That stung, but he refused to let her know how much. “Why do you say that? I know a number of people who’ve suspected the two of us would marry.”
Her stunned eyes delivered him another blow. She truly must hate him.
“I don’t see why anyone would think that. From an early age, most people could tell we never got along.”
“There is that faulty memory again,” he accused, recalling how inaccurately she had described their childhood when they had been lost in the woods. “We could very easily settle this dispute right now. My mother watched us grow up. Ask her.”
Claire’s eyes darted to his mother, then back to him. “It doesn’t matter. My father wants me to make a love match. You’d never be able to convince him that you feel that way for me.”
Softening his expression, he looked into her beloved face. She had no idea what love looked like. If she had any clue, she’d be in his arms right now, his mother be damned. His gaze fell to her lips.
“Claire, you have no idea what I’m capable of.” He lowered his voice, not wanting his mother to hear.
She shivered then quickly looked away. “That may be, but I think I’d do better asking someone with whom I could have a future.”
“You better not mean Higgins. That man isn’t fit to play even a fake betrothed,” Ian growled, not liking the idea of Higgins ruining Claire with marriage to him. Or worse, not.
“If not the earl, then who do you suggest? And, don’t you dare say you. We already had that conversation.”
Pressing his lips closed, he stared at her. She would get no suggestions from him. He refused to consider her with any other man. But, what if she truly wouldn’t change her mind? He couldn’t stand to think of her with someone else, but would he rather her grow old and alone? The question he really needed to answer was, did he love her enough to let her go?
“So what did you find out about him?” Camellia demanded the second Claire walked into the drawing room. “Anything helpful?”
Claire let out a sigh as she pulled off her gloves and pelisse, handing them to the butler. “Good morning to you, Camellia. Yes, my journey was quite pleasant and uneventful. How has your day been?”
“We’re close enough friends that we don’t need to waste time on pleasantries. Now spill it. What type of woman is Lord Knightly looking for?”
Dropping into a chair, Claire stared at her friend. “I failed in my job. I couldn’t ask Lady Knightly or she would have assumed I was asking for myself. And, Gordon, well, he may think the same thing.”
“Hmm. That’s not helpful. Regardless, I found a perfect match for him.” Camellia practically bounced in her chair.
“Who would that be?”
“Me. When he asked me to dance the other night, I felt so right in his arms. I don’t think I’ve ever danced with a more skilled partner.”
Panic welled up in Claire’s breast. Camellia couldn’t honestly be interested in Ian. Claire didn’t even want to entertain the thought. If Ian were to marry, he had to choose someone she didn’t know. Someone who was so perfect, Claire couldn’t even compare to her. Not a person Claire would want to see again.
As she examined her friend with a critical eye, depression settled upon her. Camellia had black hair to her brown, almond eyes that were far more interesting than hers and naturally olive skin that shone compared to Claire’s bright white. Her friend also boasted lips that were pouty without even trying.
Claire tried to push out her lips, but felt silly. Basically, Camellia was a woman any man would die to marry. As it happened, Camellia’s father already had turned down three different gentlemen who had asked for her hand. She sighed. There was no comparison.
“I take it you don’t agree,” Camellia added at her silence.
“No. I’m just shocked. Did you decide this because of the one dance? Do you know anything else about him?”
“What else do I need to know? He’s a viscount. Handsome. Wealthy. Light on his feet. And, looking for a wife.”
Claire shook her head. Clearly Camellia viewed marriage similarly to her sister. How had her own parents managed to find one another in this loveless world? An emotional lump settled in her stomach at the notion she would never feel the amount of love and devotion from her husband as her mother had known.
“Don’t you want to marry for love?”
“Of course I do, silly. Doesn’t everyone? I think I could easily love Lord Knightly. He doesn’t make it difficult.”
“What of his regard?” Claire bit her lip not wanting to hear that Camellia already fancied him in love with her.
“That will come with time. My father and mother weren’t too fond of one another when they wed, and they’ve dealt well together all this time.”
“I suppose.” Claire didn’t like the sound of that. After all, loving one another and dealing well together were completely different things.
“Enough about that. I need you to tell me everything you know about Lord Knightly. Then I can capture his attention and you will be free of him.”
Claire smiled, a tolerant widening of her lips over clenched teeth. “What is there to tell? His likes and dislikes are similar to any other gentleman of his age.”
As her friend asked question after question, Claire responded to the best of her ability without revealing too much. With each answer, she felt as though Ian were slipping further and further away. Soon to be lost, forever.
And it was all her fault.
Chapter 10
“Now that I’ve determined Miss Ashford’s preferences, it’s time for me to learn yours.” Ian’s mother looked at him expectantly.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Mother.” Ian hoped she didn’t expect him to give her a list as if she were a matchmaker.
Her sigh was long-suffering. “My protégé didn’t appear impressed with our little dinner party. After the brilliant showing by you and the staff, I expected her determination to be swift.”
