by Sandra Owens
“I said farewell to Teresa…let her go be with her Harry.”
Claire stopped breathing. “Did you?”
“It was time.”
He looked back out the window. She glanced at Lady Anne to see a tear roll down her cheek. No, not asleep. Claire leaned forward and placed a hand on his knee.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.” He covered her hand with his. “Thank you, Claire,” he said softly.
“I didn’t do anything. This was your choice to make.”
“I know. You told me that and more. After you left, I thought about all the things you said. Though it was my choice to make, your words helped me put everything into perspective.”
If he hadn’t been in the carriage with them, she felt certain she and Lady Anne would have a good cry together. Seemingly uncomfortable with the seriousness of their conversation, he went back to pointing out silly things she didn’t want to miss seeing; trees, cows and fences were high on his list.
To her disappointment, they entered London after the sun had set. As Chase had wanted to drive straight through to town, he had only allowed them thirty minutes for luncheon and a few more minutes to stretch their legs. Lady Anne had pulled Claire aside to give her a fierce embrace.
“You have given me my son back, Claire, and for that, I will always love you.”
Claire tried to tell her it had been Chase’s decision to let go of his wife, but Lady Anne refused to hear it.
She squeezed Claire’s hand. “Now let us get busy getting the two of you married. Although I already have two daughters, there is always room for one more.” She had walked away leaving Claire with tears running down her cheeks.
As the carriage rolled over the cobblestoned streets of London, Claire had the urge to press her nose to the glass to better see all the finely dressed lords and ladies walking up the steps of the mansions as they attended various balls. Soon she would be one of them. The thought both thrilled and scared her senseless.
****
Chase accepted the glass of wine Madame Jacqueline offered. His mother was with Claire in a back room where Claire was being measured by an assistant.
Regrettably, Lady Anne didn’t invite him to join them. She had set herself and Claire up in rooms as far away from him as possible. First thing this morning, Lady Anne had marched into his study and warned him that there would be no improprieties between him and Claire now that they were in Town.
“Whatever the two of you got up to while in Kent is one thing,” she said. “But now that Claire is in London, there will be no hint of a scandal attached to her name. Do you understand me, Kensington?”
His tiny mother barely stood higher than his massive desk. Sometimes when she scolded him, he felt like a girl of twelve years was laying down the law to him.
Rising to his feet, he’d glared down at her. “I am no longer in short pants, Mama. In case you haven’t noticed, I reached my majority a good number of years ago and can now make my own decisions.”
She was in no way intimidated by him, not that he had expected her to be. “As long as your decisions include keeping your hands off her until you put a ring on her finger, we don’t have a problem.”
After his mother left, Chase made a decision. If, at the end of two weeks from today, Claire kept her word and said no to every man he paraded before her, he would claim her for his own. He chose two weeks because that was the most time he could manage to keep his hands off her.
Maybe.
“Lady Derebourne, she is in town to find a husband, oui?”
“Did she say that?”
Madam Jacqueline studied him a moment, then a wide smile broke out on her face. “Such a fierce scowl, my lord. So it is that way, is it? No, it was your little mere who said this.”
He had a few things he would like to say to his little mere. “Lady Derebourne will need everything, Madam Jacqueline, including several riding habits, chemises, corset, et cetera, et cetera. She likes the way silk feels on her skin, so use silk whenever possible.”
Madam’s eyes were positively gleaming with amusement. At least someone was amused, because he certainly wasn’t and he blamed that on his little mere’s No Touching Rule.
“We will choose styles and colors when she joins us. I want everything yesterday, so hire however many seamstresses necessary to make it happen. I want a few ball gowns, day dresses and at least one riding habit delivered in two days. The rest to be delivered by the end of the week. Under no circumstances is anything to be black or lavender.”
“One ball gown, two day dresses and one riding habit in two days, my lord, with a delivery each day following of what we have finished,” she countered.
“Done.” He finished his wine and handed her the glass.
Claire entered the room ahead of Lady Anne and he smiled at her. “Are you ready for the fun part of this excursion?”
“And that would be what, my lord?”
He narrowed his eyes and almost told her to stop lording him. His mother gave him her most stern look—not that it was easy to do considering her wee size, but she managed it, so he let his comment pass.
“That would be choosing the styles and colors for your gowns, my lady.” There, he had shown his displeasure without offending anyone.
“Oh no, my lord,” she said, coming right back at him. “I have no idea what styles or colors to choose.”
Chase grinned in pleasure. He loved how he never felt like he was walking on broken glass around her. “Then you are fortunate I’m here, because I do.” He stepped back. “Come here and I’ll go through these fashion plates with you.”
She stood next to him as he went through the plates. “This one,” he said pointing to a fabulous ball gown featuring a low cut, scooped neck, fitted waist and flowing skirt.
“It’s too—”
He cut her off. “No, it isn’t. There, this one. Not that one. This one.” And on it went until he came to the last page. “Definitely this one,” he said of the gown, which he could only describe as elegantly simple.
