Clementine and Her Stalker Chapter Five (standard:romance, 2935 words) [6/7] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Mar 17 2021	Views/Reads: 961/621	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Tony Williams encounters a beautiful public schoolgirl while on Stamford Meadows. Little knowing that the 18-year-old is the notorious Lady Clementine St Lodes.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

door open, prompting a glare from the already unsettled earl. 

“Your daughter is beyond all control.” The countess thrust herself down
on the plush Chesterfield sofa as the earl sighed and turned to face 
her. “I don't know why you sent her to Stamford. It's had no effect 
whatsoever, except to induce further deterioration in her behaviour, 
something that beforehand I would have deemed impossible. And would you 
believe, she now claims to have recovered her memory and claims it was 
this wretched Stalker man who retrieved her from the Thames.” The 
countess raked a hand through her hair, sprung up, made for the drinks 
cabinet, snatched a glass and poured an ample measure of Scotch. The 
earl eyed her with disdain. “Resorting to that at this time of the day 
is hardly going to help.” 

“Which is why you have a drinks cabinet in your study, is it?” The earl
expended a heavy breath. “I take it you adopted your usual, 
heavy-handed approach?” 

“Oh really.” The countess glanced upwards with exasperation, took a swig
of whisky, placed her glass down and leaned forward, hands clasped 
tightly together. “Have you fully anticipated the implications of this? 
Have you really? What about the press? What about that? I can see it 
now. ‘The wild child aristocrat, plucked out of the Thames,' they're 
really going to lap this one up.” 

The earl sprung to his feet, his ruddy features darkening. “Is that all
you care about?” He shook his head. “First, we need to establish 
exactly what happened here, and indeed, who extracted Clementine from 
the river. If it wasn't Guy, then our nephew has been lying to us, and 
if indeed it was this –  this Stalker fellow, then we need to examine 
our attitude towards him.” 

Before the countess could summon a reply, the earl stormed out of his
study. 

*** 

“What now!” Clementine sighed at the knock on her door and prepared
herself for another intrusion. Her father entered, closing the door 
behind him. “How are you feeling, my dear?” 

“As well as can be expected in the circumstances.” Clementine turned her
gaze towards the window. 

“Hmmm. Circumstances that you appear to have orchestrated yourself.” The
earl pulled a chair to Clementine's bedside, and she switched her blue 
eyes back to him. “At least you don't appear to be blaming poor 
Stalker.” Ignoring Clementine's remark, the earl said, “Your mother 
tells me your memory has returned. I have to say that she doesn't sound 
convinced. I suspect she feels like you're trying to protect him.” 

“No – that's Mother for you.” Clementine shook her head, placed thumb
and forefinger to her forehead. “I recall now, struggling to stay 
afloat but slipping beneath the surface, but just before I did, I saw 
Stalker leap into the water, fully clothed. I didn't see Guy anywhere.” 


The earl placed his elbow on his knee, cupped his chin with the palm of
his right hand, and studied Clementine intently. “You realise that I'll 
do all that I can to check the validity of what you say.” 

“Feel free, Father.” Clementine let out a heavy breath. “I realise that
I might not be the model daughter, Father, but I do not tell lies, 
unlike, it would appear, my cousin.” 

The earl left his seat, paced towards the window, stared out towards the
lush, green grounds of his estate, and then swung back towards his 
daughter. 

“Clementine, were this to be true, what exactly is your relationship
with this – er – Stalker fellow? You see, the way that you speak of 
him, the tag you appear to have given him – it suggests a relationship 
shall we say beyond friendship level. Stalker is not ...” 

“No, Father, allow me to interrupt you, but I can see where you're going
with this. Stalker is not his name, it is simply a nickname, but that 
doesn't imply anything other than friendship.” 

A nerve twitched in the earl's cheek. “I sense otherwise – and were that
to be the case, I would strongly advise that you reconsider this 
‘friendship' forthwith.” 

Clementine drew a hand across her forehead, stared up at the ceiling
before angling her head at the earl. “Father, to all intents and 
purposes, it is already terminated. I've no doubt that what little of 
my schooling remains at Stamford will be curtailed, and therefore there 
is no longer any connection between ...” 