“You make it sound as though I had something to do with your plan, but I did not. Are you speaking of your idea to set Miss Ashford up with me?”
To her credit, a blush crept up her neck all the way to the roots of her hair. “Only a passing thought. Now, while I search for a husband for her, I thought I could keep an eye out for a bride for you.”
“Wait. Have you given up on Miss Ashford as a candidate for me?” He gripped the arms of his chair as panic slid over his face.
“Sadly, yes. Now we need to—”
“Why? You seemed so determined the other night.”
His mother sat back and studied him, a glint forming in her eyes. “So, you do hold a preference for her. I thought as much.”
“Then why give up?”
With a laugh, she shrugged. “I haven’t. I simply needed to see if you were willing to go through some trouble for the girl. After all, I think that’s what it’ll take.”
Leaning back in his chair, he couldn’t believe how easily he’d fallen into his mother’s trap. However, he couldn’t count it as a bad thing. Having the lady in question’s chaperone on your side could only be a benefit. She would also save Claire from choosing the wrong man.
“I may be willing to try a thing or two. What do you suggest?”
She sat up straighter in her chair. “First, she seems interested in Lord Higgins, so we need to break her of that. You need to compare yourself to him and show her exactly where he falls short and you succeed.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. The earl has many shortcomings.”
“Good. The next thing is for you to make a point to dance with her at every ball and talk to her at every event. Give her suggestions, be witty, be her friend.”
As he rubbed a hand over his chin, he thought about the one dance he and Claire had shared. It had been a mag
ical night. He could still feel her sensual body in his arms. Could smell the scent of her skin. His breathing grew more ragged. Although he didn’t relish the idea of having an audience this time, holding her in his arms in any capacity was better than nothing.
“Stop.” His mother’s voice broke his thoughts. “Whatever you’re thinking. Stop it. The plan is to be her friend. Nothing more. She needs to see you as someone she can trust. Someone to confide in. Someone who is there for her. Not a rake looking for his next conquest.”
His vision tinted to a red hue and the muscles in his jaw twitched. “She is no conquest.”
“You and I both know that, but she doesn’t. Think about these past years. How many women has she seen you go through?”
“I’d like to think I’ve been more discrete than that.”
“Then how did you get your rakish reputation? If someone had been watching you, and I mean really watching you, wouldn’t they know the truth?”
Ian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was true that he hadn’t been as concerned a few years back. Although his heart had belonged to Claire, she’d been much too young for the attention he sought. Not that he was proud of his behavior, but he hadn’t been the only youth to find pleasure in multiple women.
“I see your point.”
“Good. Keep in mind that I will be watching. I refuse to fail in my chaperone duties. Even for you.”
Ian took his mother’s words to heart. After she bid him a good day, he put serious thought into how he would become invaluable to Claire. Even though he didn’t see the fault in presenting himself as a desirable lover and friend, he understood what his mother intended. Times like this made him glad his mother had grown tired of the country.
Later that night as Ian sat down at the club to wait for Gordon, he heard Higgins call his name. Inwardly, he groaned. The man was drunk and no doubt spoiling for a fight. Ian would be glad to put him in his place, again. This time, though, the man had two of his friends flanking him. Ian was no match for three men.
“Are you deaf, Knightly? I asked you a question,” Higgins yelled across the room.
Not wanting to make a scene, Ian remained seated, staring in the opposite direction. As he expected, Higgins stomped over to his table. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused.
“Higgins,” Ian began. “To what do I owe the displeasure of your company?”
“I hear you’ve been snooping around Miss Ashford again. That one is mine. Back away.”
“I believe in allowing the lady to decide who she wants in her company. I will leave her alone when I hear those words come out of her mouth.”
“When I get my hands on her, I’m going to have much better uses for her mouth.”
The blood-red fire from his youth invaded Ian’s vision. No longer caring about the uneven fight, his fist snapped forward landing a solid hit to Higgins’s nose. Grinning at the satisfying crunch, he braced himself as the two men on either side of Higgins moved forward.
Higgins sprang from the floor and growled to his cohorts. “No! He’s mine,” then spun on his heel, hitting Ian solidly in the chest.
Ian’s nostrils flared as rage pumped through his body. The pain of sustaining fists to his own face and chest didn’t register as he got in a few more blows, intent on teaching the bastard a lesson. He wasn’t quite done before someone pulled him back.
“Ian,” Gordon called. “Calm down. We need to leave.”
Grinding his teeth, Ian glared at his enemy. He didn’t want to leave. Higgins needed to be taught a lesson. However, when Gordon squeezed his shoulder, he decided to let it go. For today.
As the two moved along the street, Ian concentrated on breathing in and out as he relaxed each of his fingers, one at a time. Once the majority of his anger faded, he became aware of the burning above his left eye. Reaching up, he winced.
