As You Are

by Eden, Sarah M.

  “He seems very confident,” she said weakly.

  “Jason knows what he’s about,” Layton reassured her, standing nearby as well. “If he says the charges will be dropped, they will be.”

  Clara’s gaze locked with Corbin’s. He could easily read in her eyes the question she didn’t speak out loud. She wanted to believe Jason was correct, desperately wanted to, but had known too much disappointment to let herself feel relief. He gave her a firm nod.

  Suddenly, Clara’s face went unearthly pale.

  “Clara?” he whispered urgently, crossing immediately to her. She leaned against him, still staring at the letter.

  “I won’t have to stand trial? I’m not facing transportation or . . . or anything?” Her words were oddly halted, as though her brain and mouth weren’t fully communicating with one another.

  “No,” Corbin replied. “All of those worries are behind you.”

  She took an audible breath. Her arms dropped to her sides, her strength obviously spent. Corbin kept an arm around her, wishing he could do more. Clara pressed her open hand against his chest, resting ever more of her weight against him.

  “She needs to rest, Corbin,” Mater said. “You’d best take her to her room.”

  “Mater.” Corbin felt his face burn with embarrassment. Accompanying a lady to her bedchamber was not within the realm of acceptable behavior for a bachelor.

  Mater just chuckled. “I had planned to go with you, son.”

  Corbin exchanged a brief glance with Clara, asking silently her opinion on Mater’s instructions.

  “I am more than a little worn down,” Clara said. “I probably should rest.”

  He walked slowly down the corridor, simply enjoying her closeness and the rare moment of being the one to help rather than the one watching uselessly. He felt Clara shift beside him and, without warning, press a brief kiss to his jaw. Heat stole up his neck and over his face. She was too close not to notice.

  “Thank you, Corbin,” she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I couldn’t have endured this without you.”

  “It has been my absolute pleasure,” he answered.

  They reached Clara’s bedchamber. True to her word, Mater accompanied them inside, though she kept a distance.

  “Try to rest,” Corbin said. “You no longer need to be concerned about Mr. Bentford.”

  But she didn’t look the least relieved. Worry clouded her eyes.

  “What is it, Clara?”

  She gave a small shake of her head. “He won’t stop simply because he can no longer use the law to get what he wants. He said it himself just today. He’ll find me. No matter where I go, he’ll find me.”

  She spoke as though she meant to “go” somewhere very soon. “Are you leaving?” he asked, his heart dropping at the words.

  “So long as I stay here, he’ll not give anyone a moment’s peace. Not me, not the children. Not even you.” A resigned determination crossed her features. “But you promised to look after my children. You promised to take care of them.”

  “Clara.” He did not at all like the direction this conversation was taking.

  “Mr. Bentford has no interest in Edmund or Alice, except as a means of punishing me. He’ll leave them be if I am not with them. He’ll spend his time and energy looking for me. They could have a safe and happy life.”

  “Clara.” He took both her arms in his hands, locking his gaze with hers. “You are . . . Are you honestly thinking of . . . of leaving the children?” Not only the children, but she was talking about leaving him too.

  “I don’t know what else to do.” Tension pulled at her features and pinched her words. “Mr. Bentford knows I’m here. And being on your land didn’t keep him away. He was here today; you saw him.”

  “He was forced to leave,” Corbin reminded her.

  “Because you were with me. What if you aren’t the next time? What if he snatches one of the children to force my hand?”

  Corbin’s heart pounded ever harder. He understood the source of her fear. He couldn’t think of any arguments that would nullify her worries. If Mr. Bentford needed the money from her jointure so badly, he likely would be willing to snatch her away, with or without the blessing of the law. What risk was there to him in doing it? He was her closest male relative. Few people would side against him in family matters.

  “I cannot stay here and put the lives of the people I care about in danger. Neither can I ask the children to live their lives as nomads, always looking over their shoulders, afraid of their own shadows.” Her shoulders squared. Her expression cleared. “Until I can be certain Mr. Bentford will leave me be, I have to do what is best for my children.”

