“I see. Then, may I be the first to wish you happy, Clare?” What the hell else could he say? He had been the worst kind of fool, taking for granted that her feelings for him were as strong as his for her. Never imagining that someone like Rainsborough could sweep her off her feet. Thank God he had made no declaration of love.
Clare reached out her hands to his. “Oh, Giles, I never meant this to happen. I never dreamed it could happen,” she added tremulously. “I hope you can wish me happy wholeheartedly.”
Giles lifted her hands to his lips and gave them a gentle kiss.
“Of course, my lady.”
“And it is not as if we ever fell in love,” added Clare, as he let her hands go. “We have been the best of friends, and I hope we will always remain so.”
“I hope so, too, Clare.”
“I expected us to build a long and happy life together based on that friendship, Giles. Had I not met Justin, I think we might have done that. But Giles ...”
“Yes, Clare?”
“I now know what would have been missing. I want you, as my dearest friend, to find what I have found. Someone who is everything to you.”
Oh, but I have found her, Clare, vie de ma vie. I found her many years ago. I expected to cherish and protect her for all of my life. But I have been such a good friend, Giles thought bitterly.
“Perhaps I will, Clare," he replied with a fleeting smile. “But I must go now.” As they stood up, he felt the lump in his pocket. Well, it had been purchased as a betrothal gift, he thought, as he pulled it out.
“I would like you to have this, Clare.”
“Oh, no, Giles, I couldn’t,” she protested, embarrassed all over again that he had come with every expectation of being accepted.
“It is a small gift, Clare. Just something I saw that made me think of you.”
She took the box and opened it with trembling fingers. It was only a simple pendant, but the stone was such a deep purple and the filigree setting so exquisite that she almost handed it back. “It is too beautiful, Giles! And you meant it as a betrothal gift.”
“And so it still is,” he said lightly. “You are betrothed. Surely a gift from an old and dear friend is quite in order?”
She looked quickly up into his face. There was nothing there to disturb her. No sign of a broken heart. Just Giles, with his shock of brown hair falling over his forehead, his hazel eyes warm with affection.
“Thank you, Giles. For this. And for being so understanding about Justin.”
He was gone quickly, and Clare fingered the pendant, knowing that despite their protestations of continuing friendship, things had changed between them forever.
* * * *
There were more than a few “I told you so’s” traded at the Eliot’s supper dance after the betrothal announcement appeared in the papers. And a handful of gentlemen pocketed substantial sums, having bet that Lord Rainsborough would carry the day. Lucy Kirkman was one of the most vocal commentators. After offering her very sincere congratulations to Clare, she made sure to tell as many people as possible of her concern for Giles. “It must have been such a shock,” she intoned. “He has loved her since we were all children, you know.”
Sabrina, who had heard Lucy’s comments third-hand, was furious. It was bad enough that Giles was suffering. It would be outrageous for people to know about it. And so she merely laughed when people would come up to commiserate with her.
“Of course there had been an unspoken family arrangement. Everyone knew that. But it was based upon friendship. Giles was the first person Clare told and the first to wish her happy, you know,” she announced to all and sundry.
When she got to Lucy, she invited her to take a stroll around the edge of the ballroom and informed her, keeping the sweetest of smiles on her face, that if she heard one more bit of gossip about her brother, she would personally push Lucy’s face into the nearest punch bowl.
“Sabrina, I was not trying to spread gossip! I just felt such sympathy for Giles. But of course I will say nothing more, if you think it best.”
“Thank you, Lucy. And neither of us would wish Giles to hear of this conversation, I am sure.”
“Of course not.”
Sabrina was satisfied that Lucy would keep her mouth shut. Unfortunately, she would not be able to stop her from going after Giles. Well, let her make a fool of herself, Sabrina thought. He has never seen anyone but Clare, and he never will.
* * * *
Clare had dressed very carefully for the supper dance. It would be the first time she and Justin would appear in public officially betrothed, and she wanted him to be proud of her. She put on her newest gown, a lilac silk that was covered by a delicate gauze overslip of an even lighter lilac. Giles’s gift was on her dressing table, and she fingered it thoughtfully. He had been so sweet and so understanding.
Wearing his gift tonight seemed a pledge of her continuing friendship, she decided, and so she had her maid fasten it around her throat. It was the perfect length and the very simplicity of the setting made one focus on the deep purple depths of the stone and then the violet of Clare’s eyes.
She was very glad she had worn it when she saw the look in Giles’s eyes as he greeted her warmly and publicly congratulated her on her betrothal.
Clare had never thought of herself as competitive with other women. Indeed, she saw herself as having very little to offer in contrast to some of this year’s beauties. But she had to confess to a certain satisfaction as she saw the look of envy in several women’s eyes. She had captured the heart of the handsomest man in London, she thought, as she and Justin whirled around the room, in their first waltz of the evening, and she let herself enjoy her moment of triumph.
Several people had complimented her on her appearance, particularly mentioning her pendant. She thanked them and said to a few that it was a gift from an old friend. After their dance, when Justin had invited her out onto one of the balconies for some fresh air, she assumed he was taking the opportunity to steal a kiss or two, and after he closed the French doors behind them, she lifted her face. He only stood there, arms crossed, looking down at her.
