By the time they all left Vauxhall Gardens, the news was out. Everyone in the park was talking about Lady Regina Norton and Baron Sully caught in a compromising position. Her uncle and aunt had heard.
“Isn’t she the girl from Chittingham?” her uncle asked.
Claire simply nodded her agreement.
“The foolish girl,” the duchess said. “She gave up a lifetime of respectability for a moment of fun.”
“And with such a character as Baron Sully,” the countess had tsked.
Noel and John had taken the viscount aside when they had returned Claire and Willa to him soon after. The men had carefully explained what the girls had witnessed. They stopped at that. If she wanted to tell her aunt and uncle the things she had told John and him, it would be up to her. A promise had been made and they would not breach it.
The girls were tired when they returned home. Claire felt like she had relived every moment of the event over and over, as well as the horrifying threats and the original assault. But with a feeling of lightness, for the first time in what seemed to be forever, she walked to her bedchamber and slept the night through. No nightmares, no restlessness.
She arose early the next day, rang for Molly, and dressed for a ride in the park. Willa, too, was ready for a return to normalcy it seemed. She wore her favorite habit when she came to Claire’s door, as Molly tucked the last strand of blonde hair under the riding hat.
“It is going to be a marvelous day,” Willa announced. “I have already had a note from John. We are to go riding in the park and then to Gunther’s for an ice. And tonight, Claire, Father is taking us to the opera.”
“And tomorrow,” Claire said with a broad grin, “we have the picnic at Lady Stoddard’s estate. I’ve heard she puts on the most fabulous outdoor entertainments.”
Rotten Row was more crowded than usual. Many people stopped them along the way. “Did you hear the news about Lady Norton?” “Can you believe what I heard?” “You poor things, I heard you witnessed the awful act.” The grooms patiently waited behind them, the horses stomped their feet in impatience. Claire and Willa, in an unspoken pact, said little of it to anyone, changing the subject whenever it came up. A small nod here, a gentle smile there. These things satisfied society. At last, they managed to escape and make it home.
After their morning meal, Aunt Blythe sat them down in her parlor. “Your father and uncle,” she glanced at each girl in turn, “told me this morning the two of you witnessed the horrible scene last night at Vauxhall.”
Willa and Claire both nodded silently. It had worked in the park today; they would try it at home.
It didn’t work with Aunt Blythe. “Willa? Claire? What did you see?”
Claire decided that since she had already lied so much in the recent past, one more little untruth could not make it any worse. “Not much, Aunt. Of course, their clothing was in disarray and Lady Regina was mortified. Why, she was red up to her eyebrows.”
“You saw nothing more?” she asked.
“I barely even saw anything, Mother. For His Grace was shielding us from being exposed to more and Lord Roydon was pulling us out.”
Claire’s aunt seemed satisfied. “As it should be. Young women should not have to witness indelicate situations.”
“Of course not,” Willa replied meekly with a lowered head. Claire saw her cousin’s posture hid a smile.
“Well, then,” Aunt Blythe continued, “I am satisfied. What do you plan today?”
Claire saved Willa from having to look up just yet. “Lamberton and Roydon are taking us to the park and out to Gunther’s.”
“How lovely,” Aunt Blythe enthused. “I do declare I believe we will have accomplished the impossible by the end of the season,” she went on with a bright smile. “I fully expect to be mother to the Countess of Roydon and aunt to the Duchess of Lamberton.”
“One cannot count on it,” Claire said humbly.
Aunt Blythe laughed. “We shall see,” she said.
The afternoon arrived quickly. Claire was on tenterhooks. This would be the first time she was to see the duke without any foreboding shadows hanging over her. Claire had already made up her mind to somehow apologize. She had insulted him, had hurt him, had snubbed him. Furthermore, she was ashamed of her behavior, especially since her parents raised her to be a lady. Indeed, she had allowed herself to get away from her proper manners in the aftermath of the attack.