“That is correct,” the earl interrupted, “and bearing in mind your
impromptu and foolhardy escapades in London with this chap, you are 
effectively grounded as of now until your eighteenth birthday. You will 
not leave this estate, do you hear?” 

“I can't very well not hear, Father.” And on the earl's glare,
Clementine added, “I mean, am I to be restricted to the confines of 
this room for the entire ...” 

“Of course not,” the earl snapped. “But you will remain here until Dr
Gilbert has examined you this afternoon.” The earl headed for the door 
but turned back with his hand on the brass handle. “And remember my 
advice with regards to – er ...” 

“Stalker ... yes, Father.” Clementine glanced away, rolling her eyes. 

*** 

The earl paced his study, phone to his right ear. “Administration? Yes –
yes, this is the Earl of Hamborough speaking. My daughter, Lady 
Clementine St Lodes was admitted on Saturday evening after having 
slipped and fallen into the River Thames. Forgive me, I should have 
enquired earlier as to the exact circumstances regarding her admission 
during my visit yesterday. Unfortunately, I neglected to do so. The 
shock, you understand. Are you able to provide me with an account of 
her admission? I mean by that, any details reported by your staff in 
attendance at the scene itself." 

The earl stopped his pacing, waited as the woman came back after a short
delay. Just one moment, Earl, I'll connect you to the Health Care 
Executive.” A few seconds later, the executive came on line. 

“Good morning, Earl. I apologise for the brief delay; however, I can
advise you that Lady Clementine was accompanied by a local GP, Dr 
Raymond Knowles, who treated her at the scene and travelled to the 
hospital along with the ambulance crew. I can supply you with his 
contact details should you so desire it.” 

“Yes, yes, please do. I would like to thank the fellow profusely, and no
doubt he will provide me with further details of the incident.” 

“Well, I do believe he was present when the incident occurred, Earl.” 

“Excellent. Many thanks.” The earl took down the details and bid the man
goodbye. 

*** 

The phone rang in the earl's study. Reaching across the desk, he picked
it up to be met by the voice of Evans, his long-serving butler. “Dr 
Knowles on the line, Earl. I believe you were expecting a call from 
him. I'll put it through.” 

“Thank you, Evans." The earl had phoned Knowles earlier, but the GP had
been out on his calls. 

“Dr Knowles, good day to you. Thank you for returning my call. Doctor, I
gather you were present at the time of my daughter's unfortunate slip 
into the Thames?” 

“Yes, that's correct, Earl. Your daughter was in some distress after the
unfortunate incident, but her boyfriend was on hand to help. I checked 
her condition before accompanying the ambulance to the hospital.” 

Colouring considerably, the earl asked, “I'm not so sure Lady Clementine
has a male suitor, but would you mind describing the fellow briefly?” 

“Of course. I'm afraid I merely assumed that to be the case – let me
see, dark haired, of slim build, a little above average height, I 
suppose. – poor fellow was so concerned, and he leapt into the river 
fully clothed. I provided accommodation for him for the night and a 
change of clothes, courtesy of my son, who was with me. Oh, and I 
believe his name was Tony ...” 

“Stalker ... er, Williams, the earl finished, tapping his fingers on the
desk and cupping his chin with his other hand. “That answers my 
question comprehensively. Please accept my thanks for your prompt 
attention, and if there is anything I can do by way of remuneration 
...” 

“No, no, Earl. I won't hear of it. Your thanks are enough.” “Then
goodbye, dear fellow.” 

The earl put the phone down, scratched his brow. There was obviously
more to this young fellow than met the eye. Thanking him would indeed 
be necessary. But more problematic was the prospect of a developing 
relationship between Stalker and his daughter. This could not be 
allowed to happen. Celia's suspicions were already heightened, and 
given her penchant for social esteem and pretentiousness, any 
association would cause an uproar that could travel beyond the confines 
of Hamborough Hall. A word in Stalker's ear, while thanking him, the 
earl mused, should put an end to the problem, and the less Clementine 
knew of it, the better. 

*** 

“You have a face like thunder. More fool you for doubting your nephew's
word.” Celia looked up from her seat at the dining table and scoffed. 
“You've had a conversation with the doctor, no doubt, and ...” 

“And he confirms that our dear nephew has been lying through his teeth,”
the earl interrupted, bitterness in his tone. As the countess's eyes 
narrowed, and her complexion paled, he added, “His description also 
confirms that it was indeed this Stalker fellow who intervened and 
retrieved Clementine from the river ...” 