It had no adornments, a high neck, long sleeves, and clung to the body. The surprise was the deep V of the back of the gown that would require a specially made corset. She would be stunning in it. He almost changed his mind at the thought of other men seeing her wearing it.
Without thinking, he rested his hand on her lower back and began to caress her. “Ouch,” he said and glared at his mother. “Why did you pinch me?”
She raised a brow in answer. Well, he hadn’t managed to keep his hands off Claire for one day. How was he going to manage two weeks?
“Excellent choices, my lord,” Madam said. “Now for the colors. Only a deep burgundy will do for the last gown. With Lady Derebourne’s pale hair, the color will look magnificent on her.”
Yes, it would, and he was a fool. He should be dressing her in potato sacks, but she would probably be appealing in those, too. He and Madam chose colors for the remaining ball gowns, day dresses and riding habits. His mother didn’t offer any suggestions, thank the stars. She had the fashion sense of a turnip and, fortunately, knew it. He had been choosing her gowns for years. As for Claire, she seemed dazed by the whole business.
Leaving Madam Jacqueline’s, he took them to the milliner, the haberdashery and various other shops. The more he loaded up his two liveried footmen with the items he chose for Claire, the quieter she became. By the time the carriage finally turned for home, he was concerned. She stared at her hands, not paying any attention to the passing scenery.
“What is bothering you, Claire?”
Her shrug had the sign of defeat. “I feel so ignorant. Left on my own, lord knows what I would have chosen. Certainly not any of the gowns or bonnets or other things you picked out.”
She stared at the hands fisted in her lap. “I don’t know how to do anything except train horses. I think I will make someone a poor wife. Actually, I already have. Thomas was never very pleased with me. He must not have been or h
e would not have shut me out of his life so thoroughly.”
“Then Thomas was a fool. Tell her, Mama.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Oh, dear,” Lady Anne said.
That didn’t sound good. “Tell me what?” Claire asked.
“We have almost arrived at Kensington House,” Lady Anne said. “It would be best done there.”
What could they possibly know about Thomas? Why was Chase looking at her with sympathy in his eyes? Whatever it was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it.
When they entered the house, Lady Anne ordered tea and biscuits. “Why don’t we take a few minutes to refresh ourselves,” she said, and headed for the stairs.
Before she could start for her own room, Chase grabbed her hand. “Go away, Stillwell,” he said to his butler.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Claire,” Chase murmured and snaked his hand behind her neck and slowly lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss so soft and gentle that she wanted to weep. Whatever they had to tell her about Thomas no longer mattered. The only thing important to her now was this man and winning his trust.
Do your worst, Thomas, you can no longer hurt me.
She sighed and swayed toward Chase, but he lifted his head and took his lips away. A half smile and dimple appeared on his face making her heart flutter.
“Go now,” he said. “I will be waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Fifteen minutes later, she entered the room to find Chase, Lady Anne and tea waiting for her. She gratefully accepted the cup from Lady Anne. It had been an exhausting day of shopping, and now she was going to hear some kind of revelation concerning Thomas. Taking a sip of the hot, sweet tea, she braced herself.
Chase left his place by the mantel and sat next to her. He tipped the glass of brandy he held over her cup and poured a measured amount into her tea. Just how bad was their news that she needed to be fortified with spirits?
She took several sips of the brandy-laced tea, then set the cup down and folded her hands in her lap. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “I’m ready.”
Lady Anne cleared her throat. “I’m not certain this is a good idea, Kensington.”
“She needs to know, and I think it will help her to understand she isn’t the reason for Derebourne’s remoteness.”
“All right, then. There is no easy way to say this. Claire, dear, your husband was in love with someone else.”
Speechless, she stared at Lady Anne. She felt a nudge and accepted the glass of brandy from Chase. Swallowing too much, she coughed.
“Easy, love.” He took the glass from her.
Love. The word grounded her. He grounded her. She reached for his hand and he twined his fingers through hers.
“How do you know this?”
“Quite by accident, actually. Sunday morning while you were at church, I was sitting in Kensington’s study while he went through his desk to decide what he needed to bring to town with him.”
Chase took over the story. “I found a book of poems buried under some ledgers in the bottom drawer and handed it to Mama.”
“When I opened the cover,” Lady Anne continued, “I was surprised to find the pages of the book had been removed to make room for a collection of letters. They were love letters to Derebourne. I probably shouldn’t have read them, but he is no longer with us and I will admit to being curious.
“He was six and twenty when she wrote the first one. She mentions his age in the letter and that he mustn’t tell his father about her. Several years later, she writes to tell him that though she loves him deeply, she will not marry him. Her reason for refusing him was the scandal it would bring on his name if he married his mistress.
“He must have tried to get her to marry him throughout their time together as there are several letters where she refuses him for the same reason. The last one was dated almost five years ago. In that one, she tells him she is dying and urges him to marry and have children, that he needed an heir. It appears she died shortly before he met you.”
“So many years,” Claire said in wonder. It explained so much about Thomas.
“Are you upset, my dear?” Lady Anne asked.
