Sophia led her to an alcove where they could sit down and speak in private. “Has he told you he loves you?”
Clara lowered her gaze. “No, and I have no idea if he is even moving in that direction. He treats me with kindness and consideration, but....”
“Does he sleep all night with you?”
“Yes, every night.”
“Well, that’s something.”
“I suppose. He is very tender and loving and he flatters me, but I believe that is his natural way when he makes love to women. It’s why they all want him so badly.”
Sophia shook her head. “You mustn’t think about other women, Clara. His bachelor days are over, and you are his only bed partner. Unless.... You don’t suspect that he is—”
“No, no. We are together every night and there has never been any evidence of...well, another woman’s perfume or anything like that.”
Sophia leaned back and looked the other way. “I can’t believe we are even discussing such things. There is no need of it, really.”
“No, you’re right,” Clara replied. “Truly, I have banished such concerns over the past few weeks. Well, for the most part. He really has been wonderful, Sophia.”
“I’m glad. And if Gillian continues to strike out at you, it will all come around. Seger’s an intelligent man, and he will see the truth for what it is.”
Clara sighed gratefully. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Sophia clasped her hand. “You would get along just fine.”
After meeting with his solicitor to discuss a small financial matter, Seger walked through Piccadilly and found himself dreaming about his wife.
He’d never imagined marriage would turn out to be so immensely pleasurable. He’d certainly had his doubts.
Well…. He still had his doubts. There was the issue of Clara not trusting him, which continued to trouble him, but he hoped that would soon take care of itself. He was doing his best to work through it.
Other than that, Clara was beautiful, amusing, enchanting. He was surprised to discover how much he enjoyed simply talking to her. They often stayed up late, conversing about their days as well as books and art and society. He adored her impressions of life and people. Her original, insightful opinions always fascinated him. Perhaps it was because she was American and had been brought up with different values. He appreciated how she made him look at life.
He also realized that he was beginning to feel less awkward in relating to her on a personal level. It was as if something inside him had awakened. He didn’t know what to say about it, though…or if he should say anything at all. Things were so easy between them, maybe there was no need. Clara seemed happier in their marriage. Perhaps she could sense what was growing between them and would learn to trust him over time.
If only he could go back and repeat that unfortunate argument they’d had about Gillian. He would handle it differently. He would be less defensive. He certainly wouldn’t walk out on her. Perhaps tonight he would apologize for the way he had handled that conversation and ask Clara if she still felt uncomfortable around his cousin.
He passed a dress shop and stopped to look at a ball gown in the window. It would look stunning on Clara. She would outshine every woman in London. In the world, for that matter, with her dazzling smile and winsome laughter. The color of the dress was magnificent. He moved on and decided he would tell her about the dress that night. She might want to have a look at it herself.
Good heavens,he thought with a smile, tapping his walking stick along the ground. He must be deeply besotted if he was going to talk to his wife about a dress. Imagine that.
He became aware of his stomach growling, so he turned into a small cafe. After being seated at the back, he ordered the lamb and requested a newspaper.
Not five minutes later, he heard someone speak his name and looked up.
“Quintina. Gillian.” He set down the paper and stood. “What are you two doing here?”
As he rose to greet his stepmother, he realized that their relationship had not been quite so strained lately. He had not thought about his anger toward her concerning Daphne, which had been the leading wedge between them for years. He wondered if Clara’s companionship was affecting him in imperceptible ways that were influencing other areas of his life.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Quintina said. “We’ve been shopping and thought we would stop for a bite to eat.”
Seger gestured toward the empty chairs at his table. “Please join me.”
The ladies ordered their meals and told Seger about their purchases—hair ribbons and combs for Gillian, a hat for Quintina. Just before the food arrived, however, Quintina pressed a hand to her head.
“My word, I have developed the most painful headache.”
Gillian touched her hand. “Can I get you anything, Auntie?”
