“I look forward to seeing you, Marquess.” She curtseyed. Mr. Leonard was approaching from the walkway and she didn’t want them to be caught being too familiar. Christopher’s eyes flashed with hurt at the formality, but she cast her eyes toward Mr. Leonard and then back to him, pleading with him to understand.
After she went inside, she was greeted by Lady Catherine and Sarah who demanded an explanation of the ride immediately. She struggled to come up with a plausible story about what they had discussed.
“He wanted to talk about the weather? How droll.” Lady Catherine wrinkled her nose. Claire almost laughed. In truth, they hadn’t talked about much. But she dared not share the intimacies of their conversation. “We will find you a more fascinating suitor,” she decided.
“Oh, it’s alright. I didn’t mind his company at all!” Claire insisted.
“Truly?”
“No, not at all. I found him to be quite pleasant.”
“Ah, well then, perhaps we will have to see what comes of that.” Lady Catherine grinned. Claire felt as if she was already scheming.
“He said he looks forward to seeing me at the dinner tomorrow.” Claire felt like this bit of information would be important, somehow. She wasn’t sure how it would be beneficial to future plans, if there were future plans, but it was exciting. The future with Christopher that she had dreamed and fantasized about seemed within reach. Still, the truth of her past nagged at her incessantly.
“That is very interesting,” remarked Lady Catherine. “He must have been quite taken with you last night in the garden and today on the ride. What on earth could you have possibly have said that would have captured his attention so? Surely not the weather.” Claire smiled, but didn’t think it prudent to divulge the extent of her relationship with the Marquess. “In any event, we shall have to dress you appropriately with the scrutiny of the Duchess bearing down upon us all.”
Claire swallowed. From everything she heard, she really wasn’t looking forward to the dinner and being in the presence of the Duchess. She knew it was more likely that the Duchess would simply ignore her. Her status would not attract much attention. She would need to make sure Lady Catherine did not go overboard with her look that evening.
“Something that won’t call me to attention, please, Lady Catherine.”
“Yes, but it still needs to be flattering if we are to entertain the notion that the Marquess of Briarwood is interested in courting you.”
Hearing Lady Catherine say it out loud made it seem so real. Dare she consider the idea of marriage to the Marquess?
“Very well. Perhaps the robin’s egg blue dress? The bust is high and the sleeves are cuffed modestly,” Claire offered.
“Yes, it’s perfect!” Lady Catherine replied. “It makes your eyes stand out. I thought perhaps that one would do. I considered it might be too plain. But I think it is subtle, which is the demeanor you will be aiming for tomorrow night.”
Claire never considered that clothing could be a statement of personality until she befriended Lady Catherine. It all seemed so complex; her head begin to throb with the stress.
“I think I am going to lie down before dinner tonight.” She stood and took her pardon from Lady Catherine and Sarah.
“Before you go,” Lady Catherine began. “You should know that the Baron is requesting your presence tonight at dinner. He wishes to assess your personality before attending dinner tomorrow night.” Claire nodded numbly. The added stress increased the pain of her headache.
Claire went to her room and stood in front of the double doors leading to the balcony outside of her chambers. In a snap decision, she grabbed her cloak and wrapped it tightly around herself, obscuring her face from view. She was fortunate to have a stairway leading from the side of her balcony down to the gardens. Claire hastened down the steps as quickly as she could without slipping on the slick stone.
Claire hurried down the street, taking shortcuts through alleys to avoid being spotted. She was intent on her direction, even though she knew it was risky to go to the only place she had ever referred to as home.
Chapter 6
Claire stepped through the door to Madame Kingston’s and looked around. It was business as usual, except everyone looked in her direction as she walked in the door. She supposed she looked strange garbed in such finery. She hadn’t considered putting her grey dress back on before she left to come here.
She was just about to turn and leave when she heard Madame Kingston’s voice boom out, “Claire?”
