by Wendy Vella
Claire’s smile wobbled slightly, and then she drew back her shoulders and made for the stairs. Gripping the banister, she walked up slowly, the carpet muffling the sounds of her footfalls. The Belmont townhouse was decorated tastefully, if a little fussily, thanks to her mother. If there was an available space, then Lady Belmont tended to place something into it. The staff grumbled incessantly about the dusting, and many things had been broken over the years, however her mother rarely noticed, or if she did, she simply went out and purchased something new. Nodding to the portrait of her father, Claire turned left at the top. She had not known the late Lord Belmont well, as he’d died when she was a child, yet her mother said the portrait depicted him perfectly, and if that was the case, she was sure he had been just a touch wicked. His smile held a knowing gleam that always made her own lips tilt.
She could hear the sound of someone tapping a spoon against his or her cup as she reached the door to the morning room, where she knew her family would be. Pushing aside thoughts of Anthony and the note, she walked through with a forced smile on her face. She’d noted that if her smile was wide enough, no one noticed if she was troubled. Most people were busy worrying about their own problems. Claire entered quietly to the sounds of her mother gossiping about the flirtatious behaviour of Miss Tattingham last night.
“Atrocious. I hardly knew where to look when she lifted her skirts to show Lord Milton her ankles.”
“I’m sure it was an accident, mother. Miss Tattingham has been nothing but polite in my company.”
“Of course she is polite to you, Mathew–she wants to marry you. Or anyone with a fortune,” Lady Belmont added.
“So the only reason I’m worthy of her attention is because I’m eligible, mother? I can’t tell you how happy that thought makes me.”
Lady Belmont sniffed, which was meant to mean something, however Claire was not sure what.
“Claire, where have you been?” Her brother noted her then and rose as she moved into the room. Tall and lean, Lord Mathew Belmont was the image of their late father, with his thick straight brown hair and green eyes. However he did not have the twinkle, nor was he even the tiniest bit wicked. In fact, he was serious-minded and humorless. Older than Claire by six years, he had been the one to censure her when required and had been more father than brother to her for as long as she could remember.
“I went to visit with a friend,” Claire said calmly.
“Alone?” He lifted one eyebrow to glare down at her. She always found that action irritating, even more so when she was tired. In fact, everything compounded when she was tired. People tended to annoy her more, noises seemed louder, and small things like a hole in the end of her gloves could make her angry or weepy.
“I took a maid,” she lied and then smiled sweetly.
“No you didn’t.”
“How do you know I didn’t?” Claire felt the smile slip and struggled to hold it in place.
“I asked.”
“For pity’s sake, Mathew, I’m twenty years old–practically a spinster. I do not need a maid to visit a friend. Nor do I need you checking on my movements with the household staff.”
His brows now met in the middle. “I will check on your movements until you are married. And what friend did you visit at such an early hour?”
“My favorite one,” Claire snapped, stepping around him, thus, to her mind, ending the conversation. “Mother, I’m a bit weary today, so I thought to have a nap before this evening. Will you please excuse me from any activities you may have planned?”
Where Mathew looked like their father, Claire and Anthony had taken after their mother. Her strawberry blonde curls had now turned grey, and her hazel eyes were shadowed with the grief she still carried from losing her husband and youngest son. Yet Lady Eliza Belmont was as lively as she had always been.
“Of course, darling. You must look your best this evening. I have great hopes for you this season, especially as we now have a wonderful crop of noblemen in town.”
“I have just been likened to a field of wheat,” Her brother said.
Claire felt the silly urge to giggle at his disgusted expression, so she pressed a hand to her mouth to keep herself from talking further. She was tired enough that it would not take much to set her off, and she had no intentions of falling into a fit of hysteria in front of Mathew.
“Well, she has already turned down three proposals, so let us hope for someone to fill her exacting standards this season.”
“Would you have me wed to a man I did not respect, Mathew?”
“No, Claire, that was never my wish for you.” Mathew said solemnly.
