Alex rose to greet them, and Claire stood at the same time to observe the exchange. He met his mother with a grin and brought her gloved hand to his mouth for a quick kiss. “Good evening, madam.”
The Marchioness of Pembrooke nodded with a smile. “Alex, you look well.”
“Indeed. May I introduce Lady Claire Cavensham?”
The marchioness turned her attention to Claire. In a melodic voice she said, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” With a wave of her hand, she proclaimed, “I’m happy you could join us this evening.”
Lady Daphne jumped into the conversation. “This is marvelous. I’ll not have to suffer the same old boring crowd at intermission. Pembrooke’s friends are wonderful, but dreary. We’ll have to rely on each other for amusement.” The young woman offered Claire a sudden, winsome smile.
The marchioness studied Claire. “Are you here by yourself?”
Inwardly, she cringed at the marchioness’s question but squeaked out a lame “Yes, my lady.” This was not the way she wanted to start their relationship. The curse was enough to scare away any person, but a fast reputation was unspeakable.
Alex came to her rescue, smoothing any rough waters. “Mother, I want to share our news. Claire has consented to be my wife. She and I are to be married by special license at the end of the week.” His lips twitched into a smile worthy of a rogue. “You and Daph must retire early on Thursday. I want you at Langham Hall eight o’clock sharp this Friday.”
Daphne grabbed Claire’s hands in hers and delight lit her face. “Married! This is marvelous news.”
Claire looked at both women, and happiness rose like cream in a cup of milk. If she didn’t control her rambunctious emotions, she’d never make it through the night. “Thank you for such kind words.”
The marchioness smiled with warm affection. A few telltale tears sprang to her eyes when she turned to Alex. “Well, you have taken me by surprise. I was not expecting this announcement.” She laughed through her tears. “How wonderful! Lady Claire, welcome to the family. Congratulations to you both. I shall invite your family over for dinner to celebrate.”
Alex’s mother didn’t mention or acknowledge the curse. She didn’t question Alex about his decision at all. No matter what happened from this day forward, the marchioness had already become one of Claire’s favorite women in the entire universe. She had accepted Claire and their marriage without objection.
As the orchestra finished their warm-ups, it was time to take their seats. Alex motioned toward the front. “We’ll continue our conversation at the intermission.”
Alex seated his mother and sister in the second row. Then he brought her front and center. The cat was out of the bag if anyone wondered whom the Marquess of Pembrooke had escorted to the theater. Everyone could see her seated close to him. Rumors of Lord Paul would fall silent by morning.
When the first act ended, footmen entered the box with bottles of champagne and glasses. As soon as everyone had a glass in hand, the marchioness raised her glass. “May you have a long and happy marriage,” she said with a bright smile. “I know I’m presumptuous, but let me add, may you bring me lots and lots of grandchildren to spoil. And soon.”
At the marchioness’s kind words, Claire almost deferred to the overwhelming urge to fall on her knees and thank the merciful heavens.
Daphne joined in with a resounding “Huzzah!”
Before either Alex or Claire could answer, the box door swept open. One of the ton’s most handsome and eligible men, the Earl of Somerton, strolled into the box like a sun god. His golden hair and tanned skin magnified his stunning looks. His turquoise-colored eyes added an exotic feature to his tall and lean physique.
“Well, well. Pembrooke decided to grace us with his presence tonight. There are no words to describe the honor.” Somerton greeted the marchioness and Daphne before his gaze fell to Claire.
At his sly smile, Claire felt unease start to crowd out her earlier happiness. She didn’t know Somerton well, and if he teased about the curse, her entire night would be destroyed.
“Lady Claire, a pleasure.” He bowed over her hand and then slowly rose. His startling gaze held hers as if trying to ascertain a secret.
Claire darted a glance at Alex and relaxed. His eyes twinkled, and an affectionate smile—the same one she’d seen when he had talked about Daphne—transformed him into the most dazzling man she’d ever seen. With ardent envy, she wanted that smile for herself.
