by Georgie Lee
Clara jumped back out of Hugh’s embrace, her heart racing at the starling interruption. Hugh didn’t move so fast, slowly lowering his arms and straightening as he stiffly turned to take in the woman watching them at the entrance to the hall.
She was a stunning blonde, much taller than Clara with a certain poise that whispered of a London polish. Her dress was of the newest fashion and cut far lower than Clara would have ever dared, revealing an enviable bust. She wore nothing more than a gold chain against her luminous skin and small white flowers in the elaborate curls of her hair.
She barely spared a glance for Clara, taking in nothing more than her large diamond and sapphire necklace which Clara was glad she’d worn. She almost felt gaudy in it beside this woman, but her inclination to cover it with her fan ended at the annoyed curl of the woman’s lips. Whoever this woman was, she was not happy to see Hugh with Clara and this set Clara on edge.
‘Who is she?’ Clara whispered to Hugh.
‘Lady Elizabeth Frances,’ Hugh said through clenched teeth.
Clara’s jaw dropped as low as Lady Fulton’s and Lord Westbook’s who’d stepped into the hall just in time to witness this scene, curse the busybodies. Both of their eyes widened in amazement before Lady Fulton narrowed hers with relish at what appeared to be the makings of a good tale, and a chance to best Clara.
‘What are you doing here?’ Hugh demanded of Lady Frances.
‘I’m a guest of Lady Tillman’s,’ she answered before Clara could warn her that they were not alone. ‘My cousin is acquainted with her and applied to her for invitation.’
Lady Frances glided towards Hugh like a boat on calm water, the wispy fabric of her skirt clinging a little too much to her slender legs. She came so close to him she crowded out Clara, who had no choice but to step aside or be struck by the woman’s enviable bosom. Lord Westbook and Lady Fulton took the opportunity to shift closer, too, stopping Lord and Lady Missington when they passed and encouraging them to watch. Clara was too stunned by all of this to reprimand any of them for so blatantly intruding on what was clearly a private conversation. ‘London can be so cold and lonely this time of year, especially for a young widow.’
Hugh didn’t answer, staring down at her not with the hot look one might expect for so finely built a woman, but with a disdain Clara felt creeping up her spine. His silence encouraged the woman to carry on.
‘Ever since I arrived this evening I’ve been searching for you.’ Her words sucked what remained of Clara’s cheer out of the hallway the way the flue did the smoke from a fireplace.
‘Now you’ve found me. What do you want?’ His brusque question at last wiped the simpering smile off the woman’s face.
Clara wanted to know, too, fearing that this ball was about to turn from the most magical into one as heartbreaking as the holiday six years ago.
Lady Frances stepped back, the same disgust filling Hugh’s eyes making her blue eyes hard. ‘To tell you I’m carrying your child.’
Chapter Ten
‘Impossible, I tell you, it’s impossible. We haven’t seen each other for six months,’ Hugh railed, storming the length of Adam’s bedroom at Stonedown. Adam stood across from Hugh, listening to him rant. His friend already knew what had happened in the hallway at the ball beneath the mistletoe. Hugh was beginning to curse that damned plant.
After Elizabeth’s none-too-subtle announcement, Clara had bolted from Hugh as fast as if he’d come down with the plague. Hugh had left soon after, not about to stand there and discuss so delicate a topic in such a public place. He’d returned to Stonedown, glad to see that Anne and Adam had possessed the clarity of mind to remove Clara from Holyfield and that Adam was still willing to speak with him. Hugh needed to explain the situation to the one man he could trust to listen without too much judgement. He would not lose this friendship because of a lying woman. ‘She doesn’t even look pregnant. Did you think she looked pregnant?’
‘With the current style of gown it’s difficult to tell. All ladies look as if they are a few months gone. I made the mistake of asking Anne if she was expecting once when she showed me a new gown. The look she gave me could have burned bread.’
‘I tell you, Lady Frances is lying.’ At a moment like this he wished he hadn’t given up drinking, but he need a clear head to handle this situation. One fogged up with spirits was how he’d landed himself in this mess.
