“Of course, my Lord. I won’t go back.” Claire’s words were shaky as Mr. Leonard reached over and opened the door to the Baron’s chambers. The Baron let go of her hand, bade her goodnight, and she stared at the sympathetic smile of Mr. Leonard as he closed the door.
She all but ran to her room and began pacing. Should she leave now and spare them all the shame that was sure to come if anyone else found out about her? If the Baron knew, would the Duchess know, too? Were they walking into a trap tomorrow night for dinner and they would all be ruined? Claire wondered if she should confide in Lady Catherine about this development, but she did not want to worry her more than she already had.
Claire didn’t think she would be able to sleep that night, but she did lie down on her bed, staring up at the canopy. If he felt like it, the Baron could take all of this away from her in an instant. She heard of his temperament from Lady Catherine, but those words were almost in complete opposition to the way he treated her tonight. Perhaps a more sensitive person would have been egregiously offended by his words, but Claire was impressed by his candor. She considered her situation. If she was outed, she knew exactly where she would go to escape. Perhaps returning to that life was not much of an aspiration, but she knew more was at stake for Lady Catherine, Lord Desmond, and Christopher if the truth should come out.
Claire knew that Mr. Leonard was not likely to speak against her. If he had the confidence of the Baron, then his loyalty was sure to run deep. Claire inhaled and exhaled slowly, letting her eyes flutter closed. She drifted off to sleep and dreamed of warm arms embracing her. Coupled with the sound of the rains pitter-patter cadence against the roof, and she was lulled into the sense of security.
She realized that it was her own misgivings about her past that she needed to deal with in order to truly thrive in her new life. She considered that she might have to inquire as to the Marquess’ motivations for visiting the establishment if she were ever to truly be at ease with their affair. The opportunity to be alone with him to discuss such things and to feel his arms around her once more excited her. Claire turned her cheek into the pillow, pretending it was the soft enclave of his neck between his chin and his collarbone. As she had done on countless nights, she lifted her hand to the pillow and imagined the feeling of his chest rising and falling, comforting her throughout the night. She wondered if she had provided the same comfort to him.
Chapter 7
Claire woke the next morning feeling hopeful, then bounced immediately hesitancy and fear as she recounted the conversation with the Baron from the night before. She wondered how she might be explained if the Duchess asked about her. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to lie, despite his assertion that he would not interfere with the plan to see her status elevated. She kept her nerves calm by considering that with all of his ready answers last night, he was sure to have an explanation for her presence.
Claire joined Lady Catherine for breakfast in the parlor and was given extra lessons as to how to behave that night. She found the fact that she had to sit certain ways, address certain people first or wait to be addressed, and to also mask her emotions despite how she might feel about something, to be tedious. She wanted to see Christopher under different circumstances, because it would be more enjoyable for them to converse candidly. She knew he would dislike being addressed as Marquess, but according to Lady Catherine, she had to do so. Otherwise it would be considered rude and an insult the Duchess for not adhering to formality. Claire desperately wanted to speak with Christopher in a private setting, and she wished he would have come to morning call for her again. Lady Catherine laughed as she saw her looking at the door.
“Lady Claire, it would be inappropriate for him to hound you day after day. You’ll have to be patient until tonight.” Claire smiled and looked away from the door. She suffered through the rest of the lessons, and before she knew it they were having afternoon tea and then a rest before dinner.
Claire took time to explore the townhouse a little. She let herself wonder around, testing doors. No one stopped her. When she found a library, she loitered. Claire gazed at the many bound spines of the books, took a few down off the shelf, and lovingly perused their contents. She was taught to read by her mother, but time at Madame Kingston’s never afforded her the luxury to do so. Claire sank into a chair and submersed herself in the plot of the book she selected.
She got so caught up in the joy of reading that she didn’t realize when someone entered the library. “It’s almost time for dinner. I thought you would be with Catherine.”
Claire looked up and found Lord Desmond smiling down at her. “Oh! Lord Desmond, I didn’t hear you come in.” Claire stood and curtseyed quickly.
“It’s alright. I was quiet and didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Oh, thank you,” she replied. “I looked around the house a little today and found this room. I hope that’s alright.”
“Of course it is. Lady Claire, you do not need to apologize or make excuses for your own presence.” .”
Claire blinked up at him. “My Lord, I’m afraid don’t understand.”
“Even after a few weeks, I feel you still worry that you do not fit in. Catherine and I want you here.”
Claire felt the tears of gratitude sting her eyes. “That is so kind of you, Lord Desmond. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone, is all.”
“Did my father say something to you?” he asked. His eyes were so sharp and focused, Claire wondered if he already knew his father’s suspicions.
“No. Nothing we hadn’t already discussed.” She hated the lie, and she thought he perhaps saw right through it.
“Very well. I do hope if he does say anything untoward or against you, that you will come speak to me. I know you have Catherine’s confidence, but he can be difficult to deal with and I have a lifetime of experience.” He gave her a reassuring smile and Claire grinned. Lord Desmond was so caring, she could not bear to commit to the lie. She felt that she owed him the truth for his hospitality, and she didn’t want her ruse to come between him and the little time he had left with his father.