She selected her dress carefully. Molly held up gown after gown, only to have them dismissed, until she pulled a lovely pale green jaconet from the wardrobe. It was simple and elegant, trimmed only in ribbons of almost the same hue. Three parallel rows of ribbon circled the hem. Another two rows trimmed the bodice. One thin ribbon wound below the bodice, ending in a neat bow. The bonnet she selected was the lightest straw, trimmed with a bouquet of multi-colored straw flowers, with long ribbons of white trailing down the back.
When Claire was dressed, Molly arranged her hair so wisps peeked from beneath the bonnet’s brim. Lavender water was dotted behind her ears and the pulse on her throat and each wrist. Then, as a final touch, she added a small gold locket to dangle around her neck.
She left the room and strolled down the stairs, purposefully hiding the excitement she felt within. Willa was waiting already. Claire complimented her on the pretty gown of lemon yellow gauze she wore. The two girls went into the drawing room to await the gentlemen. They did not have long to wait.
Dunley slipped around the corner and announced the men. He held the door for them while Claire and Willa stepped into the hall. Noel’s gaze was on her, and appreciation was clear upon his face. He held out his arm.
“Good afternoon, Miss Stuart,” he said most correctly. “Might I say you look delightful?”
Her heart beat faster. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
As Noel led her from the door, closely followed by Willa and John, Claire gasped. “We’re taking separate vehicles today?” For two curricles, each team of horses held still by a liveried tiger, sat in front of the house.
“Do you mind?” the duke asked.
Claire smiled up at him. “No, I find I am quite looking forward to our ride.”
Noel held her hand as Claire stepped up into the vehicle. She settled into the seat comfortably and placed her hands in her lap in a most ladylike pose as she waited for the duke join her. When he indicated, the tiger let loose of the reins and the horses began to move. The young tiger jumped on the back, and as soon as the duke saw he was in his seat, he flicked the reins.
They spoke of mundane things. Many times they did not speak at all, for the crowd in the park was such they could barely inch along. Claire enjoyed every minute. Now and then Noel’s arm brushed hers and thrills of excitement soared through her. When he laughed, she glanced up at him, admiring the lines of his face, the dark eyes, the wavy hair showing from beneath his hat. She loved this man, had loved him since always and would continue to do so.
When the crowd cleared for a few moments, Claire knew it was her time. If she was to make her apologies, she must do so now. “Noel,” she began as she laid her hand gently on his arm, “I have mentioned it before, but I so want to apologize for my behavior. Now Lady Regina’s threats are a thing of the past, I want you to know I would have never behaved in such an ill-gotten manner if it weren’t for the events which were happening. I am embarrassed when I think of how I have treated you.” She had made the speech looking at her hands, but now she glanced up and, for a moment, her breath caught. He was not smiling. He was so serious. Then, he raised her hand from his arm and lifted it to his lips. He pressed a kiss upon her fingers, lingering there a moment more than necessary and then he raised his eyes to hers. “It is forgiven and forgotten,” he said.
****
Noel looked at the young woman he hoped to make his wife. She had not needed to apologize, but it warmed his heart when she had. His hurt had been trivial compared to hers, but it made him love her more knowing she cared.
&nb
sp; The ride to Gunther’s took no time at all once they left the crowded park. He and John left the girls parked beneath the trees, and they hurried in to collect lemon ices for them all. Back outside, he leaned against his vehicle and enjoyed the treat while he looked up at the beauty in his curricle.
Standing there, he began to forget the people around, for there was a small spot of ice upon her lower lip he nearly climbed in to kiss away. When she laughed at something stupid he had said, he could feel his body awaken. He might need another ice in order to get her back to her uncle’s home.
Once the frozen treat was finished, Noel joined Claire on the seat to return her home. They spoke of the picnic the next day, which they would both attend. He told her he, too, would be at the opera tonight. A promise was made that he would visit her uncle’s box during intermission.
The outing was over far too soon. He helped Claire down and kissed her hand in farewell. Then he assisted her up the steps and to the door where he smiled broadly at the austere butler over her head.