“I’m sure I will find the perfect man soon and you shall be rid of me,” Claire added and then forced out a laugh so her family knew she was merely making light of the matter, when in fact the topic was a painful one for her. She had nearly reached the door before Mathew’s voice stopped her.
“Are you well, Claire?
“Of course I’m well, Mathew. Why would you think otherwise?” Claire kept her tone light as she reached out to grab the door handle to steady herself. He saw too much and she did not want him to know about the note, so she kept her eyes on the panel of wood before her.
“It is not like you to take to your bed in the middle of the day, sister.”
“I have a slight headache, Mathew, nothing further. A short nap will put me to rights.”
Before he could say anything further, she left the parlor, closing the door softly behind her.
Her room overlooked the gardens, but as the curtains were drawn when she entered, she saw only the muted shadows of furniture. Shutting the door behind her, Claire felt the pain in her head start to ease. It had begun to throb after her encounter with Lord Kelkirk. Lord, how was she to face him tonight? Not now, Claire. Right now, she needed to rest, as she would need all her wits about her when next they met. Her maid arrived and she was soon down to her chemise. Picking up the glass holding the tisane that Plimley had prepared, off the bedside table, she swallowed the vile liquid with a shudder and then slid between the sheets.
What had Anthony left behind in France? Would she receive another note soon? How was she to avoid Lord Kelkirk? Staring into the darkness, Claire let the thoughts tumble around inside her head until finally she felt the bliss of sleep settle over her. With another tired sigh, she turned on her side and was soon slumbering.
…
When the Belmonts arrived at the Harrison ball, the rooms were already filled with guests. Smothering a yawn, Claire tried to shake the fog from her head. The sleeping tisane had given her sleep but also horrid, heated dreams in which she was clad in only her undergarments and Lord Kelkirk stood there laughing at her. She was feeling listless and dull-witted, which was never a good sign when she was stepping into the bosom of some of the ton’s more voracious gossips.
“Come along, Claire. You’re wool-gathering.” Mathew held out his arm to his sister and she gladly took it, feeling better, now she was anchored to something solid.
The season was well advanced, and of course Lady Harrison had invited everyone and everyone had accepted, as there had been whispers that the king himself would arrive. Claire knew this was a ploy quite a few of the hostesses used to ensure their gatherings were successful.
“Quite a crush,” Lady Belmont said, smiling. Claire’s mother, unlike Claire, loved a crush.
“God help us all.”
“I thought you enjoyed these things, Mathew.” Claire looked up at her brother as he spoke. He was handsome in his black jacket and grey and burgundy striped waistcoat.
“Being jostled, spilling beverages on myself as people pass, dancing with silly, empty-headed debutants. Of course I love it, sister.”
Claire looked forward as they walked deeper into the room and then back at her brother. “If that is indeed the case, Mathew, then you hide it very well.” Obviously, she was not the only Belmont sibling with acting talent.
“Would you have me walk about scow
ling, Claire?”
“Do you want to scowl?”
He looked down at her briefly. “Constantly.”
“I’m sorry. I thought I was the only one who was not overly enamored with these events, brother.”
They stopped behind several other people, and once again Mathew looked down at her, his eyes searching her face. “Perhaps if you had asked, I would have told you.”
Claire didn’t know what to say to that because she’d never really shared confidences or secrets with Mathew. It had been Anthony she was close to, not her older brother.
“Excuse me, children. I see a friend I would like to talk with. I shall see you both later in the evening.”
The Belmont siblings watched their mother move with ease through the crowd and disappear.
“One wonders how she saw her friend when I can only just see over the
heads closest to me,” Mathew said.
“She has been to more of these events than both of us put together, Mathew, but she never seems to tire of them. Do you think it is something lacking in her or us that we cannot find the same enjoyment?’
Mathew didn’t answer her immediately, as he navigated them around a large, chatting group of guests, but Claire could see he was thinking carefully about what to say next.