‘I’ve heard no rumours of her taking up with another man and let’s be honest, Hugh, she wasn’t exactly discreet with you.’
‘Well, she’s either lying about the child or she’s become far more discreet. Either way, she obviously came here to make a spectacle out of herself and trap me in marriage. It makes her claim even more dubious.’
‘I agree that her method of approaching you was poorly planned and I have heard some rumours about her in London, especially in regards to debts.’
‘There are richer and more gullible men she could trap without resorting to tricks or theatrics.’ Suddenly the joke about Clara approaching sleeping lords and startling them into jumping to the altar didn’t seem so amusing any more. Nor was the look of horror that had crossed her face before she’d left him. The trust and affection he’d spent hours working to gain over these last few days had been wrecked in a matter of moments and by the one person he’d never expected to see in the country. Lady Elizabeth Frances wasn’t the country type.
‘There are richer men,’ Adam concurred, ‘but, for whatever reason, she’s chosen you.’
‘You must believe me; the child isn’t mine.’ He couldn’t even remember the last time he and Elizabeth had been intimate before they’d parted.
Adam picked up a silver comb off the dresser and tapped it against his palm. ‘If the child is yours, will you do right by it?’
Hugh took a deep breath as the chains of duty tightened around him and for the second time Clara would be the one to suffer because of it. By morning the entire countryside would know about what had happened at Holyfield and in a few days all their friends would learn of it by letter. He could practically hear the people in the adjoining rooms scribbling on the parchment in delight about this scandalous new tale. It was everything he hadn’t wanted, every complication he’d sought to avoid when it came to Clara. When he’d decided to pursue her a second time it’d been with the intention of acting honourably and safeguarding her heart and her trust in him. In one quick moment, everything he’d achieved with her had been destroyed. Heaven knew what Hugh would face when he saw Elizabeth again for she was sure to press her suit as publicly here at Stonedown as she’d done at Holyfield. With all the people eavesdropping on them at Holyfield, there hadn’t been time to speak privately to Elizabeth. Hopefully she’d returned to Stonedown as quickly as Clara for Hugh needed to resolve this with her as soon, and as discreetly, as possible. Until then, too much hung in the balance. ‘I must find a way to make her confess the truth.’
‘And if what she’s saying is the truth?’
‘I tell you it isn’t.’ Hugh brought his fist down hard on the top of the mantel, making the porcelain figures decorating it rattle. ‘And I won’t lose Clara again because of some lying woman.’
‘After Lady Frances’s display tonight, I don’t think Clara would have you even if Lady Frances stood in the middle of Rotten Row and declared some other man the father.’
Hugh dug his fists into his hips and stared at a scuff on the floor, the truth in Adam’s words as difficult to hear as what Elizabeth had said. He’d seen Clara’s cheeks flush with embarrassment and horror after Elizabeth’s announcement. Then he’d heard the gasp of shock from Lady Fulton and Lord Westbook. Hugh, without meaning to, had humiliated her in front of the worst two people possible. No, she wasn’t likely to speak to him again. ‘It’s never been my intention to hurt her, but always things appear so far beyond my control.’
Before, there’d been the threat of an engagement
to Lady Hermione to temper his excitement with Clara, but this impediment had come at him out of nowhere. Hugh rested his elbow on the mantel and pressed his fingers against his forehead. Like the last challenge to Everburgh, no matter how hard he worked to free himself from debt and lawsuits and marriages of convenience, they sought him out like a hound does a fox and this time they were succeeding in bringing him down. ‘I can only ask a woman to forgive me so many times before she runs out of patience and understanding.’
‘Her brother, too. I’m afraid I must ask you not to come to Winsome in the New Year.’
Hugh lowered his hand and flexed his fingers before bringing them to rest on the cool marble. ‘I understand and I’m sorry, Adam.’