“What is wrong, Justin,” she asked, puzzled by his reaction.
He reached out his hand and lifting the pendant with his finger, pulled it gently and then a little harder, so that Clare had to move closer to him.
“It is a lovely piece, my dear. And it certainly does match your eyes.” He was only repeating the compliments she had already received but in a tone she had never heard from him before. “Who did give you this, Clare?”
What had seemed like a simple gesture of friendship earlier in the evening now seemed rather foolish and naive. “Giles gave it to me, Justin. He is an old friend, and one who had ... certain expectations that were disappointed.” Clare had not told Justin of Giles’s proposal, only that she had personally informed him of her own. “I only wore it,” she continued, “to show my appreciation of his understanding and friendship. He really does wish me happy, Justin, as I am, my dear,” she added, putting her hand on his arm.
Justin closed his eyes for a minute, and when he opened them, Clare saw such a look of insecurity that it quite tore at her heart.
“I am sorry, Clare,” he stammered, releasing her. “It is only that I cannot quite believe that you really love me. After all, you and Whitton have had a long history between you.”
“Only of friendship, Justin,” said Clare quietly. “I see now that I was very naive and insensitive to wear the necklace this evening. I think I did so partly because I feel so guilty about my treatment of Giles. Because I feel sorry that he has not found the love that I have.” She reached her hands up and struggled with the clasp. “Here,” she said, grasping his wrist and turning his hand over. “I won’t wear it again if it disturbs you.”
Justin’s fingers closed over the pool of gold, and his thumb fingered the facets of the amethyst. “I can almost summon up some sympathy for Whitton myself, for I can’t imagine what it woul
d feel like to lose you to another man,” he said, as he slipped the necklace into his pocket.
“You do not have to imagine it, Justin, for it will never, ever happen. You have all of my heart, forever.”
They did not kiss then, or later that evening, but Clare felt closer to Justin than she ever had. It was something she would never have expected: that the most heartbreakingly handsome man in London was only another insecure human being like herself. The fact that their need was mutual, as well as their passion, convinced her that their marriage would be a long and happy one.
* * * *
Giles had had very mixed feelings about Clare’s decision to wear his pendant. His first and last reaction was a surge of simple affection. He knew Clare very well, and knew she had worn the amethyst as a message of friendship. The sweetness of her nature was one of the things he loved her for. But for much of the evening, he had to admit, he was angry and heartsick. There was the necklace, fitting as perfectly as he had envisioned it, drawing compliments about Clare’s eyes, but he was not the man beside her basking in the glow of those compliments. He was on the sidelines watching her wear what he had meant to be his own betrothal gift with Justin Rainsborough as her betrothed.
He was aware of the gossip. Who could not be? He had known about the wagers weeks ago and had ignored them. In fact, had he not been one of the objects of speculation, he would have bet on Giles Whitton himself over a flashy newcomer like Rainsborough. Which only showed what a fool he was. He responded to the veiled sympathy that was offered him by smiling and saying how pleased he was that Clare had found someone who could make her happy.
It was a long evening, however, and his mouth was stiff from all the smiling. He was very aware of the betrothed couple, and when they disappeared onto one of the balconies, he had a hard time concentrating on his conversation with his companions. When Clare and Justin emerged, Giles noticed immediately that Clare’s neck was now empty and overheard her explanation to a curious acquaintance: “No, no, the pendant was not lost, although it may well have been. The clasp is defective, and luckily I discovered this before I did lose it.”
The clasp defective, my eye and Betty Martin, thought Giles. Justin Rainsborough did not want his wife-to-be wearing anything that was a gift from a former suitor, even if that suitor was an old family friend. Well, I am not sure I blame him, Giles admitted to himself. It was sweet of you, Clare, but naive to think that you could carry some symbol of loyalty to our friendship into this marriage. Rainsborough expects all your loyalty to be with him, as well it should be. And he has begun as he means to go on.
Giles slipped away early, eager to get away from the gossip and the looks of pity and the sight of Clare and Rainsborough waltzing together as though they were one person already and not still two.
* * * *
The next morning as Giles was finishing the morning paper in the library, his butler knocked at the door.
“Come in,” he called.
“I beg pardon, my lord, but a footman from the Rainsborough household just delivered this.” The butler held out a small brown paper parcel.
Giles reached out and closed his hand over it, a puzzled frown on his face. “Thank you, Henley.” Whatever would Rainsborough be sending him? he wondered, as Henley closed the door behind him. And then, as he turned the parcel over, he knew. He opened the paper, and out slipped the amethyst necklace he had given Clare. It lay there on his desk, the jeweled pendant resting on a pool of gold chain, but all he could see was the way it had nestled in the soft hollow of Clare’s throat. He threaded his fingers through it and spread them apart, letting the pendant dangle and catch the sunlight.
“God damn his small soul to hell,” he whispered fiercely.
It was a fragile piece, which is what had drawn him to it in the first place, and the filigree broke easily as his fury took him over. The stone fell out and onto the floor and Giles ground it under his heel, wishing he could reduce it to powder and with it all the passionate longing which he had tried so hard to subdue. But it remained whole.