“He knows, Lord Desmond,” she said quietly. The look of alarm was instantaneous on his face. “But we discussed the issue at length. He said he will not stand in the way of yours and Lady Catherine’s assistance. He urged me to keep the secret on your behalf, but was also understanding of my plight and what my brother did to me. So please, I’ve told you the truth so that it doesn’t cause bitterness in his heart that you would deceive him. Talk to him; he was most gracious about it all.”
Lord Desmond let out a ragged breath. “That you can sit here and speak of it so calmly tells me you speak the truth. I have to wonder what his motivations might be, but in his advanced age he does seem to have softened a bit. I shall hope for the best and speak with him before dinner. Does Catherine know?”
Claire shook her head. “I didn’t want to worry her o’er much. This dinner seems vital for some reason. It is unclear to me if the Duchess is head hunting or what the purpose is of this dinner, but Lady Catherine is vexed by it.”
“True, she is,” he agreed. “The Duchess always invites socialites of note to these pre-Season dinner parties. It is her opportunity to wring out the latest gossip and news of the circles so that she can contemplate and twist them to her hearts perverted desire. She has nothing better to do with her time then to be wicked in such ways. Because Lady Catherine and I were away for so long, I am sure she is looking to either vindicate herself in some regard if she believes a rumor to be true. That, or she wishes to elicit a reaction from Catherine so that she might start the theatrics of the Season with much ado and drama.” His face hardened as he considered the precarious position of his wife.
“Are you sure my presence tonight is a good idea, then?” Claire looked at him hesitantly.
“Yes. Catherine wants you there because you have a very calming effect on her. I think with you she will remember to curb her opinions and refrain from antagonizing the Duch
ess.”
Claire straightened. She was happy to help Lady Catherine any way she could. “Very good then. I will go and ready myself for dinner. Thank you for the conversation, Lord Desmond.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Claire.”
Claire left the library after putting the book back on the shelf and made her way up the stairs. She didn’t meet anyone on the way, but she did find that Sarah had drawn her a bath and laid out the blue dress for her. Claire sank into the warm water of the tub, letting it calm and soothe her fears. She was certainly afraid of the Duchess and what she might do to all of them. But an even stronger emotion was her desire to see Christopher again. She wondered if he really would be susceptible to a courtship. He seemed to enjoy her company, and he would make a fine prospect for her future. In truth, Claire had never imagined herself with anyone else.
She rose from the tub calmer and with a clear mind. She knew the likelihood of speaking with Christopher alone tonight was not very high. But Claire also felt invigorated, with a renewed sense of purpose at the prospect of helping Lady Catherine. She pulled on the dress and looked at her reflection. She twisted to and fro, contemplating what was missing. Then, she grasped her hair at the nape of her neck, held it behind her head, and twisted up. That was it. She went to the small desk in the room and opened a jar, taking out several pins. She piled her hair on top of her head and began pinning it in place. Some of the tendrils escaped and cascaded down by her neck, but the effect was whimsical and rather lovely.
When she was ready, she joined Lady Catherine and Lord Desmond in the hall. Lady Catherine took one look at her and gasped. “Oh, I’ll be right back!”
She hurried away up the stairs and came back down after a moment. In her hand she held a small charm on a ribbon the color of Claire’s dress, and Claire held still while Lady Catherine tied it around her neck. The charm was that of a small bird, and they both felt it was fitting. Claire felt like she was constantly in flight, searching for a place to belong, flitting from one reality to another. But she finally fit in here, with the Desmond’s. If she needed to take flight again, she sincerely hoped it would be straight to Christopher.
Claire rode in the carriage with Lady Catherine, and Lord Desmond traveled with his father in the carriage in front of them. When they arrived, they were escorted into a townhouse that was even larger than the Baron’s. They were brought into a parlor where they met Lady Sophia, Lord Bradford, Christopher, and a handful of other people that Claire had made the acquaintance of at the theater, but couldn’t remember their names or titles. She took cues from Catherine and was able to pick up most of their names as they made their way around the room.
Claire could feel Christopher’s eyes on her as she was being introduced. When they finally greeted him and another man, Lord Antoine of Briarwood, Claire learned Antoine was Christopher’s younger brother.
Claire was very formal when she greeted Christopher. “A pleasure to see you, Marquess.”
He mirrored her formality in his greeting and when he introduced her to his brother. His brother looked so similar it was uncanny, but Claire found the light and humor that were in Christopher’s eyes didn’t reach his.
“Lady Bonnefant.” Antoine gave her a curt nod and without being told, she knew she was being dismissed.
When a voice rang out calling them to attention, every person in the room turned as an elderly woman with a perpetual sneer on her face entered. She was announced as the Duchess of Cambridge. The Duchess didn’t look at anyone in particular, but had an air about her that commanded attention. Claire, along with everyone else in attendance, curtseyed at her entrance.
“Dinner is served.” The Duchess turned and walked away from all of them, not bothering to address anyone in particular.
Claire followed Lord Desmond and Lady Catherine and was seated at the far end of the table, away from the Duchess. For that she was grateful. Christopher was on her right, Lord Desmond was on her left, and Lady Catherine to his left. Antoine was on the far side of his brother.
