“Please, Seger. I cannot stay in this house and face adversaries if you do not trust me—or if there is no hope that you will ever love me.”
He turned away from her and moved to the opposite side of the bed. “This has been a trying day, Clara. I wanted to kill Tucker because I nearly went mad with jealousy. And I didn’t want to feel any of that. I wanted to go back to the way things were before I met you. When life was less complicated.”
Clara swallowed over a sudden lump in her throat. “You mustn’t believe any of what Gordon said. I tried to get rid of him in the coach, Seger. Honestly.” She heard the desperation in her voice. “I told him I never wanted to see him again.”
“I want to believe you,” Seger replied, “but that’s the problem, you see. I can’t help worrying that I’m inclined to take your side only because it’s what Iwantto believe.”
She knew she was grasping at straws. “Quintina and Gillian.... This is all their doing. They want me out of here, Seger. Think about that. It makes sense. If you can’t trust your heart, trust that. Ask them.”
He nodded, and she almost cried out in relief.
Seger moved around the bed to stand before her. He laid a hand on her cheek and kissed her tenderly. “I will, but not now. It’s late, and after what happened today, I want to make love to you. I need to know that you are mine.”
She thought about insisting that he go and ask them now, but the weary look in his eyes changed her mind. All that mattered was her husband’s confidence in her love for him, so she pulled off her wrap and began to unbutton his waistcoat.
When Clara woke the next morning, Seger was gone.
She took a deep breath, knowing this day would either turn out to be the dissolution of a family or the dissolution of a marriage. There would be a confrontation. Accusations. Someone was going to be ousted and maybe even sent away.
She prayed it would not be her.
Clara rose from bed and rang for her maid. A half hour later, she left her room to go and knock on Seger’s door. She wanted to go to the breakfast room on his arm. She wanted to present a united front.
When she reached his room, however, his door was wide open. She saw him standing in front of the window, handsome as ever in his dark morning jacket and waistcoat, so she entered without knocking.
He was holding a letter in his hands.
“Seger....”
He faced her. “A footman just brought this.”
His eyes were dark with concern. Clara took the letter and read it.
Dear Lord Rawdon,
I am the one who sent you the telegram on your wedding day. Ihave information about your wife.
Please meet me at ten o’clock at Hyde Park, under Marble Arch.
“Who sent this?” Clara asked, as panic welled up inside her.
“It doesn’t say.”
She swallowed nervously. “Have you talked to Quintina yet?”
“No, and there won’t be time. It’s almost ten now.”
Almost ten! Clara’s whole body tensed. “Will you go?”
“Yes. I want clarification.”
“What do you mean, clarification? I’ve told you everything, Seger. There is nothing you don’t know, nothing this person can possibly say that you haven’t already heard, unless what they say is a lie. Maybe Quintina has orchestrated this.”
He studied her face, then nodded. “It is quite possible, but I still have to go. I need to know who sent me that telegram, and why they felt the need to travel all the way here to explain themselves.”
“But do you still believe me about Gordon?” she asked.
His shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “I don’t know anything right now, Clara. I want to gather all the information before I form any decision. Surely you can understand that.”
