by Rosie Wynter
Claire felt the earl’s chest heave with relief. She could sense some of the tension leaving him, though he still insisted on holding her tightly. She did not mind that – in fact, she rather enjoyed the sensation.
“Then… then what have you come here for? Why were you so close to the water’s edge?”
Claire finally let go of Lord Dalton. She pushed against him, indicating that she wished to be free of his grip, even if just for a moment. He obliged her and her eyes fell on the clutch of papers she had brought with her. An awkward smile played across her face as she looked at them.
She shook her head. “I suppose, in spite of how far I have come, I still have a tendency toward the dramatic. You recognised at once that the papers belonged to Mr Hawkins. They are the last collection of poems and verses he gave me to read before that assembly when he proposed to me. All the rest of his works went with him, but these few I was able to keep concealed on me. I hid them under my bed covers at night and would hold them in my lonely hours.”
Claire looked at the earl’s expression, noting the look of pain on his features.
“Truly, I regret holding onto them and making a treasure of them as I did. The romantic part of me did not like the idea of letting go of Mr Hawkins’ love. For a long time, I forced myself to believe that he was the only man for me. He represented everything I felt I wanted in my life and I chose to cling to that belief, even when my own mind and heart knew he was not truly what I wanted after all. Were it not for my stubbornness in wanting a fairy-tale romance, much of the heartache I have endured these past weeks and months could have been avoided.”
“Then, why have you brought them here?” the earl asked.
“Well, I may not have come here to end my life in the literal sense,” Claire said with a slight smile. “But I suppose you could say I am here to let a part of myself die, to let go of that part of me that believed for so long in knights in shining armour and story-book happy-ever-afters. It has taken me far too long to grow up. Now that I have, I wish to break with my childish ways. Giving these poems up to the water seemed a good way of saying goodbye to the old me.”
The earl looked down at his feet. Still, his look remained serious. Claire had thought he might find the whole situation that they were caught up in amusing, as she now did. Yet, the man seemed more sombre than ever after hearing her explanation of things.
“Do you… do you not think I should rid myself of these worthless poems? I did not think you thought much of Mr Hawkins’ work….”
“I know my feelings on his work are mired in personal prejudice, but I cannot believe the world will suffer much for the absence of his literature.”
Claire smiled and took a step closer to him. She put the papers under her arm and took the earl’s hands in hers. She could tell that he was still suffering a great deal, though she could not work out what the cause of his pain was.
“Then what tortures you so? For that is what I observe.”
“Did you not hear what I said before?” The earl asked, his voice sounding almost exasperated. “I love you, Claire. I believe I started to fall in love with you the very moment I caught you in my arms at Holdenwood Manor. The days we spent conversing together, while I laboured on Cromford’s property, were amongst the happiest days of my life. I fell in love with a girl who had a most creative mind and a love of art. Though my sphere is architecture and I cannot profess to be the greatest of readers, I enjoyed every moment of your lively talk about your favourite novels and poems... After I quit Holdenwood Manor, I even found myself seeking out some of those stories and works that you recommended to me.”
“You did?” Claire was touched. At that moment, she didn’t know which of the earl’s wonderful words impressed upon her the most. That he was willing to declare his love for her moved her deeply. Whereas Mr Hawkins’ proposal had left her in some doubt, the earl’s declaration gave her heart nothing but happiness and delight. Even so, she could not smile. She shook her head, to dispel any lingering illusions and matters of little consequence. One thing remained, however, that seemed to make the earl’s declaration invalid.
“But, you cannot love me. What of Miss Lambert? I know already she has no good opinion of me, and I hardly think–”
“My sister does not dictate my feelings. Amelia is the dearest thing in the world to me, however, I know she would probably disapprove of any woman I brought to her as a potential wife. Amelia can appear somewhat severe at a first meeting, but I promise you she will warm to you in time. If she appeared at all judgemental or wary of you, it is only because she wishes to ensure my safety and happiness.”