  “Is there nothing I can say to make . . . to convince you to stay?”

  “I can’t.”

  There were no words after that, nothing Corbin could force his mouth to formulate. She didn’t feel safe with him. She didn’t feel that she could stay. She trusted him enough to care for her children but couldn’t bring herself to believe in him more than that.

  He gave her a quick, awkward good-bye and quitted the room.

  “That poor young lady,” Mater said once the door was shut behind them. “She has obviously had a difficult life.”

  Corbin nodded. Difficult seemed too tame a word. An abusive husband, a father who seemed much the same, a brother-in-law who beat her, imposed upon her, and was now attempting to have her punished for protecting herself from him, whose underhanded methods were forcing her to leave behind her own children. If only Corbin knew how to set her at ease, how to save her from the cruel hand fate had dealt her.

  Mater linked her arm with his, and they began walking. “I have watched you, Corbin, since coming for this visit. You are in love with her.”

  There was no point denying it. Mater had always been able to read him like a book—she had that ability with all of the brothers, in fact.

  “And?” Mater prodded.

  “She . . .” Thinks I’m an idiot. Doesn’t know I exist. No. He didn’t think she thought of him that way any longer. “She doesn’t feel the same way.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I . . . I tried. I tried being fashionable and making an impression that way. And I . . . I tried to seem more assertive. That didn’t work. The family even . . . even forced me onto her pew. But she—” He shook his head in frustration. “She is grateful to me, but I can’t seem to . . . Nothing I do—” He wasn’t sure how to finish the thought. Clara didn’t love him or trust him enough to stay with him.

  “Oh, Corbin.” Mater stopped him in the middle of the corridor, squeezing his arm. “Being something you are not isn’t the way to win a woman’s affections.”

  “Being me doesn’t seem to be the way either.”

  “If Clara Bentford does not love you, Corbin Lucas Jonquil, precisely as you are, then she is not the lady for you, my dear.” Mater gently patted his cheek.

  But I want her to be. I want her to love me. He remained silent.

  “So stop listening to your brothers.”

  “How did—?”

  She lightly laughed and explained. “No one but Philip would suggest you needed to be flamboyantly fashionable. And Jason, I would guess, suggested being assertive. Harold would tell you to quote holy writ day in and day out, which would get tedious. Layton would have, at one time, told you there was no point trying. Charlie would most likely shrug and ask if you wanted to go for a ride. And Stanley, well, I’m not sure he would have any advice. All he managed to do once he met a young lady who captured his attention was play backgammon with her. I love your brothers dearly, but they aren’t very bright.”

  Corbin actually smiled despite the weight on his heart.

  “Sorrel fell in love with Philip only after he stopped acting the part of a mindless dandy. Marion fell for Layton only after he let down his defensive wall. It was only after they stopped trying to be something they weren’t that they won their fair maidens.”


  “What if—” He took a steadying breath. “What if Clara never—” He shook his head. What if she truly leaves me?

  Mater smiled her understanding. “Let us deal with that if it happens. And let us hope that it doesn’t.”

  Corbin managed a half smile. Mater was generally optimistic, but he found himself hard-pressed to match her. Clara was running scared, and he was losing her. Nothing he could think of would change the reasons for her flight. Mr. Bentford would likely continue to harass her if he knew where she was. She was going to leave, and Corbin’s heart would never recover.

  I won’t let that happen, he silently vowed. No matter how many people I have to talk to, no matter how many favors I have to call in. Somehow, someway, I won’t allow this to happen to her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Clara, with the help of Suzie and Fanny, spent a few days packing her things at Ivy Cottage while the children were busy at Havenworth. She hadn’t yet decided how to break the news of her departure to Alice or Edmund. How could she possibly make them understand why she had to leave? Would they grow to hate her for it? She hoped not. She hoped someday they would look back and realize the necessity of it.

