“I have never been better,” Luke answered, “and London is not nearly as awful as I thought it would be.”
Clara laughed, looking up at him with smiling eyes. “From you, Luke Maxwell, I know that is high praise. What, pray tell, has made London so enjoyable?”
You!But surely he could not say that, at least not directly. Still, he longed to share true feelings with her. “I have always been fearful of this place and the responsibilities that came with it.” Clara nodded in understanding. “But being here with you, John, and your father, it does not seem quite so scary anymore.”
“I think many trials feel less troublesome with your family by your side." While, technically, he was not part of the Merritt family, there was no other appropriate word for the relationship they shared.
Another couple passed on the opposite side of the street. Unsurprisingly, Clara knew them, so they stopped for a moment to chat. Once they parted ways, Clara asked, “Do you think your mother would have liked London?”
Luke had not heard much from his mother since her departure to Spain, which was not too surprising. It was a long distance for mail to travel. But everything he had heard was happy news. Most of her ailments were a distant memory. In fact, last he heard, she was expecting a child. Clara had literally jumped with joy when she had heard the news.The baby is probably born now.What a strange thought. “I think my mother would like anywhere, as long as Alfonso was with her.” And as the words left his lips, he realized he understood the sentiment. It was not Rosecrest that brought his peace, nor Maxwell Manor, and it certainly was not London. It was Clara. Clara was his light. Clara was his joy. And it was Clara that could make any place feel like home.
Each day, it became more and more torturous to be merely her friend. The desire to further the relationship scratched at him like a stiffly starched collar.How do I get her to see me as more than a brother? Why is she so oblivious to myintentions? When will I finally be able to express how much I love her?All these, and many more questions were a constant strum in Luke’s mind.
Ding!went the bell at Maria’s Hat Shop at five o’clock that Friday. “Can I help you, sir?” asked the short shopkeeper.
“I have come to buy a hat with my lady,” came a charming voice. “Ahh, there she is,” Everett said as he spotted Clara and Miss Alice Smith on the opposite side of the room looking at large, feathered sun hats. The two women were the only customers in the shop. The shopkeeper simply nodded at Everett, and left to fetch supplies from the closet behind the counter.
Clara and Alice had ridden their horses to town, so they were both dressed in their navy blue riding habits. The dark blue hue made Clara’s eyes a focal point.
Mr. Merritt crossed the room, his gait long and confident. When he reached Clara, he kissed her hand. “Why, you look just as lovely as a summer rose, my dear!” Alice took herself to the other side of the room.
“What do you need to tell me, Mr. Merritt?” Clara inquired as she pulled her hand away, reaching instead for one of the hats displayed on the long table. It was much too large and frilly for her taste, but she was only using it to keep her hands unavailable to her cousin.
“Oh, do call me Everett. It sounds as if you are speaking to your father when you say Mr. Merritt.” He stepped in much too close.
“My father is an earl,” Clara contended, “no one has ever called him mister.”
Everett was not satisfied with her flippant comment. “Clara,” he whispered, though she had certainly not given him liberty to forgo her title, “I know your father dislikes me, but I thought you would be mature enough to form your own opinion.”
He was not wrong. Clara was definitely letting others influence her feelings. She did call all of her other cousins by their given name, there was no harm indoing so with him. “Very well,” she surrendered, “Everett, what do you wish to tell me?”
He placed a hand at the small of her back, and the foreign touch jolted something in her brain, though she could not decide if it was pleasure or fear. He leaned in and whispered, “I have an ingenious plan, and I need your help accomplishing it.”
His lips were nearly on her ear. She could feel his breath tickling the hairs on the back of her neck.Step away!Her head yelled, but Clara remained frozen in place, her eyes fixed on the hideous hat. “What is your plan?”
He slowly drew circles at the bottom of her spine, sending shivers up and down her whole body. “You see, your father only has one son. Most lords wish for an heir and ‘a spare’, but all Matthew has is you.” Clara flinched at such a disrespectful use of her father’s name. No one but her mother was at liberty to call him such. Thankfully, that flinch broke her petrified position, and, dropping the hat, she stepped out of Everett’s reach.
“What’s your point?” Her voice did not come out nearly as strongly as she hoped.
“I think you should marry me, so when John does not produce an heir, the title will remain in your father’s bloodline.” He gave her one of his dashing smiles, though she found it did not look as attractive as she once believed it to be.
“That is ridiculous!”
Clara took another step backwards, but Everett’s stride was much too long. In half a second, he had reached her. Clutching her wrists so she could not break free, he pushed her up against the shop wall. “Perhaps I did not make myself clear.” His usually handsome face twisted. “You will marry me, or John will not live to see the end of the London Season.”
“Alice!” Clara yelled for help, but a quick look around the shop proved that she was on her own.Where is Alice?she thought fearfully.
Unfortunately, Mr. Merritt had also realized there were no witnesses. “I will force you to marry me,” he declared. With a dark, wild look in his eyes, he pushed himself up against her and kissed her neck. “I will ruin you until I am the only one who will take you.” A low rumbling sound escaped his throat as he continued tokiss her. Clara kicked and screamed, but there was nothing she could do against his strong grasp. He stopped for a moment and pulled his face up to look into her eyes, “It will be easier if you just accept this, love,” he mocked.
“Never!” Clara screamed, spitting directly into his eyes.
Everett released one of her wrists and slapped her, hard, across the cheek. The taste of blood filled her mouth, and tears stung as they fell on her throbbing face.
“You will comply!”
There was a ringing in Clara’s ears, a perpetual, incessant ringing that did not seem to stop. And then suddenly, Mr. Merritt was on the floor, and the shopkeeper was wielding a broom. John had appeared, and his sleeves were stained with blood. Luke stood directly in front of her, holding her shaking frame, and telling her something, but she couldn’t quite hear.
The ringing sounded once more, and Clara realized it was the bell to the shop door. Papa bolted in with the constable steps behind him. “Papa!” Clara wailed, “Papa!”
