A Rogue's Courtship: Clean Regency Romance Collection

by Madeline St. James

  “Just a bit out of breath,” she explained. “I think it is all of the excitement.”

  “Do you need to take a break and go to the powder room?” She was genuinely concerned, but Claire shook her head.

  “That won’t be necessary. The play is just about to start.” She nodded to the stage as the lights dimmed. Lady Catherine continued to look across her husband’s chest to watch Claire, but she kept her gaze fixed on the stage until she felt her friend look away.

  Claire thought she felt the slightest, almost imperceptible squeeze on her elbow. She glanced down between herself and Christopher to see him shifting slightly, but she couldn’t be sure if he attracted her attention on purpose. Her elbow tingled, and the more she thought about him trying to comfort her, the more the warm feeling spread up her arm, into her shoulder, and down to her fingers. She hadn’t tingled like that in quite some time. The first time was when he had come to Madame Kingston’s and laid down by her side, grabbed her hand, placed it over his chest, and pulled her to him. Where his hand cupped over the top of her own, and where his other hand curled around to rub the small of her back had tingled just as her arm did now. Claire struggled to focus on the play as it started. She didn’t think they were ever going to make it to intermission, and she was glad to see that both Lady Catherine and Lady Sophia needed to get up and stretch their legs. This left Christopher in the position of having to escort Lady Sophia, and Claire was able to walk behind him as opposed to having to be right next to him.

  As they walked, she couldn’t help but to succumb to her inner ramblings. What was he doing here? Why had he come back? Was he going to report her? If he did, who would he tell? The Duchess? Lady Catherine indicated the Duchess wasn’t in attendance at the play because her theater box was empty. Claire’s mind spun, and she was glad for the moment to catch her breath in the powder room. She was immediately subjected to introductions to women she met there. She had no chance to clear her head and remember names and faces, as well as deal with her anxiety over seeing Christopher again.

  Claire exited the powder room and found him waiting with Lord Bradford. She smiled politely without saying a word until Lady Catherine spoke up once again.

  “Lady Claire, are you sure you’re alright? You’re as pale as ever. Perhaps a stroll outside would do you some good.”

  “Really, Lady Catherine,” Claire replied. “It’s alright. I’ll be fine, I’m anxious to see the rest of the play.”

  “As it happens, I could use some air as well,” Christopher offered. “If it is alright with Lord Desmond, I would agree to escort you as a chaperone if he would look after Lady Sophia in turn.” His voice was low, but he spoke in a tone that commanded attention.

  “That’s perfect. A great idea, Marquess. Thank you for the offer.” Lady Catherine clapped her hands together and Lady Sophia smiled politely. Claire didn’t see any way out of this, so she linked her arm with Christopher and felt the tingling in her limbs as she was escorted towards the door. She glanced back to see Lady Catherine and Lady Sophia grinning and chatting excitedly with their heads together, watchingher departure. Claire suddenly had the sneaking suspicion that perhaps the whole thing was planned. The problem was, she wasn’t sure if it was planned to see her to ruin, or as a matchmaking scheme. She had always anticipated the inevitable plan would be to find her a suitable husband within the socialites, but she never considered they would start so soon.

  She let Christopher lead her out into the gardens of the theater house. The night was warm for the start of the autumn season. She didn’t need additional cover over her dress, but still felt exposed and vulnerable in front of him. She waited for Christopher to speak. She didn’t trust her own voice.

  “It has been a long time, Claire,” he finally said. She looked up into his green eyes and her breath caught. He was smiling at her the way he used to.

  “It has, Marquess,” she replied. Her voice was shaky, and she was not sure what else to say.

  “So, we are on a formal basis now, then?” he replied. She shrugged, which was a most unladylike gesture.

  “You left. I assume it was because you were no longer satisfied with the services that…”

  Christopher stepped in front of her, coming closer than she would have liked. She had to tilt her head back a bit to look up at him. “I wasn’t unsatisfied,” he whispered. “I was sent overseas on a business venture with the Lord Bradford. It kept me away. I have only just returned this month, having solidified the business and put it under the management that is trustworthy. I didn’t want to go, Claire. I didn’t have a chance to come say goodbye, and…”

  “It’s fine, I understand.” Claire was too hurt to continue. She could not help the feelings that flooded her, despite the fact that she knew she wasn’t at the top of his list of priorities. She was a prostitute, after all. She didn’t know why she expected anything different. Some small part of her wished that she was important enough to him to matter. He did not even take the time to say goodbye to her, and she felt closer to him than almost anyone else in her life. Claire looked away and she felt Christopher’s gaze on the side of her face. She took a deep breath. “Are you going to reveal my true identity? Lady Catherine and Lady Sophia have been most gracious helping me the last few weeks.” She thought if she pleaded on behalf of Lady Catherine and Lady Sophia, it might sway him to keep her secret.

  “I’m not going to say anything,” he confirmed. “I’m glad you’ve finally made it out. You didn’t belong there. I always knew that.”

  Claire looked up sharply. “Why didn’t you say any of this before?”