Dinner was a pleasant, civil, yet formal affair. Most of the commotion was at the head of the table where the Duchess sat. Claire was focused on keeping up with the many courses that came her way throughout the night. She let Christopher lead by example when using silverware and the tiny dishes set in front of her. She would glance down at Catherine to make sure she wasn’t breaking any rules of etiquette.
She thought perhaps the night would pass relatively scandalous until the Duchess called down to the Baron, “So, Lord Desmond. I see your taking in all of the familial riff raff.” Claire felt her cheeks flame as the Duchess’s eyes fell on her. She felt like a mouse under the gaze of a predatory hawk.
“Yes. A most unfortunate thing, losing one’s parents,” the Baron called back. “Although, I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about having parents, or being a mother yourself. Isn’t that right, Duchess?” Claire gaped between the two of them. She wasn’t sure the Baron could speak to her like that, but for whatever reason, it made the Duchess laugh.
“I see your body might be broken, but at least your brain isn’t addled. I suppose the world is full of some small favors. Or perhaps not.” She gave the Baron a cheeky smile and returned to her food. Claire heard the Baron mutter something from down the table, causing one of the women to gasp. She wasn’t sure what was going on, so she returned to her food until she heard Antoine address her directly.
“Have you nothing to say regarding the allegations made by the Duchess?” His voice was low and almost venomous. Claire wondered what she had done to displease him so. She had just met him.
“I don’t understand, Lord Briarwood. Am I supposed to be defending my character?” She stopped eating and looked up in time to see Christopher glower at his brother.
“Well, I should think so,” he replied. “That’s quite a label to be addressed with. She is besmirching your name.”
Claire thought about it for a moment. On the one hand, she could defend herself, which would make her look like she was accusing the Duchess of lying. On the other, she could say nothing, let the insult rest and potentially make the Duchess and the other guests believe that the assessment was correct. Claire didn’t see either option as viable, so she turned back to the course she was eating and thought more on it. She could feel tension ruminating from Lord Desmond and Christopher, but it was ultimately up to her to determine how to respond to such an insolent question.
“Although I don’t doubt the Duchess has a valid opinion on the matter, I am not privileged enough to make an accurate assessment of her opinion, as I don’t hold her confidence.” Claire felt pretty sure of her response because when she looked over, Lord Desmond and Lady Catherine were smiling into their cups. She had taken his underhanded insult and flipped it back on him in the most bureaucratic fashion she could think of.
Claire dug into her dessert tart and waited for the backlash. “I think you can understand, Lady Bonnefant, my concern regarding the vested interest my brother has taken in you. You have no dower, no estates, no money to speak of…”
Claire felt her face grow hot, but calmly interrupted him. “A vest interest implies investment, does it not? I beg your pardon, but as I am yet unaware of an investments made on my behalf, perhaps the Marquess would care to interject.”
Claire turned her eyes to Christopher, who gave his brother a murderous stare before responding. “I haven’t had the opportunity to speak with you on the matter, Lady Bonnefant, but it seems my brother wishes to pursue the matter post haste. I have written to the Desmonds regarding a proposed courtship.” He said the last words with utter disdain. It made Claire wonder why, if he didn’t fancy the idea of a formal courtship, was he putting himself through the pained process.
“As you can see, I am opposed to the idea on my brother’s behalf,” Lord Antoine countered. Claire was astounded as to why he felt such passion on the matter. She hadn’t ever done anything to Lord Antoine to be so loathe in his presence. As if se
nsing her question, Lord Antoine answered it for her. “You see, the Marquess here is set to inherit the estates of Briarwood, which come with a vast financial holding, as well as a large property on the west coast of England. My concern is, of course, not entirely personal.” Claire knew just looking at Lord Antoine it truly was personal. He was the younger sibling, set to inherit probably just a financial sum, if that. “But my brother has had the misfortune of being betrothed once before. It turned out the woman was a fraud, and her intentions were solely for financial and personal gain. It broke my poor brethren’s heart. I hope you understand. I do not wish to see my brother suffer the same fate twice. He was a lonesome creature after Miss Marie left. As one of his few remaining family members, I am concerned that his intentions are to court another woman with no title, financial inheritance, or estate holdings.”
Claire set her spoon down. So that was why Christopher came to her time and time again. He had been heart broken and needed a woman who couldn’t turn him away, because he had already paid for the night. She didn’t know which made her feel sicker: his deception, even though it was his prerogative to not mention the matter, or his brothers apparent glee at having caused an potential rift between them with this bit of news.
Christopher glared at his brother. “That is enough, brother. Perhaps it was a mistake bringing you tonight, as you have nothing better to do than insult the ladies of the table.”
“It’s alright.” Claire’s voice was eerily calm, even to her. “He can speak his mind, I take no offense. He isn’t the first person to express concerns.”
“Our father tasked me with interjecting on his behalf and reporting back to him immediately if I suspect our poor Christopher of falling under the entrapment of a woman’s guiles again. I’m his voice of reason, as it were.”
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