“I would never suggest mother’s intelligence is beneath ours, Claire. However
I will say she finds joy in her surroundings far more easily than you or I.”
“Acceptance, Mathew. She is far more accepting than us, surely?”
He let out a little snuffle that was his way of showing humor. Mathew rarely laughed out loud. Indeed, perhaps he was more like her than Claire had realized. He rarely expressed emotions. “We should probably host a ball one day. Mother is constantly harping on about it.”
God, just the thought made her shudder. All those preparations and invitations. The planning would take weeks. “Must we?”
“But how are we to secure you a husband if your hostessing prowess is not displayed to the eligible bachelors, sister?”
Claire looked up at her brother with narrowed eyes. He looked calmly back.
“You had better be teasing me, brother. For in truth, were you not, I may be forced to seek retribution.” She was surprised to realize they were actually having a conversation that she was enjoying. Usually Mathew was lecturing her, and she was snapping back at him. They had not laughed in each other’s company for a long time, especially since their brother’s death.
He snuffled again and continued walking. “What will it be, Claire? Frogs or insects in my bed?”
This time she laughed, remembering their childhood antics “Frogs, I think.”
“You are about to be claimed for your first dance, sister, and for the record, I would never accept Lord Smythe’s suite, were he to offer for you.”
Claire eyed the tall man heading her way. “Why?”
“My horse could outthink him.”
“Mathew!” Claire gasped, giggling behind her hand.
“Good evening, Lord Belmont, Miss Belmont.”
“How does Arthur fare today, Smythe? I heard he was not in good form.”
Who was Arthur? Claire thought, looking from her brother to Lord Smythe.
“Much better, Belmont. He ate a full meal before I left for the ball, and I have hopes of letting him outside again in the morning.”
“Who is Arthur?” Claire questioned.
Mathew turned to face her, his eyes twinkling—a rare sight. “Lord Smythe’s piglet. He takes it everywhere with him. It even lives in the house.”
“In my room,” Lord Smythe said, nodding his head several times.
“Well then,” Claire said because she could think of nothing further to add to this silly conversation.
“Perhaps you will take your brother’s word more seriously in future,” Mathew said in her ear. Then he kissed her cheek.
“May I have this dance, Miss Belmont?”
“Thank you, Lord Smythe, I would be honored.” Claire gave her brother a bright, very false smile and then let Lord Smythe lead her onto the dance floor.
CHAPTER TWO
Claire tried to focus on her partners as she danced the next set, yet she kept surveying the crowd, searching for Simon. She was determined to avoid him for as long as possible.
“Can I get you some refreshment, Miss Belmont?”
“No thank you, Lord Cavell, I shall be fine.”
After he had excused himself, Claire stood on her toes and looked around the room. She couldn’t see the black and silver hair of Lord Kelkirk, however that did not mean he was not here. She would keep moving, circling the room, and then if she saw him, she could nip behind the nearest statue.
“Hello, Claire.”
“Eva, how wonderful to see you–it seems such an age,” Claire declared as her friend appeared before her.
“I saw you Tuesday, Claire–surely not an age, as this is only Thursday.”
“Perhaps not an age then,” she added, looking over her friend’s shoulder.
Was that that Lord Kelkirk? He was tall and that man was tall, although from this distance, she could not determine if he had the distinctive black and silver hair.
“Who are you looking for, Claire?”
“Looking for?” Claire brought her eyes back to her friend.
The Duchess of Stratton was giving her a puzzled look, her head tilted slightly to one side while she studied Claire with her pretty, sapphire blue eyes. “You appear to be searching for someone.”
“No, just being nosey.”
“Well, it is hard not to be at occasions such as these. This is my second season, and I am still constantly surprised by the clothing and antics of the guests. Have you seen Lord and Lady Pepper?” Eva added behind her hand as she moved closer to Claire.
“Oh lord, what are they wearing tonight?”
Eva made a great show of looking about her. “Matching lemon, and whilst you may not think lemon a disturbing color, this is.”