He truly was for the pain he’d caused his friend and Clara, and for all the mistakes he’d made that had led them to this moment. During the meagreness of his childhood, his visits to Winsome had always been a chance to forget the hardships and deprivation at home, to enjoy being a boy without worrying about food or bills or the darkness of the manor. He’d hoped to find there with his oldest friend that same comfort again and yet by his own mistakes he’d ruined his ability to enjoy that kind of peace ever again. It tore at him as much as having lost Clara for a second time.
‘I’m not the one you should apologise to,’ Adam suggested.
‘I will speak with her.’ He didn’t know when or how, for she wasn’t likely to see him again, much less allow him to say the words, none of which would make this awful situation any better or repair the damage Elizabeth’s scene had caused to Clara’s opinion of Hugh and to his future. Once more, he’d been on the verge of finding love with Clara and it was being torn away from him. It made him doubt ever having left London, swearing off drink and devoting himself anew to duty. The desire to ring for a footman and demand a bottle of brandy or wine made his palms itch, but he held back, unable to go back on his promise to himself. He’d vowed to see all his troubles through and make a better life for himself and it was a vow he would damn well keep, one way or another. He wouldn’t lose his head and falter, but remain strong and dignified as expected of a marquess. He would not be like his grandfather.
* * *
‘How could he do such a thing?’ Clara stormed back and forth across Anne’s bedroom at Stonedown Manor, going over for the hundredth time what had happened. She’d found Anne moments after leaving the hallway, Lady Frances’s announcement ringing in her ears as if she’d stood too close to a church bell during matins. Worse than that had been the glee decorating Lady Fulton’s face and the realisation that Clara was no different than she’d been six years ago, and now everyone knew it. It made fresh tears spring to her eyes. ‘How could I have been foolish enough to fall for his tricks a second time?’
‘I saw him with you. I don’t think they were tricks, Clara, not this time or the last.’
‘Then why am I here crying with you and not at Holyfield dancing with Hugh? I can’t believe this is happening again.’ She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands, the pain and humiliation cutting so deep she could barely breathe. All her hopes and dreams for this week, and her desires to prove to everyone that she’d changed, were lying in ruins at Holyfield.
‘Perhaps Lady Tillman will rescind Lord Delamare and Lady Frances’s invitation and the two of them will leave and take this awful situation away with them,’ Anne offered with more hope than Clara possessed.
‘Lady Tillman isn’t likely to send anyone off in this weather. You saw how much harder the snow was coming down on our way home. By tomorrow morning the roads will be difficult to pass.’ Clara wished the snow had come a few days sooner and stopped Lady Frances from arriving at all. However, all it would have done was postpone the inevitable, perhaps after Clara and Hugh had given more to each other than a kiss beneath the mistletoe. ‘The snow means I won’t be able to leave either.’
How she would escape from this house party with what remained of her dignity she didn’t know. Half the countryside had probably heard the tale by now thanks to Lord Westbook and Lady Fulton, who’d sprinted away after Lady Frances’s announcement as if to inform the entire manor that the house was on fire. Clara walked to the mantel and stared at her reflection in the gilded mirror hanging over it. She still wore her ball gown and jewels, but, for all the diamonds, fine silk, and title, she was nothing more than a woman to be pitied because she had poor judgement when it came to matters of the heart. How Lord Westbook and Lady Fulton must be laughing at her now.
‘Lady Tillman will be polite enough not to draw attention to it, but it shall be up to the three of you to resolve the matter as discreetly as possible.’
‘All opportunity for discretion ended the moment Lady Frances opened her mouth.’ Clara rubbed at the tightness in the back of her neck. It was bad enough she must face Lord Westbook and risk an ‘I told you so’ from him, but to have to face the rest of the guests after tonight’s farce made her sick to her stomach. ‘Besides, there’s nothing to resolve. She has the prior claim on him and she’s welcome to it. He’s nothing to me any more and I want nothing more to do with him.’
‘Except you’re his partner and precedence demands that you sit beside him.’