“But ... but there must be some mistake, James – this doctor has got his
facts wrong, that is all. I shall phone Guy at once and get him to 
correct this ridiculous ...” 

“Leave it,” the earl boomed, his deep voice resonating around the
spacious dining room. “There is no mistake. His description matches the 
young man to a tee. I will deal with Guy later, that is not the main 
issue here. The fact is that I ... we ... owe this Stalker – er – 
Williams, I believe, our thanks. 

“After which, Celia,” the earl took his seat at the other end of the
twelve-seater dining table, “I shall ensure that no further contact 
exists between the young man and Clementine.” The earl sighed. “I can 
read you like a book, Celia.” The countess waited until the maid had 
placed bowls of game soup at each end of the table and departed, and 
asked, “And how do you propose to do that?” 

The earl picked up a spoon, raised it towards his mouth. “I have my
ways.” 

“Just as long as any connection is well and truly truncated,” the
countess said, swirling her spoon around her soup. “I'll never live 
this down if this becomes common knowledge. As if her antics until now 
haven't been troublesome enough. Clementine, the daughter of an earl 
and countess dating a commoner – and with a name like Stalker, of all 
things. Really ...” 

The earl padded his lips with a serviette. I've already told you, it's
not his actual name but one that ...” 

“That our daughter has bestowed upon him. Imagine the ignominy of it.”
The countess swept her free arm wide, “Introducing Mr Stalker.” 

The earl rolled his eyes, placed his spoon down and clutched his
forehead. “But I've already told you, Celia, this will not be allowed 
to happen.” 

The countess sniffed, pushed her soup bowl aside. “So tell me please,
how do you propose to thank this man and then warn him off?” “By 
inviting him here,” the earl said, leaning back as the maid came in for 
their soup bowls. 

The countess frowned. “Oh, please, James, have you gone mad. Right under
Clementine's nose? There is obviously a growing attachment and we are 
surely seeking to prevent it, not encourage it.” 

“I have thought about it carefully. I do not wish to go into detail at
this stage, but rest assured, it will set the matter straight.” 

“It had better,” the duchess said acerbically. Or I will never live it
down.” 

“Me neither,” the earl uttered beneath his breath as he hurriedly left
the room. 

*** Clementine sat in bed aimlessly flicking through her TV channels.
Her thoughts were elsewhere. 

She wondered what Stalker was doing now that he'd returned to Stamford.
She was furious that Guy had claimed responsibility for recovering her 
from the Thames, which had been an outright lie. It was also a stupid 
action because when Father discovered the truth og what happened, and 
there was every likelihood that he would, somehow, what then? Oh, that 
she should accuse anyone of stupid actions, she of all people! But 
there it was – this was worse than stupid – it was downright deceitful. 


Anyhow, when Father found out, Guy would be discredited, rightly so, and
Clementine dearly hoped that Stalker would get the credit he deserved. 

But what of Stalker now? She found her mind travelling continuously in
his direction, even if physically, she could not. Confined to 
Hamborough Hall until her eighteenth birthday with no prospect of 
seeing him again. 

No doubt her parents suspected something; in any event, their suspicions
had leaked out in their questioning. And no doubt also, there was 
something afoot downstairs. The doctor had been to visit her two hours 
back and had been happy enough with her recovery, and yet her parents 
had insisted she remain in bed for the rest of the day as a safety 
measure. 

Meaning she got to receive her evening meal via Evans, the butler, while
they were no doubt free to discuss her at length downstairs. Huh! One 
way or another, she was going to get to Stalker – if they thought that 
two weeks' detention would solve matters, they were very much mistaken. 


In truth, Clementine herself didn't understand what was going on between
them – just that there was something developing – something there. 
Something that was not going to be nipped in the bud if she had her 
way, and she believed he felt the same way too. Except that she was 
aristocracy and Stalker was not – tosh in her eyes. In two weeks that 
would account for nothing. Problem was, she didn't even have a mobile 
now to contact him – it had expired in the Thames, and the chances of 
acquiring another were presently nil. Mother and Father would see to 
that. 

Clementine huffed, leaned back against the headrest, and began flicking
aimlessly through the channels once more.
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