Back at home, Noel came to a decision before dinner. He was sure he wanted Claire to be his wife. In fact, he could not have been surer that she would make a kind and gentle duchess, a woman who would fill his home with love, care for his tenants, and treat his mother with respect. The thought of giving her babes to cuddle and love excited him. She excited him.
However, Claire had been through a lot recently, and he wanted her to be sure. She had often said, “I’m just a vicar’s daughter.” Noel did not want her to believe she could not be his duchess because of this. He needed her to be sure, as sure as he was.
With his mind made up, he tracked down his mother in her own bedchamber where she sat, robed in a dressing gown, on a bench at her dressing table. Antoinette was brushing the duchess’s hair.
“Mama, do you have a few minutes?” he asked hesitantly, for he usually did not come here.
“Of course,” she told her son. “Antoinette, why don’t you run down and fetch me another bottle of lavender water? I fear I need a refill.”
The dresser bowed and left the room, and Noel walked further in.
“Have you come to tell me you have chosen a bride?” the duchess asked. “For I have expected the announcement for some time now.”
“Not yet, Mama,” he answered her. “I have chosen a bride, but I want to give her time to choose me.”
“A wise man you are,” she said.
“What I have come to ask is a huge favor. It is something you have not done in recent years, but I am hoping you will perform the task one more time for me.”
She looked up at him with interest. “What is it, Noel?
“I would like us to host a house party,” he ventured. “I want Miss Stuart to see my home and to experience the lifestyle which would be hers if she chooses to accept me. And you know I’m no good at planning parties, Mama.”
She patted his cheek with one soft, beringed hand. “Oh, it is such a lot of work, Noel.”
“I know Mama.”
“So I shall only do it under one condition.”
“And what would the condition be?” he asked suspiciously.
“If this Miss Stuart of yours should accept your hand in marriage, you must promise that beginning with your wedding night, you will work tirelessly toward producing a grandbaby for me. I am envisioning a pair, actually, a dark haired little boy and a beautiful blonde girl.”
Noel grinned from ear to ear. “I promise,” he said. He kissed his mother on the cheek, wiggled his eyebrows wickedly at her, and left the room whistling.
Chapter Seventeen
The days of summer became an idyllic fairytale for Claire and Willa. They were both happy, ecstatic even. Each night they danced with passels of handsome men. Even though society already assumed they were taken, the Amhearsts’ drawing room filled to capacity every day.
Both girls were well liked and had always been, but now and then they had displayed a bit of a queer start in the past. Society’s matrons had forgotten these and now smiled upon them for their pretty behavior and their exquisite taste in gentlemen. If they noticed that Miss Claire Stuart’s calm demeanor had begun the day Lady Norton retired from society, no comment was made of it. Although many noted that His Grace, the Duke of Lamberton wore a permanently hungry expression upon his handsome countenance causing the women of the ton to shiver with delight all the way to their toes, they did not state it aloud. When society noticed the Earl of Roydon walked around in a cloud, a silly smile upon his face, no mention was made of it.
Inside the Amhearst mansion in Berkley Square, however, things were not as calm as the ton assumed. The Viscountess of Amhearst shouted orders like Wellington himself. Viscount Amhearst slipped quietly out the back door, glad to make his escape to his club. Claire and Willa snuck to the garden, carefully looking over their shoulders to be sure she had not seen them go. And the servants… alas, the poor servants. There were many mumblings and rumblings among them.
“When did she become such a monster?” Dunley asked the housekeeper.
“I don’t know,” she grumbled, “but I don’t get paid enough for this.”
Maids ran in terror, footmen swore they would not live through the week, the cook was in a tizzy, and even the pot girl threatened to quit.
The Viscount and Viscountess of Amhearst sent out hundreds of invitations to a ball honoring Miss Willa Dutton and Miss Claire Stuart.
“Mama and Papa are coming,” Claire said, folding their most recent letter up and sliding it into a pocket. “Mrs. Quince will stay with the girls. I am sure Fayre is extremely upset she is not being allowed to attend.”