Claire let go of the earl’s hands. She closed her eyes and noticed she felt somewhat dizzy. She rubbed her temples and then looked up at Lord Dalton again.
“Amelia… is your sister?”
The earl now looked as confused as Claire did. “Yes,” he said simply. “I even mentioned Amelia to you while we were at Holdenwood Manor.”
Claire clapped her hands over her mouth to disguise her gasp. She did indeed recall the earl mentioning a sister by the name of Amelia, but she had forgotten all about it in the malaise of her own dilemmas. Still, it did not make complete sense to her. “But her name is Lambert? Amelia Lambert?”
Lord Dalton gave a slow nod, seeming to understand something at last.
“Of course, I never had the opportunity to explain that part to you. When I come to think of it, it was on the day of Mr Hawkins’ arrival at Holdenwood Manor that I first told you about my sister. I remember now, I had barely begun to speak of her when Lady Helen’s carriage arrived.”
The earl straightened up, his eyes locking with Claire’s most seriously. “If you have in any way misunderstood my relationship with Amelia, then please let me dispel your uncertainty at once. Amelia is in truth, my stepsister, but I never refer to her as such. After the death of my mother, my father remarried a widow. At the time of their marriage, I was but five years old and Amelia only two. I have lived my entire life thinking of her as a full-blooded sister and I rarely make the distinction of our different blood. I would have made all this known to you with–”
“If Mr Hawkins’ arrival had not interrupted the conversation and then diverted my attention from where it should have been all along.” Claire gave the earl an apologetic look. “I do not know how you can profess to love me when I have, at every turn, proven myself a most difficult, selfish, and foolish woman. I suppose one of the reasons why I latched onto the idea of your being romantically involved with Amelia came from my own inner belief that you deserved someone better than me.”
“And yet, love you I do,” the earl said. For the first time in their conversation, a smile crossed his features. “While these last days have been clouded by the shadow of Hawkins, I simply cannot forget the person I fell in love with. After all that has happened, I do not wish to burden you with my feelings. I doubt you are in the mood to be courted at such a time as this.
“However, as I appear to have already let loose the truth of my feelings for you, I may as well follow it up with my intentions. I want you for my own more than I have wanted anything else in this life. I would even give up my trade in architecture if it meant earning your praise and your hand. I said before that my reasons for helping you apprehend Hawkins were selfish ones. As much as I wished to exact my own revenge on him for the way he treated you, I also agreed to help you because I want to do all in my power to secure your happiness.”
“My Lord – I want no one else but you,” Claire barely whispered her reply. She felt as though a tremendous burden had been lifted from her in that instant. So often, in the past weeks, she had been tongue-tied and unable to give answers where she should have. However, when it came to Lord Dalton, she felt no hesitancy. Her heart knew what it wanted, and it did not dare to pass up the opportunity to claim it. Especially when she knew that no barriers or prior commitments prevented her from being with him.
Claire felt an irresistible pull as the sli
ght gap between her and Lord Dalton closed. She felt his strong hands moving around her back, holding her in a sure embrace. She knew with absolute certainty that she would never grow tired of feeling herself held safe in his arms. Each time, from here until the end of their days, when he held her, she knew she would be transported back to that first moment when he had caught her falling out of the carriage at Holdenwood Manor. However, now that she knew his feelings and knew that her own desires were echoed in his, she wanted more than ever to be held. For his part, Lord Dalton seemed more than happy to oblige.
Where Mr Hawkins had once tried to kiss her with a sudden, impatient passion, Lord Dalton treated Claire with something like reverence. As his lips slowly moved closer to hers, he seemed to take his time in savouring the moment. Claire gazed into his grey-blue eyes and could see that there was no hesitancy or nervousness in him. He paused, conscientiously, because he wished to remember their first kiss, and because he wished to drink everything in.