“Disturbing how?” Claire whispered back behind her own hand.
“It’s the brightest lemon and quite hurts the eye, and her dress is fashioned like his jacket, with little buttons running up the front and a panel of piping down the skirt to make it look as though she has trousers on.”
She just had to see that, Claire thought, climbing to her toes, which gained her nothing, as most of the men were taller than her, and some of the ladies. “Who do you think dresses them? I’m thinking it’s someone they’ve done something grievous to. Someone who has revenge on her mind and is slowly extracting it, outfit by outfit.”
Eva laughed, which made her look lovelier, if that was possible. The duchess was a beautiful woman, and had Claire not been her friend, she would have disliked her intensely. She had thick, raven locks and the kind of figure that made men sigh. She looked stunning in whatever she chose to wear, which tonight was an emerald green creation that made her look like a goddess.
“How is it possible you look like that after the birth of your child only a few months ago? I saw how big your stomach was, after all. Tis most unfair, and may I add, were I not your friend, I would be quite put out that if anything, you appear lovelier.”
Waving the compliment aside, Eva continued with their conversation. That was another thing about her that Claire liked–she was totally unaware of her beauty. “It would not be quite so bad if Lady Pepper was not so…”
“Fleshy, elephantine, paunchy? Come, Eva, I’m sure you can come up with a descriptive word.”
Eva pinched her friend’s arm.
“Ouch! I was only stating the truth. We all know Lady Pepper has eaten one éclair too many.” Claire climbed to her toes once more and surveyed the room again. Eva thought she was seeking the Peppers, however she was looking for Lord Kelkirk.
“I’m sure you’re looking for someone and not telling me who.”
Eva may appear sweet and innocent, Claire reflected, but she was intelligent and tenaciou
s when required. “I’m searching for the Peppers, as you very well know, Duchess. Now tell me, how is my darling Georgia?”
The puzzled look left her friend’s eyes to be replaced by a look of love. Her lips tilted into the smile a woman got when she fell in love or had a child, signaling a kind of longing Claire had never experienced–a total and utter devotion to another person. “Oh, Claire, she is so sweet. Why, just yesterday, she rolled over twice. We shall not be staying long this evening, as both Daniel and I are loath to leave her over long.”
Happy to let her friend talk about the baby while she kept an eye on the people around them, Claire listened with one ear.
“I am bringing her to visit with you and your mother tomorrow. I saw Lady Belmont briefly a few minutes ago, and she told me I was to come.”
“That’s Mother for you. She demands and everyone falls in with her wishes. However in this case they coincide with mine nicely. I found the sweetest little doll–”
“Claire, you gave her a gift last week. You shouldn’t spoil her so much. Simon is the same. He’s always popping in with something tucked under his arm.”
“Is he?” Even the mention of his name made Claire’s heart thump. Could she avoid him for the remainder of the season?
“He carries her around in his arms the entire time he’s visiting. Daniel says it’s the most emotion he’s ever seen him show a woman besides his aunt.”
“Aunt?” Claire couldn’t remember meeting his aunt.
“His aunt and uncle live at his estate, I believe, and he is very close to them.”
“Good evening, Claire.”
“Good evening, Daniel.” Claire smiled as the Duke of Stratton approached. He instantly slipped an arm around his wife’s waist. Their marriage had had a tumultuous beginning, yet it had grown into something that was the envy of many, and the birth of their daughter had only strengthened those bonds.
“We were just discussing Simon’s devotion to our daughter, darling.”
“Yes. It’s an amazing thing, really, considering he usually has no time for anyone but himself.”
Claire and Anthony had grown up with Daniel, and for many years they had been close, until the death of her brother when, distraught, she had turned her back on everyone. It had taken Eva stepping into both their lives to bridge the gap between them. “As he’s your dearest friend, your grace, one wonders how you speak of your enemies,” she said, enjoying teasing the man who had once walked over the hills of her home for hours, whilst they endeavoured to find a tree tall enough to climb so they could see London.