“Somerton, thank you for appreciating my good taste. You are greeting the future Marchioness of Pembrooke, so I suggest you release her hand. Otherwise, I’ll have no other recourse except a sound thrashing at Gentleman Jackson’s.”
The earl let his hand linger longer than was socially acceptable. “No, thank you.” He gently squeezed, then finally released her fingers. “The last time we raised fists, I couldn’t move for a week. Getting on a horse was pure torture.” He faced Claire. “My lady, I apologize for monopolizing your attention. I offer my congratulations to you both.” He bent his head in a mocking bow and whispered loudly, “Alas, I fear Pembrooke is getting the better part of the bargain.”
With a devil-may-care smile, Alex clasped his friend’s outstretched hand in a firm handshake. “You’re trying to goad me into the ring. Still, I thank you.”
The two men’s antics reminded her of her cousins McCalpin and William when they teased and prodded each other. Soon, others entered the box while the two men continued their conversation. Claire excused herself and made her way to Daphne and her friends and found Emma among the women. They chatted about upcoming events, and the conversation turned into a rousing discussion about which balls would host the most eligible men.
Claire listened with amusement before she returned her attention to Alex. When their eyes met, she was caught and unable to turn away. There was a spark of something indefinable in his eyes that demanded she hold his gaze.
She met his demand and raised it with a small smile.
* * *
“Lady Claire, I didn’t expect to see you today.”
Claire found the Hailey’s Hope solicitor before her. Completely immersed in her task, she hadn’t heard him approach. Wallace Perkins had been with the charity ever since her mother had started it more than twenty-five years ago. His usual good cheer was replaced by the slight line of a frown.
“Good morning, Mr. Perkins.” Claire placed the quill carefully in its stand. “I wanted to start on the solicitation letters to the potential donors for the children’s home. The duchess will write her share later on this week.”
He nodded his head. “Excellent thought.”
“If we receive another twenty thousand in donations before we hire the architects, we’ll be able to add another floor to the building.” Since arriving in the cozy office, she had allowed the work to consume her. It was her passion and her refuge.
The solicitor closed the door behind him. “I wondered if I might have a moment of your time.”
“You may have as many moments as you need.”
“I understand congratulations are in order.” His cheeks colored into a ruddy apple red.
Her happiness faded a little. He must have seen yesterday’s “Lady Calamity” article in the Midnight Cryer that informed all of London she was engaged to Lord Pembrooke. The gossip rag was the bane of her existence, always taunting her with pithy comments about her curse. “Thank you.”
“Perhaps we should discuss your wedding plans.” He cleared his throat. “What I mean is…”
“Mr. Perkins, there’s no need for embarrassment. I saw the article too.”
“Will it have an impact on the children’s home?” Mr. Perkins asked.
“I’m not certain. The curse talk is usually bandied about as a joke. If patrons actually believe—”
“Lady Claire, that’s not at all what I meant.” His gentle gaze finally met hers. “I’m talking about after your marriage.”
Claire shook her head. “Lord Pemb
rooke and I will travel to his estate for a month. He understands the charity means a great deal to me.”
“Will the marquess support your work?”
“Completely.” When she’d informed her future husband that her work was non-negotiable, it hadn’t caused him the least concern.
Mr. Perkins leaned closer. “Someone came around several days ago asking about you.”
“Oh really?” She scooted to the edge of her chair.
Mr. Perkins nodded. “He interviewed several of the men and staff, but didn’t ask to see me. It was quite odd. According to the staff, the questions asked pertained to your acquaintances, work schedule, and how you spent your time.”
Claire let out a silent breath. None of this boded well for either her or Hailey’s Hope.
“The man identified himself as a Mr. Thornley. He said he was gathering information for a thorough exposé on the real Lady Claire. I assumed he was from the Midnight Cryer.”