For her part, the feel of Lord Dalton’s fingers moving up her back to gently cup the back of her head sent a thrill through her, quite unlike any she had ever known. Her lips parted and she let out the softest of sighs. As though answering that loosed breath, the earl finally brought his lips to hers. The sweet press sent a sensation of pure rapture and relief through Claire.
Though for so long Claire had thought Lord Dalton to be a reserved and careful type, she found none of that displayed in his kiss. Indeed, after that first gentle and tentative touch of their lips, she felt the earl’s fire and passion ignite. The strong, capable hands that held her, tightened their grip and Claire found her entire body tensing in a way that was oddly pleasing. With her eyes closed and her senses numb to anything in the world that was not Lord Dalton, Claire continued to kiss the man, intoxicated by his taste, by the smell of him, and by the feel of his strong marble-cut arms, as she allowed her fingers to travel over them.
It was impossible to say how much time had passed since Claire had left the inn. The very notion of time, in its form of minutes and hours, seemed a most redundant and mutable concept to Claire. Lost as she was in her moment of bliss, she knew she would not have noticed if entire hours had gone by, as they held one another by the river.
Eventually something penetrated the delightful haze that hovered over the couple.
“Lord Dalton! My young niece may very well be indebted to you for all you have done for us these last days, but I hope you are not taking advantage of her gratitude. I must remind you, that before you take hold of my dear niece in so intimate a manner, you should first have observed the proper niceties and laws that society lays down for her benefit.”
Claire’s face flushed red, and her slightly swollen lips sketched an embarrassed smile. Lord Dalton, on the other hand, looked confident and proud as they both turned toward Claire’s aunt, who stood a short distance off. Aunt Lynch wore an almost triumphant smile of her own, seeming quite pleased with herself that she had caught the two of them together and had been able to make sport of them in her usual irksome manner.
“While I am quite sure that your mother and father will have no objection to your marrying a man of Lord Dalton’s character, I hope you will not make a habit of sneaking away to the riverside like this too often before things are formalised between you.”
Claire gave an exasperated laugh and shook her head. With some reluctance, she pulled herself free of Lord Dalton’s arms. She knew full well that it would not be long before she was returned to that sweet embrace. For now, however, her aunt was probably right.
“I suppose I really should behave with more decorum,” Claire whispered to the earl. “Indeed, I do not think I should indulge you in such a manner again until you propose to me properly.” There was a glimmer of amusement in Claire’s eyes as she spoke, challenging the man.
“I will have to remember to read some more of those books you love, just to ensure I say the right things,” the earl retorted. “Still, I believe you have given me more than enough incentive to try my hand at creating some pretty words for you.”
“If you are unable to do so, you could always build me a pretty house as proof of your devotion,” Claire said.
The two laughed and began to walk away from the water’s edge. As they approached the path, Lord Dalton stopped. Claire turned to look at him. “Is something the matter?”
The earl looked back at the pebbled shore on the river’s edge. Claire followed his line of sight and noticed the poetry she had brought with her was scattered about over the stones. She must have dropped the pages when she and Lord Dalton gave in to their beautiful moment.
“You came here to dispose of these poems. I interrupted you. If you still wish to rid yourself of these things properly…” His words trailed off.
Claire glanced at the papers and gave a casual shrug, her contented smile remaining on her lips. “I thought I came here to rid myself of memories. Instead you have helped me to forge new and better ones. I do not think I need to say goodbye to those sheets of paper in some overblown ceremony.” She extended her hand, encouraging the earl to offer her his arm. “Come now, the wind will banish all of it soon enough.”
The earl’s strong hand took Claire’s and placed it on his arm, and she felt that thrill inside her all over again. As they ascended the bank and returned to the path, Claire Curtis did not once look back at the discarded memories of Mr Hawkins.
Chapter 20
Claire thought her return to London could not have been made under more joyous circumstances. She could not dispel the smile, or look of bliss, from her face, and two or three times this earned her a jocular reprimand from her aunt, who complained at having to sit in the company of the rapturously happy couple for so many hours.