Claire lowered her hood and smiled. Her smile faltered when she clocked thunderous look on Madame Kingston’s face. It was the most intimidating thing Claire had ever seen. She opened her mouth to speak, but Madame Kingston’s hand reached under her arm, gripping her elbow, and steered her to the side of the dining room away from the crowds of people. When they were in the back hallway, Madame Kingston glared down at her.
“Claire, what are ye doin’ here? Are ye daft, girl?!”
Claire was confused. “I don’t understand. What…”
“If anyone of importance were to see ye, ye’d be cast out again! Ye know how hard it was fer ye to get out of here. Why did ye come back?” Madame Kingston demanded.
“Because I missed you.” Claire felt her throat tighten. This rejection made Claire feel even more off kilter and anxious.
“Oh Claire, I’ve missed ye too,” she softened. “I’ve thought about ye everyday since ye left us. That new girl, Mabel, is a disaster in the kitchen. She’s even worse above stairs trying to care for the patrons.” Claire couldn’t help but smile at this. “But ye can’t be coming around here anymore. It’s not that I don’t want yer company, but I want the best fer ye, as much as it means I will miss ye.”
Claire hung her head. She was afraid of this. The only family she had known in a long time was off limits to her because of their status in society. It wasn’t fair. How was it possible that good people who had to subject themselves to this kind of work were worse than the privileged upper echelons of society?
Madame Kingston continued, “I’m going to miss ye, girl. But ye must go and be the best high-bern Lady ye can be. Show ‘em that ye can be of a higher status and still a good person.” Claire looked around and then threw her arms around Madame Kingston’s neck. “Oh, girl, I’m always thinkin’ of ye. Know that.”
“Come with me,” Claire urged. “I can find you a place in the Desmond house. Maybe in the kitchen.”
Madame Kingston threw her head back and laughed. “Imagine that. Me under the thumb of a high-bern lady, doin as she bade. No. I belong here where I’m free enough te make my own decisions, no matter what business I’m in.” Claire knew it was futile to ask her even before she did, but she had to try. “Ye go on now before I get carried away with my feelings.” She guided Claire to the back door and opened it, embracing her once more before ushering her out into the rain. “Ye look the part, Lady Claire. Now believe yerself of it.”
Madame Kingston smiled at her and patted her cheek with calloused hands. Claire felt her lips tremble as Madame Kingston closed the door behind her. She leaned against the wall with her face in her hands as she let the tears fall free between her fingers. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there crying when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She jumped and looked up into the face of Christopher.
“Christopher! What are you doing here?” she gasped.
“I could ask you the same thing. I came to pay respects to Madame Kingston. I am aware I was a regular customer to her when I came, and when I left she lost that income.”
He would pay such respect to the owner of a house of ill-repute? She trusted him now more than ever. Any high-born Lord who would be so considerate of the less fortunate had to have an inherent goodness within. “That’s very generous of you.”
He smiled and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “It’s only a small stipend, but she is a good woman. It is rare to see one of her ilk to care for her workers so well.”
“That is a noble sentiment,” she replied. “I won’t keep you if you need to go inside.”
“I already did. She indicated I might find you out here.”
Claire stiffened in surprise. “She did?”
“Yes, you were the one I requested every time, after all.” Claire laughed a little. She let Christopher guide her out of the back alley, and drew the hood of her cloak back on as they walked back toward the townhouse.
When they arrived at the balcony, Claire turned to say something, but Christopher shook his head and smiled. “Go,” he told her. “Before you get caught. I will see you tomorrow night.”
She bit her lip and turned to the stairs, climbing them swiftly to make sure she didn’t trip over her skirts. When she thought to turn around and call goodnight, he was already gone.
***
Claire changed out of her soaked dress and considered where she might hang it to dry so that its sodden state wouldn’t be questioned. In the end, she decided to hang it on the peg next to her cloak near the fire. Then, she changed into an evening gown for dinner. As she descended the steps to the dining room, she stopped to admire the many sculptures and paintings on the walls. She enjoyed the Renaissance paintings in particular. They were so romantic, and spoke to the small side of her that craved that romanticism in such a harsh world.