‘Curse precedence, his new fiancée can sit beside him. I’ll sit with Lord Wortley.’ Clara plunked down hard on the ottoman in front of the fire, the warmth of the flames heating her back, but doing little to drive away the iciness surrounding her heart. She’d loved Hugh once and in their time together he’d rekindled it. For a moment beneath the mistletoe all the possibilities for a bright future that he’d promised her in the last two days had almost come true. Except it wasn’t true, but a nasty, awful lie, and this time she couldn’t even mourn her loss in private, but must do it in front of everyone here. Curse Hugh and curse her for being so gullible. ‘I wish we could go home and leave them to each other. I wish I’d stayed at Winsome.’
The pain of her loneliness was easier to bear than this.
Anne came and knelt before her and took Clara’s hands in hers. ‘I’m so sorry, Clara, for everything that’s happened. This is never how I imagined or wanted it to end.’
‘It’s not your fault.’
Anne bit one lip and cringed a touch away from Clara. ‘I’m afraid it is.’
Clara sat up a straighter. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I knew he’d be here and I didn’t tell you, and then I arranged with Lord Tillman for your name and his to be drawn out of the hat at the pairing.’
Clara stared at Anne, unable to believe what she was saying. She jerked her hands out of her sister-in-law’s and jumped to her feet. ‘You did what?’
‘You know how clever Lord Tillman is with palming cards?’
‘Every child here knows that.’ He wasn’t shy with his tricks.
‘Well, I spoke with Lady Tillman about you and Hugh and how much I think the two of you would suit one another. She, being quite the romantic, spoke to Lord Tillman and he palmed your name and Hugh’s during the drawing to make sure that you would be together.’
‘I can’t believe you’d do such a thing.’
‘I didn’t think it would end like this. None of us did.’
‘None of us who? Is everyone in on the collusion?’
‘Just Adam and I, and Lord and Lady Tillman.’
‘Adam, too?’ Clara pressed her palms against her forehead, wanting to scream in frustration. This time everyone, including her own blood relation, had been plotting to throw her and Hugh together and she hadn’t been smart enough to sniff out their plans. ‘Why do you two always take his side against me?’
‘We don’t take his side, but because we’re not involved, we can see things more clearly than either of you. He cares for you, very deeply, and if Lady Frances hadn’t burst in to Holyfield tonight, he would still be there with you.’
‘Of course he would be,’ Clara sneered, crossing her arms over he
r chest as she faced Anne, unmoved by her argument in favour of Hugh. Anne might give Hugh the benefit of the doubt, but Clara wouldn’t, not any longer. She hadn’t been able to see things as they really were before, but she could tonight and it disgusted her. ‘Hugh knew I would be here, didn’t he? And he knew that I had more money now than even before and I’m free to marry again.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘Exactly what you think I’m suggesting. Everburgh is in trouble again with a potentially long and expensive court battle facing Hugh and a purse incapable of supporting it. I suppose I appeared quite attractive to him, didn’t I?’
‘You can’t believe that he would be so dishonest.’
‘After tonight I do. He said Lady Frances wouldn’t marry him because he wasn’t wealthy enough for her, but I think it was the other way around. She wasn’t rich enough for him and he needs another wealthy wife if he wants to save his estate. I wonder if I shouldn’t be thanking Lady Frances for exposing him before it was too late.’ Clara shuddered. After all the years of avoiding fortune hunters and less reputable men, to think she’d almost fallen prey to one at a time when she should have been older and wiser disheartened her. In her grief and her desire for happiness, she’d been too blinded by the prospect of finding love to see the truth and it had almost trapped her in a marriage with a man who didn’t truly care for her. After having known the joys of love it was awful to think she might have suffered for who knew how many years in a marriage devoid of anything but greed, all because she’d been too ready to believe in Hugh and all his lying words. If she could not sniff out the intention of a man like Hugh, she didn’t know how she would guard herself against the many other men who would pursue her for no other reason than her wealth if she ever decided to go to London.
She wandered to the window and watched flurries of snowflakes stick to the panes and collect in the corners. Everything she’d hoped to accomplish this Christmas was slipping away and she wondered if she would ever find joy in this season again. Even the next few days would be a trial, for the trick wouldn’t so much be facing the other guests as avoiding Hugh.