  “I didn’t want to damage your pride; you did what you had to out of necessity. From the day I met you, I wanted to whisk you away out of that place. Even before I found out that your brother gambled away your inheritance.”

  “But…”

  “Had I asked you to come with me, it would have been an insult and injury to your pride.”

  “I can assure you, Marquess, I have never been such a prideful woman as to have wanted a life of ill-repute.”

  “I understand. But you have also never been a woman to accept charitable contributions, no matter if they are made with the best of intentions. You are a giver, you care for people. You don’t know how to let someone else take care of you.” Claire thought about this a moment and Christopher pressed his point. “The last few weeks have been hard for you, almost unbearably so. Haven’t they?”

  Claire didn’t want to confirm his suspicions that she was beside herself with anxiety from accepting so much help from Lady Catherine. She didn’t know how she was ever going to repay her. Lady Catherine insisted that she was simply returning the favor after Claire took care of her during Catherine’s time at Madame Kingston’s. “Yes, they have,” Claire finally agreed.

  “Then perhaps you can understand why I didn’t pressure you?” His voice held a note of pleading.

  “Yes, I understand,” Claire relented, looking around the garden. It had been tended to and the beds put to rest, much like she thought her own feelings for Christopher. But standing in front of him now, she realized she had never felt so confused in her entire life. She always handled situations with decisiveness, but she had no idea how to proceed.

  “I suppose we should get back inside for the play,” she whispered. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Christopher for fear that she might cry. She had missed him; his kind words and warm embrace were a source of happiness in her darkest days.

  She turned to go back toward the theater. Before they stepped out of the garden, he whispered in her ear low enough for her to hear, “I missed you too, Claire.”

  Chapter 5

  Claire spent the rest of the evening in a daze. She didn’t register the rest of the play. In fact, she didn’t remember walking in and sitting back down. She was so confounded by Christophers statement. Had she really been that obvious? Claire stared, masking her features into something that was expressionless as questions and emotions ran
rampant through her mind.

  After the play, she was glad that they didn’t linger with Lady Sophia, who was anxious to return home and check on her children. Christopher paused as he bade her good night, and she murmured a good bye in return. Then she peaked at him through the curtain of the carriage window as they pulled away. She thought she saw him turn his head and glance at her as he helped Lady Sophia into their own carriage, but she supposed she could just be entertaining a fanciful notion.

  When they arrived back at the townhouse, Claire went straight up to bed and laid there, wondering what she was going to do now. Was she going to see Christopher again? If he was a friend of Lord and Lady Bradford, and by extension an acquaintance of Lady Catherine, surely that meant they would run into one another in the future. But what was she supposed to do about it? She couldn’t avoid him. She couldn’t cast everything aside and run back to Madame Kingston. And what did he mean that he missed her? Was she supposed to do something about that? How should he act regarding his sentiment?

  The weight of mental exhaustion finally drove her to sleep, but all too soon she was awoken by Sarah. Her head felt hazy and she blinked, looking around the room.

  “Good morning my Lady,” Sarah greeted her brightly.

  “Good morning, Sarah. Please call me Claire.” Claire sat up in bed as Sarah set a tray on the table beside it with some fruit and porridge.

  “It wouldn’t be proper, my Lady.” Sarah bowed her head.

  “Please, Sarah. You know where I have come from. I would hardly call myself…”

  “Begging your pardon,” Sarah interrupted. “But you are a high-born Lady. Don’t question your status.”

  Claire looked at Sarah, appreciating her kind words. “You are so kind. You could see me to ruin if you wished. I can hardly imagine how desperately unfair it is.”

  “I’m not one to judge you, my Lady. I’m happy that things are working out for you. I’m also content under Lady Catherine’s instruction.” Sarah pulled out a pale green dress with lavender flowers from the wardrobe.

  “It seems so grand to be wearing such beautiful things,” Claire murmured as Sarah slipped it on her body.

  “Lord knows you have earned it,” Sarah said.

  Claire ate breakfast quickly, unaccustomed to having the extra leisure time. When Sarah came back to the bedchamber, she was smiling.

  “My Lady, you have a visitor in the parlor.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes, the Marquess of Briarwood.”

  Claire felt the knot in her stomach that she had been battling the last few weeks loosen. In its place, a flutter began. It was as if butterflies flitted about inside of her, toying with her senses and emotions.

  “If it’s not too bold to say, the Marquess looked just as nervous as you do now.” Sarah’s grin was small, but Claire felt her cheeks redden.

  “Is it so obvious?” she asked.

  “You aren’t very good at hiding your emotions, my Lady,” Sarah replied. “I suppose that comes with practice, as I have noticed with Lady Catherine. She has had practice masking her true feelings about things in front of Lord Chancellor Haddington, and even members of the ton. I think with more exposure to the games that are played within the social circles, the better you will become at it.”

  Claire regarded Sarah for a long moment. “You are very astute, Sarah.”

  “I have the privilege of observing much, my Lady. Thank you.”

  “I feel we are similar in that regard,” added Claire. “I hope you and I will become good friends during my stay with Lady Catherine.”