How could she love Rainsborough, someone capable of such a gesture? How could she have turned her back on our friendship? Giles didn’t know what was worse, his desire for Clare, which could never be satisfied, or his sudden anger at her. She had betrayed her own affection and awakening passion for him. For desire had been between them, he was sure of it. He had just been so bloody careful with her. Instead, he should have swept her off her feet, the way Rainsborough had.
He picked the small jewel off the floor. It was scratched from the heel of his boot, but its purple depths still reminded him of Clare’s eyes. He scooped up the chain and walked out of the library and downstairs to the main hall. He thrust the broken chain and pendant at the footman stationed there, saying, “Here, get rid of this. I never want to see it again,” and walked straight out the door, leaving the servant gaping at the gold in his hand, wondering whether taking such a valuable piece to a pawnshop might constitute a technical obedience to his master’s order.
Chapter Five
Clare sent a note to Sabrina the morning after the supper dance, asking her to call that afternoon. She did not have the courage to visit the Whittons yet and chance encountering Giles. But she knew she and Sabrina must talk, or she risked losing a treasured friendship.
When Sabrina arrived, Clare joined her in the drawing room and asked the butler to send in some lemonade and biscuits.
“Please sit down, Sabrina.”
“I can’t stay for very long, Clare, so don’t bother with refreshments,” her friend answered rather coolly.
“I am glad of them myself, Sabrina. You may do what you wish.”
Sabrina sat opposite Clare and without preamble said: “How could you do this to Giles, Clare? And after all you have been to one another these many years.”
Clare colored, but answered with a calmness that amazed her. But she was so sure of her heart, that it seemed easy to speak from it at last.
“Giles and I have been dear friends, Sabrina, just as you and I have been.”
“The friendships can hardly be compared, Clare! You know Giles has always loved you.”
“As I him. I think the two of us know our relationship at least as well as you do, Sabrina. Giles has never spoken or acted in any way other than a dear friend might. Of course, we both knew what our families expected. And I expected, for that matter. I told Giles that had I never met Justin, I am sure we would have settled down very happily together. But I did meet Justin, Sabrina.”
You really did make a muddle of things, Giles, thought Sabrina. “But you hardly know him, Clare. Surely to choose infatuation over a long-lasting friendship is foolish ...”
“It is love that is between us, not infatuation, Sabrina. I have never had anyone love me like this. Justin loves me, Clare Dysart, for myself. He may appear quite alarmingly handsome and sure of himself, but I know him. He not only loves me, he needs me. No one has ever needed me before,” said Clare, her voice shaking.
“Oh, Clare, I am sorry for going at you,” said Sabrina, getting up and sitting beside her friend on the sofa. “It is just that ...” She was going to say: I hate to see Giles heartbroken. But it wouldn’t be fair to expose her brother’s pain or make Clare feel worse than she already did. So she just continued: “... That I am very disappointed. I so wanted you for a sister.”
“Thank you for trying to understand, Sabrina. I have always felt that we were like sisters already. I hope my marriage won’t change that?”
Sabrina gave Clare a fierce hug. “Of course not, my dear.”
Just then, the butler knocked and entered with his tray. Sabrina went back to her chair, while he placed her lemonade on the table between them. His entrance gave both young women the opportunity to collect themselves. When he left, Sabrina lifted her glass and said: “Here is to your happiness, Clare. You deserve to be loved.”
“Thank you, Sabrina.” Clare was blushing as she accepted the toast.
“Now, when are you planning the wedding?”
“Very soon,” admitted Clare. “We are hoping to marry in late June or early July so that we will have most of the summer in Devon.” Clare hesitated. “I was hoping ...”
“Yes?”
“I was hoping that you would stand up with me, Sabrina.”
“I would be honored, Clare.”
They chatted then about wedding gowns, and what flowers would be available, and by the time Sabrina left, she was almost resigned to Clare’s choice. It had surprised her to hear the depth of Clare’s need to be loved and needed. And yet it shouldn’t have. After all, she knew what Clare’s childhood had been like: not desperately unhappy, of course, but lacking in those essential ingredients. The way Clare had described Rainsborough made Sabrina begin to understand what had drawn her to him and away from Giles. Clare had always needed Giles. From the beginning he had acted as her protector and champion.
But how would Clare ever have known how much Giles loved and needed her? The pattern in their relationship had been set early on, and both had become used to it. Clearly, they all, particularly Giles, had taken too much about Clare for granted. She could only hope that Giles would someday find someone else. And before Lucy Kirkman got her claws into him!
* * * *
At a cost known only to himself, Giles was successful in presenting himself as an old friend and not a heartbroken suitor, and the gossip died down after a short time. But the effort was occasionally almost too much for him, especially the evenings like tonight when Rainsborough and Clare, having danced every waltz together, disappeared onto a balcony for what seemed like hours. He was very glad, therefore, to hear the Honorable Andrew More announced as a late arrival.
“Andrew!” he exclaimed when his old friend approached him. “Why have we not had the pleasure of seeing you earlier this Season?”
Sweet Awakening Page 5