When she reached the dining room, she was greeted by Mr. Leonard who smiled at her in a most peculiar way. “Good evening, Lady Bonnefant. I trust your afternoon was...entertaining?”
“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Leonard.” He bowed to her but Claire felt like somehow he knew what she had been up to. The question was, would he tell Baron Desmond of his suspicions? Claire entered the dining room followed by Mr. Leonard, and found an elderly man sitting in a chair at the head of the table. She waited until she was beckoned over by Lord Desmond and he properly introduced her.
“Father, this is our cousin I was telling you about, Lady Claire Bonnefant. Lady Claire, this is your uncle.”
“How do you do, my Lord?” Claire gave a deep curtsey and kept her eyes averted, waiting for the Baron to speak.
“So, another relative come with a hand out, then?” he quipped. Claire felt her cheeks burn.
“Father,” Lord Desmond warned, speaking up in her defense.
“Alright, alright,” the Baron relented. “Don’t get in a snit. I understand her extenuating circumstances would force her to make the move here. Sit down and tell me how the atmosphere fairs in Wales.”
Claire looked up into the eyes of the old man. For someone whose body was failing them, his eyes were as sharp and alert as ever.
“I feel it is much the same as England, my Lord. Except we seem to have a warmer winter, being further south than London.”
“Ah, this is true. And the fishing industry?” he asked. “My condolences on the loss of your father, by the way.”
Claire felt the twinge of guilt for lying, but she suddenly felt the ache for her own father, whom she had lost so young.
“Thank you for your sentiments, my Lord. I fear I don’t know much about the fishing industry. I suppose as we all enjoy a kipper every now and then, the fish are still swimming in the sea and the fisherman are still catching them.”
The Baron chuckled and both Lord Desmond and Lady Catherine stared in disbelief. “Clever girl. I like you. Sit, sit and eat. My son tells me the Marquess of Briarwood has taken a fancy to you.”
Claire almost choked on her spoonful of hot soup. “I’m sorry my Lord, I…”
“Well, if it’s true, he would make an excellent prospect, wouldn’t he? You’ve no dower given the loss of your parents, no inheritance. You’ve been living off the good graces of my son Lord Desmond and Lady Desmond. I’m a pragmatist, Lady Claire. I’m not saying these things to be cruel, but I would encourage this prospect. He may very well be the best you can hope for.”
“Father…” Lord Desmond began.
“I beg your pardon, Lord Desmond, but I agree with your father. I am eternally grateful for your hospitality, and it has occurred to me what might become of me now that you’ve taken me in. I didn’t think that I would remain under your roof inevitably.” Claire looked to Lady Catherine, who seemed like she was about to argue, but then simply exhaled her breath and nodded whilst taking a sip from her water glass.
“Ah, perfect,” responded the Baron. “Then there is a plan in place for the fate of your future. As for the dower, I will of course be willing to make negotiations with the Marquess on your behalf. That is of course if a proposal should be issued.”
“Of course.” Claire was proud that her voice remained steady as she nodded to the Baron. She focused her attention on her soup, and forced the spoon to her lips as she glanced at Mr. Leonard, who was looking at her imperceptibly. Claire was afraid she would crack under the scrutiny of his gaze, but she kept her composure.
The talk turned to the estates and accounts. It seemed the Baron had said what he needed to regarding her fate, and that meant that the women became obsolete at the table. That was, until the discussion turned to the dinner party tomorrow night. The Duchess’s name was brought up and Lady Catherine snorted into her goblet once more. The Baron and Lord Desmond paused, each raising an eyebrow to her.
“Although I don’t disagree that the woman is a nightmare to deal with, I do wonder what occasion caused you to take such issue with the Duchess,” the Baron’s tone was serious, as was the man himself, but his lips twitched. He had a look of affection in his eyes when he gazed upon at his daughter-in-law.