Who was the real Lady Claire? At Hailey’s Hope, she was someone who knew her course in life, simply a woman fortunate enough to have the opportunity to help others. Outside these walls, she was someone ridiculed. She straightened in her chair. “Was the curse discussed?”
The solicitor pushed his wire-framed spectacles higher on his face and swallowed. “Yes, my lady.”
Her mother’s presence was everywhere within Hailey’s Hope. Once Claire walked through the door, she left the curse behind. It held no power over her. Now, it threatened to taint everything important to her.
She’d rather be hunted by jackals than face another article mocking her. “I don’t want our good work or the orphanage jeopardized because some scandal sheet wants to sell papers.”
His brow folded into soft lines. “Every single man declared the curse was utter nonsense. They told Mr. Thornley all about your good work. Mr. Napier was quite vocal in your defense. He threatened to throw the man out on his ear.”
Claire clenched her fists under the desk and smiled. “That’s very kind of him, but I don’t want anything disparaging said about Hailey’s Hope or any of its residents. It’s imperative nothing impacts our fund-raising for the expansion. I’ll inform His Grace and ask for his assistance. We’ll find out exactly what Mr. Thornley is writing.”
“My lady, I was hoping you would say exactly that.”
She nodded. Nothing would harm the haven she’d created for others. Or the peaceful sanctum she found every time she stepped foot in this place.
* * *
Simms waited at the foot of the stairs. Alex descended and pulled his snow-white linen cravat away from his itching neck. His valet, Jean-Claude, was a grand master in the art of starching shirts and neckcloth until the offending pieces could stand on their own.
“My lord, this arrived by special courier.” Simms held a note with Macalester’s seal.
“Thank you.” His private investigator, Macalester, had finally sent word. Alex didn’t think anything damaging would be unearthed. Still, he needed to discover any surprises before his marriage. He wanted all information gleaned kept under wraps, since Claire and her small staff would join his household within the week.
Alex rode his horse, Ares, to Macalester’s office, letting the horse set the pace. For a split second, guilt clouded his thoughts for investigating Claire. Last night in the carriage, he had wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and push away the unhappiness on her face when she’d described her life of isolation and rejection. Besides the Cavensham family, she seemed to be a loner with no real confidantes.
He had intended last night’s actions to convince her how much he wanted her. As God was his witness, it was the truth. No matter how inconvenient it was for him. It had taken him hours to finally sleep. All he could think about was Claire in his bed, by his side. It was pure torture.
He had to find a way to keep her from encroaching any further into his thoughts. Not only was it driving him insane, but she distracted him from work. For the first time in over a year, Alice wasn’t the first thing he considered when he woke.
It was Claire.
She was a duke’s daughter and would make a perfect marchioness. However, for his sake and their future, he had to find answers. Alex wouldn’t allow anyone through his defenses. He’d learned from his mistakes not to overlook any trifling matter that involved Lord Paul.
Claire’s integrity had never appeared as fodder for gossip. If there was something in her past, he would have caught wind of it. He had never heard one word against her until that foolish curse had taken root. Like tinder, her misfortune fueled a hungry fire of gossips until she became the ton’s favorite amusement. Alex had never paid much attention until the opportunity to ruin Lord Paul had come to light. Only then did he concentrate on protecting her from that rake.
Alex wasn’t certain when she’d been introduced into society. That was not surprising since he could hardly remember Daphne’s entrance in society this Season. Claire had never held the title of a declared incomparable, a woman crowned a diamond of the first water. Gentlemen never sang her praises. She merely existed along the fringes of society.
Last night at the opera, she’d mesmerized him. Her beauty had easily surpassed that of every other woman in attendance. Her poise and charm shimmered. The fact she had remained unattached for years astounded him.