More than once, Claire tried to show a measure of restraint, forcing herself to consider matters beyond her own blissful bubble of existence. First amongst the list of concerns she knew she should keep in mind, was her sister. During the weeks since her banishment from Holdenwood Manor, Claire had not allowed herself to think too much about Grace and the fact that her child would soon arrive in the world. Even when she had been looking for books for the little one, Claire had done so more out of a desire to occupy her mind than anything else. Now, however, with the matters of her heart settled, and with glad tidings to impart to her sister and brother-in-law, Claire found she had no greater wish than to return to Holdenwood Manor. More than this, she longed to be able to support her sister through her confinement.
She had accepted staying away when she thought her company was not desired. Now, though, all she wanted was to be with family and to share the happiness she had found with the Earl of Dalton with them. Knowing that the union would be welcomed by both Grace and the Duke of Cromford made her all the more determined.
Once in London, Lord Dalton parted ways with Claire and her aunt. He expressed a strong desire to inform his sister about the developments between Claire and himself. From what Claire had learned of the earl’s stepsister, Amelia would likely have some strong words of chastisement for her brother about his leaving the city at such short notice. As Lord Dalton told it, Amelia was a most fastidious young woman who did not look favourably upon rash acts. With this in mind, Claire had to wonder how well Amelia would take to her. Amelia was, by all accounts, protective of her older brother, and Claire could not help but worry that the woman would not approve of his choice of partner. Of course, this did not mean that Claire had any intention of giving up her love. Even if Amelia proved frosty toward her, Claire knew she could do all that was required to make things function.
Claire and Aunt Lynch stayed at their address at Grosvenor Square for two days. Lord Dalton called once during that time but was unable to stay for long. He had, he said, been caught up in meetings with his neighbour, Mr Rosingden. By all accounts, the businessman could not thank the earl enough for having brought his daughter back to him and for his role in saving her from the imprudent match she had been determined to make. Nev
er one to seize glory for himself, Lord Dalton had been quick to relate Claire’s part in the apprehension of Mr Hawkins. The earl was pleased to be able to tell them that Mr Rosingden wished to visit them, in due course, to thank Claire and her aunt for their part in saving his family’s honour and reputation from ruin.
As for Miss Rosingden and Mr Hawkins, the news was grimmer. After being returned home from Gretna Green in a private and surveyed carriage, Miss Rosingden was placed more or less under house arrest. She found that most of the friends that she had made during her father’s rise to prominence had deserted her. The scandal of her running away to Gretna Green with a man of low repute had worked its way through all the social circles of London, and it seemed that the young woman was likely to suffer for her foolishness for some time to come. What made matters worse for her was her stubborn determination to stand by Mr Hawkins. In spite of all that she had learned about the man’s past dealings, and regardless of all the censure she had received, Miss Rosingden seemed set on her course. She dug in her heels and made as much trouble as she could, in a vain attempt to be reunited with her erstwhile love.
Mr Hawkins had been brought to one of London’s gaols. Mr Rosingden and several others were in some quandary as to what should be done with the man. Although it was obvious that Miss Rosingden had not acted under duress in choosing to run away with the poet, there were still sufficient grounds to charge Mr Hawkins with abduction. More than this, the poet’s intentions to spend Mr Rosingden’s money and claim his properties as his own were another felony. Even if Miss Rosingden had been the one to bring him her father’s coin and holdings, it was clear that Mr Hawkins intended to spend them as though they were his own. None of these crimes were enough to send Mr Hawkins to the gallows, but it was more than probable that the man would serve time in gaol as punishment for all he had done. Claire did not care to think about it. As far as she was concerned, she had done all she could to save Miss Rosingden from an inconstant and untrue partner, and she determined to rejoice in her success even if Miss Rosingden would never thank her for it.