“She’s rude, opinionated, and has no consideration for the things she says regarding others.”
“You may as well be describing yourself, Lady Catherine,” Lord Desmond joked, chortling into his own goblet. Lady Catherine glared at him.
“She was the one who began the rumors and lies about me. Now the ton talks of me like I am a feral animal. Or did you not know?” Her chin jutted out and Claire stared open-mouthed between them. She knew Lady Catherine was indeed opinionated herself, but she had never witnessed it in front of Lord Desmond. The Baron stared gleefully, looking as if the Yuletide had come early.
“With all due respect,” Lord Desmond began. “You didn’t exactly do anything to dissuade them, my Lady.” The rage in Lady Catherine’s face signified that the table was about to be in for an earful.
Fortunately, the Baron picked that exact moment to declare, “Mr. Leonard, if you would assist me, I am going to excuse myself and retire for the night. I fear if I overtax my energy, I will not have enough to bear witness to tomorrow night’s inevitable splendid fiasco.” His words seemed to soften the atmosphere because in another moment, Lady Catherine blinked, shook her head, and then sighed. It seemed whatever she was about to say in response to her husband was lost along with the anger at the Baron’s well-timed humor.
“Lady Claire, would you walk with me to the hallway? Mr. Leonard will make sure I’ve a strong arm to lean on. It seems my son and the Lady Desmond have some things to work out.” Claire rose immediately and followed him out the door, despite not being done with her meal. “I feel it is the only way my son will end up with heirs of his own, when he and Lady Catherine squabble so. Best leave them to it.” Claire’s jaw dropped at his blatant declaration. As they continued to ascend the stairs, the Baron continued. “Lady Claire, you needn’t look so shocked. Is it not true that the Lady Catherine is taking you in from such an establishment as Madame Kingston’s House of Ill-Repute out of the charitable notions of her heart?”
Claire felt like she was going to pass out in the hallway as she gazed down at the Baron. He didn’t look angered, and his tone was bordering on bored. “I...I…” she stammered..
“My Lady, you must breathe. I fear Mr. Leonard is incapable of carrying us both. You should know that I am well aware of everything that goes on amongst the ton despite my debilitating health. I am aware of the real fate of your parents, as well as the situation you found yourself in when your brother got ahold o
f your inheritance. You see, Mr. Leonard has associations all over the ton. I would like to encourage you to continue your affair with the Marquess, because it has also been brought to my attention that once a month, he would frequent the establishment. So you can see why I wouldn’t be opposed to granting the Marquess a courtship with you, because as I understand it, you have this in common.”
Claire felt the blood drain further from her face. Why wasn’t he kicking her out of the house? Why wasn’t he disgracing her as he had the right to do? More importantly, it was illegal for men of standing to consort with women of ill-repute, so why wasn’t he also bringing about the downfall of the Marquess?
As if reading the thoughts on her face, he sighed. “I trust you can understand my revelations have little to do with being cruel. I am merely recounting facts.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Claire managed to whisper.
“And you understand how I could let this ruin the both of you.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“What people have failed to ever recognize about me, Lady Claire, is that occasionally I can be compassionate to circumstance,” he said. “In truth, you’ve not made a dent on the financial status of my extensive estates. I can also sympathize with your plight, having been high-born and cast from grace. My own daughter-in-law was subject to such scandal, and whether she recognizes it or not, I admire her passion for helping the less fortunate. I appreciate her capacity to have a firm opinion. Heavens above, don’t ever confide in her that I’ve told you this, but if she wishes to turn that kindness on you, I won’t stand in the way. The one thing I am curious about is why the Marquess was so interested in keeping company at Madame Kingston’s establishment.”
Claire couldn’t bring herself to answer his question. She still felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her feet, although the result was that she was still standing on solid ground and not drowning in the shame of her past.
Fated by the Marquess: Clean Regency Romance (A Rogue's Courtship Book 3) Page 4