Claire thought about it. “No, I don’t think I am. Mostly, I feel sad for them. It seems as if he loved her enough not to care about a scandal and she loved him enough to protect him from one.”
Chase pressed her hand. “Do you understand now that you were never to blame for the state of your marriage?”
She nodded. “It changes everything I thought I knew. I always had terrible feelings that I was a failure as a wife. I’m sad for Thomas, but I’m definitely pleased to know it wasn’t anything I did wrong. Did you bring the letters with you?” she asked Lady Anne.
“No, dear, we put them back in the book and returned it to the desk. We thought you should decide what to do with them. Did you want to read them?”
“No, it’s enough to hear their story from you. I think I would like to bury the letters beside his grave, and that it would be best if no one outside the three of us knows about them.”
“That is an excellent idea,” Lady Anne said. “Well, the two of you wore me out today. I think I’ll go take a little nap before dinner.” She stood and gave her son a stern look. “Leave the door open, and remember my warning, Kensington.”
“What warning is that?” Claire asked after Lady Anne left.
“Just Lady Anne finally deciding to play the role of chaperone and protect you from my wicked self. Are you all right?”
“I am.” She shifted to face him, though she couldn’t put much space between them as he still had hold of her hand. “You knew, didn’t you, that it would help me to know this about Thomas?”
He placed her hand, palm down, on his thigh, then reached up and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “I thought so, yes.”
It felt naughty having her palm resting on his muscular thigh, only inches from the part of him that so fascinated her. Would he notice if she slid her fingers a little closer?
“Claire.”
His eyes shimmered with heat, and one side of his lips curved. “Your chaperone has ordered me not to touch you, but she neglected to apply the rule to you.”
His dimple stole her good sense. “How remiss of her.”
“Wonderfully remiss. So you may touch me, if you wish.” His gaze focused on the location of her hand. “Anywhere you wish.”
Her fingers needed no further invitation, and she walked them to the place she ached to caress. He pulsed and grew under her touch as she stroked over the length of him. When he hissed, it encouraged her to continue. He lifted his hand and trailed a finger over the swell of her breast above her gown.
She tsked. “Remember the No Touching Rule.”
“Hang the rules,” he growled and slipped a finger down the valley of her breasts.
His erection jerked under her hand and she tried to encircle him with her fingers, but his breeches prevented it. He shifted and spread his legs giving her better access.
Claire forgot everything—forgot the rules, the open door, forgot all but him. He leaned into her and took her bottom lip between his teeth. She was on fire and only he could stop the burning low in her belly.
Suddenly, he was gone. He put her hand back on her lap. She made a sound of displeasure, her body swaying toward him until voices penetrated the haze.
The twins! She scooted to the opposite end of the sofa and tried to gain control of her breathing. Chase picked up a pillow and placed it over his lap. His chest heaved as if he had run a mile.
The boys tumbled into the room, Bensey taking a seat on the sofa between them, and Harry taking a direct line to the teacart holding a plate of cakes.
“Grandmamma sent us to visit you and Lady Claire,” Harry said between bites of cake. He settled in the closest chair and balanced the plate on his lap.
“Your grandmamma is an evil woman,” Chase muttered.
A giggle escaped, and Claire bit down on her lip.
“What does she owe you?” Harry asked.
“None of your concern, young man. Are you going to share those with your brother?”
Harry looked mournfully at the plate on his lap. “Do you want some, Bensey?”
“No, you can have them. I already had some.”
Harry frowned at this news. “When did you have cakes?”
“Cook gave me some when I went to the kitchen to give her the picture I drew for her.”
“It isn’t fair that he can draw and I can’t,” Harry whined.
“You have never expressed an interest in art. The only reason you are doing so now is because it might get you cakes,” Chase said.
Harry shrugged and stuffed another piece into his mouth. “Can we ride in the park in the morning?”
“I knew you would want to and was planning on it.”
Claire perked up at this. “Oh, I wish I had brought my riding habit. I would so like to go with you.”
Chase inclined his head and studied at her. “You are about my oldest sister’s size. Ask Lady Anne if Patricia left a riding habit behind.”
Claire jumped up, too excited to wait until later to ask. “If Lady Anne is sleeping, may I look for myself? Which room is Patricia’s? Oh, I do hope she left one here. Do you think she would mind if I borrow it?”
Chase chuckled. “Yes. The pink room at the end of the hall on my floor. And, no.”
She stilled while she matched his answers to her questions, then broke out in a wide smile and—without thinking—bent and gave him a kiss before racing out of the room.
Chase returned the intent looks from his sons. Harry’s hand, holding a piece of cake, was frozen halfway to his mouth. Bensey, on the other hand, smiled serenely. Harry’s mouth opened then closed. He placed the cake back on the plate.
“Is there something you want to say, Harry?”
Harry’s head bobbed up and down. “Are you going to marry Lady Claire?”
Well, straight to the point his son was. “Would it upset you if I did?”
Harry’s head went from bobbing up and down to a vigorous negative shaking. “We would like her to be our mother above all things.”