A simple redbrick building housed Macalester’s offices. With a young man acting as escort, Alex found his way upstairs to the investigator’s office. The room exuded comfort, with supple leather chairs that surrounded a heavy wooden desk. Nothing appeared on the desktop except an inkwell and a quill. He anticipated Macalester’s report would be the same, brief and to the point. With firm proof nothing sordid existed in Claire’s past, he’d attend to his other matters.
Macalester entered and greeted Alex with a slight bow and a reserved deportment.
“Tell me what you have.” Alex wanted the information as quickly as Macalester could deliver it.
“Certainly.” Macalester shook his head. “You’ll be relieved to hear nothing exists of real consequence. For the most part, the ducal staff is extremely loyal to the family. However, some were freer in conversation. All told me not to approach her lady’s maid, Aileen Findley. She is fiercely protective of Lady Claire.”
“As expected,” Alex agreed.
“Lady Claire has never been linked with anyone suspect, either man or woman. Not a sniff of a scandal. She keeps to herself except for the companionship of her family and a few close friends, even at social events.”
Alex allowed himself to accept the first tinges of relief. “Her other engagements?”
“Ah, yes, the Lady Claire Curse is in full regalia for the ton’s entertainment.” The investigator continued, “The first engagement was to the Earl of Archard, who died a month before their wedding. According to one of the duke’s staff, strong affection existed between the two.”
Alex took care not to show any reaction. It was best not to dwell on Archard for both their sakes. He’d help Claire forget the heartache.
The investigator rattled off the second name. “Her second engagement ended shortly after the proposal. As soon as the Earl of Thant asked for her hand, he suffered a tragic accident. His horse collapsed and died while he was riding. Within hours he went under the knife and the crushed leg was amputated. I could not discover who broke the betrothal.”
Macalester stopped abruptly. Apparently, he sought permission to continue. Alex nodded and waited for the end of the litany.
“That accident was the source for the curse.”
“Thant claimed she was cursed?” He’d always been rather remote—not one to spend much time in London.
The investigator shook his head. “A gossip rag published the story after the break. Proclaiming her cursed, it detailed her parents’ deaths, Archard’s, and Thant’s unfortunate accident. At the end of the article, it warned the ton’s eligible men to be wary of seeking Lady Claire’s hand even with her great wealth.”<
br />
“How long ago was the article published?” He closed his eyes. Claire’s first taste of the curse probably caught her unawares at some ball or soiree. If he’d known her then, he’d have rallied every acquaintance to dance with her to dispel the rumors.
“Archard died three years ago. Thant’s accident was two years ago.”
God, the strength it had taken to act as if none of this nonsense bothered her. The curse had dogged her for years. “I never realized how long she’s suffered through the innuendos.”
“I’m not finished, my lord. The third was a vicious case, really. Lord Berkeley caught Lord Riverton in flagrante delicto with Lady Berkeley within an hour of asking for Lady Claire’s hand. After the duel and the subsequent death of Lord Berkeley, Riverton fled to the continent.”
“Did you uncover how Lady Claire became involved with Lord Paul?” It had to be desperation to escape the rumors.
“He took an interest in her after his taste for gaming increased to the point of addiction. The Duke of Southart is a friend of the Duke of Langham, and both approved the match. Southart’s heir is a sickly sort and rumored likely not to inherit. Thus, Lord Paul would be the next in line. Both men thought such a union advantageous, a way to unite the two houses.”
In silence, Alex contemplated the information. Southart’s heir had completely disappeared from society. Still, how could Langham have allowed Claire to become involved with Lord Paul?
The investigator cleared his throat. “I do want to mention a couple of peculiar business transactions.”
“Transactions she handles through her solicitors or independently?” With her fortune, it was probably nothing more than investment dealings. He’d be interested in understanding the extent of her business acumen and how she managed her fortune.
“Both. Lady Claire has personal accounts with the boot maker Hoby and a small but fashionable men’s clothier named Grigby near her favorite modiste’s shop on Bond Street.”
Alex sat stone-faced. He didn’t expect a review of her purchasing habits to be included in the report.
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