  “My Lady, we already are good friends.” She turned and exited the room with a smile on her face. Claire finished dressing and then hastened to the parlor.

  Once outside the door, she paused to collect herself. She glanced down the hall to see Sarah and Lady Catherine with their heads together, glancing in her direction. She opened the door to the parlor and stepped inside, seeing the broad expanse of Christopher’s back as he faced the fire. He turned slowly when she entered the room, and she saw his eyes flare as he took in her appearance. He approached slowly and bowed deeply before kissing the back of her hand.

  “Lady Claire, you are a vision.” Claire felt her cheeks grow hot again and she curtseyed.

  “Marquess, thank you for the compliment.” She looked around the room, not sure what social niceties she should observe in this situation. They were meant to be chaperoned, but decided not to become overly worried about whether or not the practice should be observed.

  “I came to morning call in hopes that you might take a carriage ride with me this morning.” Claire glanced out the window to see the driving rain.

  “Do you think today is appropriate?” she asked.

  She looked back at him and he was smiling. “Of course. Don’t you remember how we used to listen to the rain together and the full moon would try to peek through the rain clouds?”

  “I remember.” Claire looked around, like she was expecting someone to overhear them. She felt a shiver run up her spine. She had cherished those evenings. She still found something soothing about the sound of the rain on the roof. The intimacy of those moments were what she craved the most in the late night hours when she couldn’t sleep. “Alright, let me grab a shawl.”

  She turned to the door, wondering if she should mention the fact that she didn’t have a chaperone. Claire was curious if he would care about such things. She was surprised to find it already considered when Mr. Leonard helped her into the carriage, and climbed up next to the driver on the bench.

  “Mr. Leonard, you’ll catch a touch of something. Won’t you sit inside the carriage?”

  “No, my Lady. Lady Catherine requested that I give the two of you some privacy when she asked if I would accompany you.” He bowed to her and she looked back at the house. Lady Catherine and Sarah were in the upstairs window looking down on them.

  “Mr. Leonard, I feel terrible causing you to suffer through rain and the cold for the benefit of our amusement.” Claire felt the twinge of guilt as she glanced up at Christopher. He looked as if he was about to call off the ride when Mr. Leonard insisted he didn’t mind.

  “Please, my Lady. Do get in out of the rain yourself. I am under cover here with the driver, and I confess it will do me some good to get out of the townhouse for a little while and have some fresh air. Baron Desmond does enjoy his cigars, as you know.” He smiled at her and Claire understood why he had so readily agreed to accompany them.

  “Very well.” She let Christopher boost her into the carriage and she settled down, facing forward. Christopher climbed in and sat across from her. After a moment, she felt the lurch and sway of the carriage. Claire looked at Christopher, wondering what she should say or do. She had never been courted before. It felt strange to be in so formal a setting as this.

  Christopher leaned forward and grasped her hand, holding it between his palms. He rubbed her knuckles and the back of her hand through her glove.

  “I wish I could hold you again,” he whispered. Claire’s breath caught in her throat at his words.

  “You do?” She looked down and she felt him reach forward. He tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

  “Yes, I do. I can’t tell you how I have burned for it. In the middle of the night when I can’t sleep, I think about my nights with you.”

  Claire felt the hot tears prick the backs of her eyelids. He was telling her everything she had felt for years. She could hardly believe that this was not a dream.

  “Christopher,” she whispered his name. In an instant, he was sitting beside her and she was in his arms.

  “It’s alright. I am here now, Claire,” he murmured into her hair. All of the fear and doubt she felt over the past year swelled inside her and began leaking out as the embrace squeezed it all away. She knew that by societal standards, they were being far from appropriate. But she never felt like she fit in with societies standards.

  They rode in silence for a while, listening to the r
ain on the roof of the carriage. Only when they felt the sway of the carriage turn back around did Christopher sit back and start to let her go. She didn’t want the moment to end yet. Like the nights in her room, time seemed to work differently with Christopher. It moved too fast. Claire tilted her head back, and Christopher smiled down at her. He cupped her chin and gave her a soft kiss before moving to sit back across from her. She began to wring her hands in her lap again as they drew nearer to the townhouse. Her mind buzzed with more questions. What would happen now? Would he call on her again?

  “Perhaps I will see you at the Duchess of Cambridge’s dinner party tomorrow evening?” Christopher said, sensing her anxiety. He was providing her a much needed answer to at least one of the questions at the forefront of her mind. A small part of her believed that it would all be over in an instant, like the first time. He could very well be called away again on business. Claire nodded. Lady Catherine was not keen on having to go to the dinner party, but she had accepted the invitation on behalf of herself and Lord Desmond anyway, since the Baron Desmond had agreed to go as well. By extension, because she was family, Claire was invited.

  “Yes, I think we will be going,” she murmured.

  “I am counting the moments until I see you there.” Claire glanced up into his face and saw the sincerity in his eyes. His words made her giddy, but the pragmatist in her wondered how long they would be permitted to rekindle their romantic affair with the rigidity of societal rules.

  When they pulled up to the townhouse, Christopher helped her down and escorted her to the door.

  “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.