“To Spain,” Luke whispered, the awe prevalent in his voice.
Lady Merritt responded, “Of course, dear. We want you to be able to see your mother.” It was much too generous, but greatly appreciated. Luke thanked them both several times.
“Papa,” Clara questioned, “do I get to go to Spain as well?” Luke tried not to notice how beautiful she looked with the setting sun shining in through the room’s many windows.
The earl and countess glanced at Clara and then Luke before her father responded. “We shall see, ClaraBear. We shall see.”
Chapter 9
The Lie
“So, your brother will be an earl someday?” Mrs. Barnes asked in Maxwell Manor’s drawing room. Word had spread quickly that Clara was open to visits. No surprise really, Clara was a master at distributing social information. All week, women had been coming in and out for tea. She had entertained the vicar’s wife, several granddaughters of a knight, and a niece of a prominent fur trader. Currently, it was Mrs. Barnes and her daughter, Rachel. Mrs. Barnes appeared to be much like every other English mother: desperate to attach her daughter to one of Clara’s high ranking relations. Rachel seemed viable as a potential friend though.
“Yes, my father is an earl and my brother shall inherit.” Clara smiled a bit too sweetly. Mrs. Barnes was quite interested in titles, so Clara decided to drop another. “Though, this is Lord Maxwell’s house. He is a baron, you know.”
Mrs. Barnes dipped her head. “Why yes, and your betrothed, correct?”
Clara’s teacup shook in her hands. “Whatever gave you such an idea?!”Was that the gossip that was spreading? Did all of Harleston believe this lie? Mrs. Barnes was the first to mention it.
“I thought it was common knowledge,” the woman said with hesitation.
This was not good. A young, betrothed couple living together without any parents as witnesses? Why, that was the type of gossip that could ruin reputations for entire families. “Well, I can assure you, Mrs. Barnes, there is no understanding between Lord Maxwell and I. He is a family friend, that is all. I am not even out in society yet.”
Marry Luke? Ha! Ridiculous.
“I see,” Mrs. Barnes answered, giving her daughter a pointed look that seemed to say, “Looks like Lord Maxwell is also available. Pursue them both.”
Rachel was an attractive girl, similar in age to Clara. She looked almost elf-like: thin, pale, with red hair and green eyes. Surely someone in her line was Irish. Small freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, in a way that looked intentional, as if a fairy hand painted her face each morning. Neither Luke nor John had ever shown an interest in any of Clara’s friends before, but Miss Barnes, at least so far, seemed different. Perhaps Clara would finally do a bit of matchmaking. Luke really ought to be looking for a wife, anyway. He needed an heir, and seeing him around other women would help ease the rumors of their attachment.
“Miss Barnes,” Clara addressed the elf-girl, “I am getting a group of young people together for a picnic tomorrow. Would you care to join us?”
Rachel gratefully accepted the invitation, and the two women departed. Now, Clara just had to convince Luke.
Luke and John had met with the estate manager that morning, so John took his usual ride after the midday meal while Luke remained in the study going over charts and expenditures. The estate was doing well. In the original calculations, they had predicted several years of recuperation due to the remodel, but somehow the numbers were arranging themselves more favorably than they had anticipated.
He was rereading information about the year's projected apple crop when the new butler opened the study door. “My lord, Lady Clara requests an audience.”
Interesting. What did Clara need to say that could not wait until dinner?“She may enter.” Luke had not seen much of her since her parents left. He and John had been busy with tenant visits, and she had been socializing in ways that did not appeal to him in the slightest.
Clara floated into the room in a cream-colored gown. As always, her hair was perfectly placed and her skin flawless. She looked like an angel painted on the walls of a cathedral.Look away!His brain urged,Look away!But his eyes were glued to her perfection.
“Luuukkke,” she nearly sang his name, tilting her head as she did. “I was wondering …”
It did not matter what she said. He knew he would give it to her.Like an older brother wanting to spoil his younger sister,he insisted. Though he knew deep down he did not believe it. Regardless, his heart yearned to please Clara Merritt, and hearts are tricky to ignore.
Clara ran her finger through one of her loose blonde curls. “Would you like to join me on a picnic tomorrow?”
“What time?” he asked, fumbling through his paperwork, looking for the next day’s agenda.
“Well, I told Miss Barnes one o’clock.”
Luke’s heart dropped into his stomach.Fool, his head ridiculed,as if Clara would be satisfied with only you for company. “I may have a meeting.” But a quick glance at the agenda showed that was not the case. He placed a hand to his head. “How many people have you invited?”
“Just you, John, and Rachel, though, technically, I have not invited John yet.”
He recognized Clara's look, for he had seen her use it many times on her father. This picnic was important to her, and she was prepared to use her womanly wiles to get it. While a small part of him yearned to have such attention turned on him, there was no point stalling, he already knew he would give in. “Yes, Clara, I will join you for a picnic.”
The next morning, Luke accompanied John on his morning ride. His piece of land was not nearly as large as the Merritts’, but still perfectly suitable for an hour in the saddle. For most of the outing, they discussed the house, Luke’s tenants,and the economic success of the region. If there had not been wind blowing across his face, Luke may have forgotten they were not sitting in the study.
