“What are you doing?” Clara whispered in frustration.
“Having a picnic,” Luke responded dully, gesturing with his hands to the dinnerware.
They had eaten a wonderful meal of artichoke soup, fennel mackerel, roast chicken, and marzipan dessert.Luke really does have an amazing cook,she thought, before reminding herself not to allow his distraction. She pursed her lips, “Luke,” she said in a firm tone, “I want you to become acquainted with Miss Barnes.”
“No, thank you,” he responded much too quickly.
Clara had done her best to keep the drama and gossip from him, but it appeared he would not cooperate in her scheme without explanation. Surely he would comply once he discovered the precarious situation they were operating in. “They think we are engaged.”
“Who?” Luke questioned stupidly.
“All of Harleston! Do you realize how disastrous this is?” She waited for the outrage to show on his face, but his expression remained impossible to read. He must not have understood the implication. “It is scandalous!”
His forehead scrunched in thought. After a moment, Luke simply asked, “You think being engaged to me would be disastrous?”
“Ugh.” Clara moaned in frustration. “Take this seriously!” He was just as bad as John with his inappropriate jokes. “You need to show an interest in Miss Barnes so people do not believe there is an understanding between us.”
“I do not have an interest in Miss Barnes.”
Clara clenched her fists as she replied sassily, “Fine, Luke. Fine. Let them run my reputation through the mud. Let them think I am a big hussy living with my betrothed. I would leave, but then rumor shall spread I ran off to have your illegitimate child. I have only asked you for one thing, Luke. One tiny thing so my name is left unspoiled. I never-”
“Clara,” he clutched her wrist, stopping her rant. “I am sorry. I did not understand.” He gave her a worried look. “I will do whatever you think necessary. Why, I will even spread a rumor that I find you disgusting.”
Her forehead was still scrunched, determined to stay angry with him, but her lips twitched slightly. “That may help,” she grumbled.
“And smelly.” She bit her lip to hold back her smile. “And bossy.”
Finally, Clara laughed, pushing him playfully away. “Now that is just cruel!”
Since hearing the news, she had been downtrodden with fear. She would ruin her name, and all potential of an advantageous match, if she did not handle the situation with care. Her whole life hung in the mix! And while she had feared telling him, she found sharing the issue with Luke, and getting his assistance, had helped ease her worries. Together, they could fix this.
Lord Maxwell released her arm. “I will go relieve John of Miss Barnes." He bowed. “Is there anything else you need, Lady Bossy, I mean, Lady Clara?”
Clara smiled as she shook her head. “Don't forget to tell her I disgust you.”
Luke laughed. “I will, though I have a feeling she may not believe me.” And before Clara could ask what he meant, he ran toward the garden.
Chapter 10
The One Thing He Was Not Afraid Of
The only thing more terrifying than young women, were their mothers. Or at least that was the conclusion Luke had come to as Mrs. Barnes ushered him into her gaudy drawing room. The room was not large, only a little more than the length of the sofa. The decoration of choice was exotic furs. Mr. Barnes was a military man, so it made sense that he enjoyed carrying a rifle, but the plethora of animal skins made Luke feel ill at ease.
“Please, have a seat.” Wearing a fur of her own, Mrs. Barnes gestured to a chair covered in some sort of coarse black pelt with brown spots with a lighter gray skin flung across its top. Luke was already feeling nervous, and the scratch of the deceased creature’s hairs against his trousers did not help.
“What brings you here, Lord Maxwell?” Miss Barnes inquired from the sofa across the way. She was a willowy thing and the only surface in the room not covered by a dead animal. She wore a simple, green cotton gown that accentuated her striking red hair. Her pale, thin skin reminded Luke of his ailing mother. It—along with the intense, unblinking, grin Mrs. Barnes sent his way—did nothing to settle his stomach.
“I …” he tried again. “I enjoyed our picnic and hoped to become better acquainted.” It was not a very well executed compliment, but at least it made sense. He had Clara to thank for that. She had coached him incessantly on what he must say, down to the very word.
“I am glad,” Miss Barnes answered. Not with a blush, but with a triumphant smirk. “Would you like some tea?”
A maid with a tea tray appeared before Luke had time to answer, and Miss Barnes poured the liquid into small, ceramic cups. She was practiced in the art of serving gentleman tea, perhaps too practiced. Though her hands moved to the dishes, her eyes trailed him, fluttering up at Luke under a large set of pale lashes. “I was impressed with the picnic,” she said in a soft, though eerily high-pitched, voice. “You have such an expansive garden, my lord. I would love to see it once the dahlias are in bloom. They are my favorite flower. White roses would be a close second.” She said the words slowly, deliberately, as if it were information she wanted him to fully digest.
“I am sure Lady Clara will inform the entire neighborhood when the dahlias are ready.” Clara, too, loved the flower. She had insisted they be plentiful at Maxwell Manor, a request Luke had not hesitated to fulfil.
“Ahh,” Miss Barnes handed him the cup. “I had rather hopedyouwould show them to me.” Her voice was a breathy whisper. One that was surely loud enough for her mother to hear. Luke squirmed. Mrs. Barnes’s smile somehow widened. Miss Barnes had not been flirtatious at the picnic. What had Luke done to gain her attention? He wanted to know, so he could make sure it absolutely never happened again.
He suddenly felt guilty for laughing when Clara’s friends had thrown themselves at John. The man deserved an apology if he regularly felt this queasy. If given the choice, Luke would jump from his chair and run from the room without even gathering his hat and gloves. But Clara had asked him to come. She had begged him to form an attachment to this woman. He could not go back on his promise to help.