Willa laughed. “She will have her chance next year,” she said. “And what a splash she will make.”
“Indeed,” Claire remarked with a happy grin.
Their peace was shattered. “There you are,” the viscountess said in a stress-filled but excited voice. “Claire, dear, you will never guess.”
Claire rose to face her aunt. “What is it, Aunt?”
The lady wagged a thick parchment card in front of her. “Read it aloud for I am sure your cousin would like to know what it says as well.”
Claire reached for the paper and opened it up.
“His Grace The Duke of Lamberton and Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Lamberton invite you to a house party at Lamberton Castle.”
Claire got no further. Willa shrieked and jumped up with excitement. “Oh, I have heard about them. They are spoken of in awe-filled voices and excited whispers. The duchess is famous for her house parties, but she has not given one in years. This is for you. Oh, I know it is. When is it?”
Claire calmly finished reading the invitation. “In two weeks hence,” she said. Her calm demeanor, however, was a farce. A house party at Lamberton Castle! She didn’t know what to think. Indeed, she was scared to death to visit his home, yet she couldn’t wait at the same time. Well, she silently told herself, you will have to, for it is in a fortnight.
The viscountess hurried back to her chores, leaving the girls in peace once again.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Willa asked Claire excitedly.
“I’m not sure,” she said honestly.
“He wants you to see his home before he proposes.”
“Do you think so?” Claire asked. “Perhaps, instead, it is a test.”
“A test?” Willa asked. “What nonsense!”
“But it’s not,” Claire argued. “I am but a vicar’s daughter. While Mother trained me to run a household, she did not train me for a duke’s estate. I am no one special, and a duke should have an earl’s daughter at the least.”
“Nonsense,” Willa said. “What utter nonsense. The duke loves you. He wears his heart on his sleeve for the world to see. No man of my acquaintance, even John, is so transparent.”
Claire did not argue more, but inside she was nervous. She did not, however, have more time to think about it.
“Claire, Claire honey?” It was her parents
already! She shot up from the bench and flew to the house, straight into her mother’s open arms.
“Mama, it is good to see you,” she said with tears of happiness pooling in her eyes.
“Here, now, Olivia, you’re not sharing my girl,” the vicar said, gently tugging Claire away for a hug of his own.
Willa was right behind her and collected hugs from her aunt and uncle as well.
“It is so exciting,” her mother said. “Your ball is tomorrow night. Aren’t the two of you on pins and needles?”
“We are, Aunt Olivia,” Willa said, “but truthfully it’s from trying to hide from my mother. She is so wrought she has the whole house in an uproar. I know at least a half dozen servants threatened to quit.”
“Oh, dear, we can’t let it happen,” Claire’s mother returned. “Perhaps I can calm her a bit,” she said.
“Please do try,” Willa begged. “My home is no longer safe if you do not succeed,” she said dramatically.
****
The morning of the ball arrived, and Willa was beside herself. She had been relaxing in her room with the window ajar when she heard a vehicle come to a stop in front. This was unusual today as most of the vehicles were delivery wagons and were stopping at the back of the house. Willa peeked out in time to watch John alight from his curricle. What was he doing here? It was still early morning. A rap sounded at the door, and she heard Dunley’s indistinct voice, the murmur of John’s. Then the door closed.
She waited for Dunley to send someone to fetch her. Although she was dressed for the day in a worn and comfortable gown, she would descend the stairs to greet him as soon as the footman came for her. Yet, she continued to wait. The front door opened and then closed again, and peeking from behind a curtain, she saw John walk down the stairs and step back into his vehicle. She ducked back as he drove off.
It was but another few moments until Molly knocked and then opened the door. “Your father would like to see you, Miss,” she said.
Then it struck Willa. He had come and gone and now her father wanted to see her. Had John asked her father something? Her heart beat erratically and her pulse raced. She almost knocked poor Molly over as she hurried out the door and down the hall. The stairs were no deterrent to her speed. Mere seconds passed before she opened the door of her father’s study.
The Blackmailed Beauty Page 17