, where she said she wouldn't have to hear her wailing. Aunt Beatrice had then comforted Catherine, holding her as her sister cried. Clarisse had cried herself to sleep that night and when she woke the next morning, everything seemed to have changed.

It wasn't until years later that Clarisse realized that with the death of her step-mother, Beatrice had a clear field to her father, much good it did her. While her father may have listened to Aunt Beatrice's advice, he refused to allow her to occupy any position other than that of a concerned aunt. All of Beatrice's plans to become the next Countess of Liston failed. The blame of which she laid solely at Clarisse's feet.

Clarisse moved away from the window and gingerly took a seat in one of the chairs before the fire. Her bottom hurt, but not as much as it had immediately after Rupert had spanked her. She sighed and stared into the fire.

What did she do now?

She didn't know.

If she had been spanked prior to her marriage she would have taken a switch to the man who dare lay a hand on her. But now she was married; married to the Crown Prince and under the law her body belonged to her husband, to do with as he wished. If he wished to beat her, it was his right and no one would interfere.

Clarisse leaned her head back against the chair.

Life had been so much simpler prior to her marriage. Now every choice she made not only reflected on her, but also reflected on the Royal family. And while she might not like her husband Rupert at the moment, Their Majesties had been nothing but kind to her, and she wouldn't do anything to embarrass them.

This left her with a dilemma.

If she reacted as she was want to do, she would surely embarrass Their Majesties, but she couldn't ignore the disservice Rupert had perpetrated against her. To do so would allow Rupert to think he could treat her with disrespect at any time.

Clarisse continued to ponder her situation, arriving at various conclusions and summarily dismissing them just as quickly. Finally, she arrived at a solution that might just work, but it would take all her cunning and skill to do so. Would she be able to carry it through to the end? She hoped so. Everything hinged on her being able to do so.

Clarisse stood and rang for the maids. Once they arrived she ordered a bath to be brought to the suite, uncaring if they thought her request strange. Once the bath arrived, and set in front of the fire then filled she dismissed the hovering maids, refusing their requests to aid her in undressing. She needed no help; she was quite adept at dressing and undressing on her own. Rarely were the maids at home free to help her, most often they were engaged in assisting her aunt and sister.

Making sure the additional warming buckets were close enough to grab, Clarisse climbed into the tub fully nude, sighing as the hot water eased the discomfort of her bottom. Leaning her head against the curved edge, Clarisse closed her eyes, and let the warmth of the water ease the tension from her. Soon she was dozing lightly, exhausted from previous night and day's events.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rupert drank another toast to himself. This was his second one. He had managed to avoid actually drinking the other six, but this one he was unable to avoid. He drank the goblet of wine, sat it down on the table and before anyone else began to make another toast he spoke.

"I thank you all for your well wishes but I have a meeting I must attend so I wish you good day."

"A meeting," drawled Viscount Mabrey. "Is that what they are calling it now?" His cronies laughed heartily at the Viscount's joke.

Rupert glared and for a brief moment his hand went to the hilt of his sword hanging from his side. The urge to skewer the Viscount on its point was stayed by Joseph's hand. The look in Joseph's eyes was one he rarely saw and with a stiff nod of his head Rupert turned on his heel and left the room. Joseph followed but not before whispering an order into Scott's ear concerning the Viscount and his cronies.

Joseph followed Rupert into his study, closing and securing the door. Rupert moved to his desk and began to read the various missives that lay there, his attention on them and not on Joseph. Joseph removed his scabbard and sword from his side, laying them on the table before he walked over to Rupert.

"Rupert," Joseph said quietly.

"Hmmm?" answered Rupert, engrossed in the letter from the Spanish Crown requesting yet more trade negotiations.

"Rupert," Joseph repeated.

Rupert turned to look fully at Joseph. His reactions were a second to slow to avoid Joseph's fist connecting with his jaw. Rupert staggered backwards, tripping over the desk leg and landed flat on his arse. He looked up at Joseph and rubbed his sore jaw.

"What the hell was that for?" Rupert asked, from his position on the floor.

"That was from my wife," said Joseph. Reaching down to help the other man up, Joseph waited until Rupert was standing once more before he landed another punch to Rupert's jaw, knocking the Crown Prince flat on his arse once again.

Rupert glared up at his friend and asked, "And that one?"

"From me," answered Joseph. Joseph offered his hand once again to Rupert. Rupert warily accepted it, standing quickly and moving out of range of Joseph's fists.

"Why?" asked Rupert.

"Clarisse…patio…," said Joseph, not bothering to explain further.

Rupert rubbed his sore jaw and raked a hand through his hair before collapsing in a chair.

Rupert knew his actions earlier were wrong and appalling, but when he saw Clarisse beating her beautiful sister he had lost his temper. He knew he should have asked first why she was acting in such a manner, but when Catherine had looked at him, the tears in her eyes emphasizing the beauty of her eyes, he felt uncontrollable rage. Rage that someone would harm such a lovely creature and he let that rage control his actions. Now, looking into the face of his oldest and dearest friend he found his insides tied into knots, almost physically ill at memory of his actions.

What was he to do now? He couldn't apologize. A simple apology wouldn't suffice.

He had embarrassed Clarisse. He would be lucky if she wasn't looking to put his stones in a velvet lined bag.

Rupert looked at Joseph. Maybe Joseph would have an idea of what he should do. After all, he was married. Rupert took a deep breath and asked, "Any advice?"