“Just a little blood,” Gordon confirmed. “The eye, however, is already beginning to bruise.”
“It was worth it,” Ian practically growled and his calm façade began to crack. “When I see him again, I’ll probably do it a second time.”
“Hold up there. Do you want to be kicked out of another club? As Viscount Knightly you have higher standards to live up to.”
Ian let out a sigh. “I know, but somebody needs to teach that bastard some manners.”
“Let someone else do it. With that eye, you shouldn’t present yourself in polite company for a fortnight. And, that includes Claire.”
“Impossible. I’m not going to hide myself while that disgrace for a gentleman pursues her.”
His friend shook his head. “She’s going to have a fit when she sees you.”
“I can take her scolding and if she wants to lavish attention on me, well, I’ll take that happily.”
“What did Higgins do to start this?”
Ian refused to tell his friend the truth. If he did, there would be no one left to stop Ian from returning to the club to pounce on Higgins again. This time with help.
“The usual,” Ian replied. “Now, let’s go to my house. The brandy is free and the company is much more pleasant.”
“Is your shadow planning on being by your side every second of the day?” Lord Higgins shot an irritated glance over his shoulder.
Claire tugged on his arm until he faced forward again. “She means well. At least she agreed to travel a distance behind us to allow us some privacy.”
“As if there is any privacy in Hyde Park in the afternoon.”
Heat washed over her cheeks. “That isn’t what I meant, my lord. My intention was to point out our conversation wouldn’t be overheard.”
“Yes. Of course. So, what did you wish to speak to me about? I’m not accustomed to these little walks, but your urgency when we spoke last night intrigued me.”
Peering up at him, Claire sought the strength to ask. Noticing some sort of powder spread around his eyes and nose, she looked away. The thought that Lord Higgins had a need to powder his face confused her. If they were on more companionable terms, she could ask him. Surely the small accident he’d suffered from the door slamming in his face wouldn’t account for anything other than his swollen nose.
“As you know, my father has been ill,” she began.
“Has he passed? I hadn’t heard that. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“You misunderstand. Lord Dailey is still with us.”
“Very good. And, yes, I know he’s been ill. I imagine there are very few who aren’t aware of that fact. Are you ill as well?” A horrified look crossed his face as he attempted to remove his arm from hers.
Irritated, she held him tighter. If he would let her finish, he would know. “I am well.”
He settled back down. “That’s a relief. So what were you saying about your father?”
Letting out an irritated breath, she began again. “In his current state, I believe the best thing for him is to entertain visitors.”
“Why is that?”
“It makes him more aware of his surroundings and allows him to be involved with society. That awards him with the fight he needs to pull through.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
She sincerely hoped she was making the right decision.
“I’m trying to ask if you’d be willing to speak with my father. If only for a few minutes. It would mean so much to him, and to me.”
“Miss Ashford, I truly am sorry, but I don’t make it a habit of speaking with the infirm. I can have my steward pen him a letter, but I’m afraid that’s the best I can offer.”
Shock took her voice. After a few seconds, she was able to regain her composure. “Thank you, my lord, but at present he has no use for letters. They are not lively enough to encourage his mind to remain active. I assure you, my father’s illness isn’t catchi
ng. Over the course of my life, he has spent many hours in a sickbed.”
“That is fortunate for you. Otherwise, you would no doubt be in a similar situation to him. London has too many joys to waste one’s time confined to your quarters.”
Claire gulped. That was answer enough. Knowing how readily Ian had agreed to assist as her fiancé made the earl drop a portion in her estimation. Surely the man could see how important this was to her.
“It is my sincerest wish that he improve.”
“Has he been to Bath? No doubt a drink of the healing waters will do wonders for him.”
“He isn’t fit to travel at present. We’ve had a man make the trip to bring the waters to him, but so far there has been no luck.” The mention of Bath brought up her earlier conversation with Carolyn. “Have you ever traveled to Bath?”
“Heavens, no. The only patrons to that city are seeking healing for themselves. No doubt the whole place is infected with some form of sickness. Therefore, I have no inclination to visit.”
Nothing about the entire conversation convinced Claire to choose Lord Higgins as her husband. However, there were other places besides Bath that she could live out her days. She would have no objections to Paris.
Once their walk concluded, Claire rode in silence back to her father’s townhouse with Lady Knightly. Since the earl was unwilling to speak to her father, that left only one option. She really didn’t want to be around Ian any more than necessary, but she had her father to look after.
“My lady?”
“Yes, my dear.”
“Would it be a problem to stop by Caldwell House first? I have a small matter I’d like to discuss with Lord Knightly.”
A worried expression crossed the woman’s face, but was quickly masked. “As you wish.”
When they arrived at the house, Lady Knightly ushered her into the drawing room and went herself to collect her son. Why she hadn’t sent the butler, confused Claire. Something strange was going on.
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