  Perhaps she could visit Edmund at Eton if she was very careful about it. Years down the road when Alice made her debut, Clara could take a house in London for the Season and watch from a distance.

  Pain radiated through her every time she thought of leaving them. She would miss so much of their lives. But what else could she do? She couldn’t put them in danger. So long as Mr. Bentford was looking for her, she would never be entirely safe. If the children were with her, they would be in danger as well.

  Leaving them would be the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she needed to find the strength to do it.

  Corbin arrived at the cottage at precisely the time he’d promised, just as he had the last two days. The cottage was nearly empty, all of Clara’s belongings in crates and barrels. She kept the children’s things separate so they could be taken to Havenworth when the time was right.

  Corbin had sent the letter she wrote to her man of business in London a couple of days earlier, along with a letter he himself was sending to Town. She expected to hear back within the week. Mr. Clark knew of several houses to let in various small hamlets throughout the countryside. He could find her something hidden away.

  Fanny and Suzie climbed into the carriage waiting in front of Ivy Cottage. Corbin followed Clara inside, sitting beside her just as he had each day he’d brought her back to Havenworth. She had been grateful that he didn’t make her walk. Every day Mr. Bentford could be seen on horseback following their carriage up the path leading away from Ivy Cottage. It was the same reason Corbin sent a groomsmen or stable hand to the cottage while she was there.

  Though they hadn’t discussed the threat of Mr. Bentford’s continued presence, the reality of it hung in the air between Corbin and her. She knew he didn’t like that she was leaving. She didn’t particularly like it herself. But there was nothing else to be done.

  The carriage rolled along the path toward Havenworth. As always, Clara caught sight of Mr. Bentford watching her go by. She refused to allow her worry to show but kept her posture upright and confident. He rode alongside the carriage, keeping pace with them.

  Mr. Bentford was always somewhere nearby during the day. The Havenworth stable hands had reported that he returned to the inn in Grompton each evening and didn’t come back until after breakfast. When she did finally make good her escape, she would have to do so in the dark of night or the earliest hours of morning.

  Corbin’s fingers wrapped around hers, holding her hand in a silent show of support. How she would miss him when they were apart. He was an anchor, a sure foundation she needed desperately. If only she had the power to see Mr. Bentford out of her life for good. But even Corbin, the son of an earl, with his lofty connections and associates, couldn’t manage that.

  She clung to his hand, grateful for the support she felt from him. In moments like these, she appreciated ever more his quiet strength. Without words, he showed her he cared, he cherished her, he wanted her to be happy and safe. If only she could be certain that was even possible.

  Corbin raised her hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. He had only recently begun doing that. Clara loved it. Adored it. The understated nature of that gesture fit him so perfectly. He didn’t need to be flashy or showy. He was simply perfect the way he was.

  He pulled her arm through his. Clara leaned her head on his shoulder, letting her eyes wander again to the window and Mr. Bentford framed there.

  “I wish there was a way to be rid of him. If only he would leave me alone . . .” She let the thought linger unfinished. Corbin knew what she was thinking—she knew he did.

  “Somehow or another, we will manage it, Clara,” Corbin said. “We’ll find a way.”

  “You haven’t given up on me, then?”

  “Never,” he whispered, his breath rustling the hair near her ear. He was the only man she’d ever known who could come that close to her and cause her not an ounce of worry.

  The carriage rolled through the gate at Havenworth. Two very large stable hands stood there waiting, a daily occurrence of late. Mr. Bentford knew better than to press his luck. He rode off down the road, leaving Clara at peace for the moment. She squeezed Corbin’s fingers, silently communicating her gratitude. It was not a permanent solution to her troubles with her brother-in-law, but it was a momentary respite.

  The carriage pulled up under the portico at the front of the house. Suzie and Fanny stepped out and made their way around to the servants’ entrance. Corbin handed Clara out. Once he had exited the carriage, he took her arm immediately, walking at her side as naturally as if they were a lady and gentleman out for a leisurely stroll. She couldn’t help but smile at remembering how ill at ease they’d once been with each other.

