They had become quite friendly working on his estate last summer, but since his arrival, he had only seen her twice, and both times were uncomfortable. So far, this conversation also seemed to be leaning in that direction.
Clara kept on talking. “Amanda thought she was entering society, but apparently her father has already found a husband for her. Mr. Rowley. He is a banker down in town.” She shook her head, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He is at least fifteen years older than her, and Amanda is furious. I am afraid she is going to do something stupid.”
“Ummm …” She was probably doing something stupid right now, in the very same garden. Luke wasn’t exactly sure how to explain what he had seen.
But Clara had grown distracted. She glanced down at the book in his hand. “What are you reading?”
“Oh,” he flipped it over so she could see the cover, “it is a book about medieval knights.”
“Interesting.” She took it from him. “Do you know a lot about knights?” It was a small bench, and her face was far closer than it ought to be.
“I enjoy learning about them.” It was a bit of an understatement. Luke had scoured the Oxford library for any and all information he could find. He found it a fascinating subject because legend and fact mingled so greatly. It was impossible to tell if what he read was truth or fantasy, and he found that thrilling in a way he could not possibly explain.
She handed the book back. “We must get you a suit of armour for Maxwell Manor! There may be a few in our storage,” she said pointing to the house. “I am sure Mother would be happy to be rid of them. We already have plenty.”
He smiled broadly. “I would like that.”
“Great!” Clara stood. “Well, meet me in the attic tomorrow morning, and we can go searching for some.”
Luke nodded. He wasn’t one to use more words than necessary.
It appeared Lady Clara was leaving, but then she stopped. “Oh, wait.” She turned back around. “You never answered. Have you seen Miss Fletcher?”
Luke gulped. “She and a stable boy went that way.” He nervously pointed down the path.
Clara groaned. “I knew she was going to do something stupid,” she mumbled as she rushed away.
Chapter 6
Truth and Fantasy
The following morning, while Clara’s maid styled her hair, a knock sounded on the door of her bedchamber. Usually the abigail would have answered, but she was in the middle of a complicated plait, so instead, Clara called out, “Come in!” The door swung open revealing both Mother and Papa.
Blast.She had not spoken to either of them since her outburst in the study. While she was no longer hysterically crying about their decision to keep her out of society until she reached twenty-one, she was not pleased about it either. Of course, after seeing how Amanda’s ‘courting’ had ended, she was starting to appreciate her father’s concern more than she had the day before. After chatting with Luke, Clara had found Amanda sobbing, alone in the garden. The stable boy had wisely fled when he realized Miss Fletcher hoped to harm her reputation. The poor girl had returned home sorrowful, and Mr. Rowley posted the banns. The wedding would happen in a few weeks.
Papa took a seat on the sofa near the doorway, and Mama came and stood next to Clara. She did not waste time on greetings. “Your father and I have come to an agreement.” She had her ‘countess’ face on, dignified, regal. It was a look that seemed to say, “Do not argue. This is what is happening.”It did not instillClara with hope.
“You must wait until you are twenty-one to enter society.” Before Clara could voice a complaint, she continued, “However, once John finishes university, you may go to London during the Season with him and Papa. You will not be out in society, but you will be able to attend dinner parties and the theater, and-”
Clara’s squeal drowned out the end of the sentence. “Thank you! Thank you!” She pulled her mother into a quick hug before turning to her father. “Thank you, Papa.”
“You are welcome, ClaraBear.” He gave her back a loving pat.
“Will you be going toTown,too?” Clara asked her mother. She knew Lady Merritt had negative opinions about London, but perhaps those had faded with time.
The countess shook her head. “No,” she said curtly. “No, just you, John, and Papa. And Luke, if he wishes.” The woman did not meet her daughter’s gaze. It was odd that only the earl had ever stepped foot intoTown, when they lived only a half-day’s journey away.
Clara turned her curious look to her father, hoping he would explain the situation, but Papa simply smiled. “Well, John is waiting for me in the stables,” he remarked as he and Mother slipped back out the door.
“Will you be coming to London with the rest of us?” Clara asked as soon as she had finished telling Luke about her parents' decision. He was pretty sure her retelling of the conversation took twice as long as the conversation itself.
“I hope so.” It was a few years away, so he had not given it much thought yet, but he would have to brave the House of Lords eventually, and it would be far easier with Lord Merritt at his side.
“Do you have a home in London?” she questioned.
“Not yet.” Yet another item on his long list of things to buy.
“Well, I can help you look for one while we are there. You will need it during the Season. Though, I suppose you can live with us for now. But truly, anything inLondon is a great asset.” She kept talking for a good twenty minutes. With anyone else, Luke would have tuned out, but something about Clara always piqued his interest. She was so knowledgeable in some areas and so naive in others. Like his knights, the truths and the fantasies sometimes blended together. She never lied. No, Clara was a woman of integrity, but when she told a story, half of it was what truly happened and half of it was what she wished had happened, and she never clarified which was which.