  “It is good to see you smile again,” Corbin said.

  “I suppose I haven’t had much reason to of late.”

  “Do not give up hope too soon,” Corbin said. “I haven’t . . . I don’t intend to let him win by default.”

  “And we have a few days at least before I have to go.” She tried to sound encouraging. “My man of business won’t be able to respond to my letter for a while. We can be together until then.”

  He didn’t answer. He simply continued walking with her past the entry hall and toward the sitting room. His family hadn’t left Havenworth yet. Clara had grown quite fond of Mater and Corbin’s brothers. She would miss them as well when she left.

  If only I could know Mr. Bentford would leave us in peace.

  Alice and Edmund were in the sitting room, along with Caroline, listening to Lady Marion read a picture book. Edmund smiled at them but quickly returned to the story. Alice, however, climbed down from Lady Marion’s lap and hurried across the room.

  Corbin lifted her up in his free arm, all the while guiding Clara to an empty sofa. She sat there and smiled when he sat directly beside her. Alice settled onto his lap, twisting his cravat about and looking happier than Clara ever remembered her being.

  “I am afraid you will never have another neatly tied cravat with Alice here.” Clara rested her head on Corbin’s shoulder.

  “My valet will likely quit trying.” Corbin’s tone was light and teasing.

  Without warning, tears gathered in Clara’s eyes. She knew their source. For days she’d been mourning the loss of this man and the joy she felt simply being near him, as well as enduring the heart-wrenching knowledge that she was losing her children. Life was, at times, horribly unfair.

  Alice’s eyes met hers, and worry settled in their depths. She could not burden her children with the worries hovering on the horizon. She managed a smile, but Alice didn’t seem to believe it. She slid from Corbin’s lap to Clara’s and wrapped her tiny arms around Clara. Clara returned the gesture. Corbin held them both in his comforting embrace.

  “You must think I am a
terrible coward,” she said to him. “All I ever seem to do is run away.”

  “Nonsense. I have never known your equal for bravery, Clara. I doubt I ever will.”

  She sat in his arms, holding her baby, missing already the fleeting taste she’d had of family and companionship and safety. It would be taken from her all too soon.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Clara had missed the entire Sunday sermon. Mr. Bentford had sat in a pew that had afforded an unimpeded view of where Clara had been sitting. Alice had seen him within minutes of his arrival and had instantly begun screaming.

  Clara’s only consolation as she’d taken Alice outside so as not to interrupt the service was that the child’s repeated declaration of “Bad Man” while pointing at Mr. Bentford and shrieking as though she were being tortured had turned the entire congregation’s disapproving notice on Clara’s despised brother-in-law. She’d actually walked out more slowly than she might have otherwise.

  But she was certain, as she stood outside the chapel doors rocking Alice in her arms, he would find a way to pass off the entire thing without it reflecting badly on himself. Shaking off the blame for his many wrongdoings was one of Mr. Bentford’s talents.

  Alice had calmed over the twenty minutes they’d spent in the churchyard, though she still occasionally muttered “bad.” Clara’s mind remained on Mr. Bentford. His continued residence in the neighborhood only confirmed her worries. He might not have carried his point with the law, but that wouldn’t stop him from making her life miserable all on his own. As soon as she heard from her man of business, she would have to leave. There was no other way of saving Alice and Edmund from him.

  She kept turning to an unfamiliar and exquisitely grand traveling carriage stopped very near the gates of the churchyard. It had pulled to a stop precisely there about ten minutes after Clara left the chapel, and though no one had exited, the carriage remained. She couldn’t seem to keep herself from looking at it, for it was far finer than any carriage she’d ever seen and bore what appeared to be an ancient coat of arms emblazoned on the door and two heraldic flags shuffling in the breeze on either side of the liveried driver.