The baron’s eyes remained fixed on his brown shoes, as he and the woman who rejected him stood in awkward silence for a moment. Finally, Clara extended something out toward him. “Will you give this to your mother?” she asked, her voice stiff and uncomfortable.
“Yes.” Luke took the envelope without meeting her eye.
“Thank you,” she answered. “Have a safe journey.”
“To you as well,” he said emotionlessly. Then they both took several steps toward their desired destination—Luke, toward the staircase so he could scold John, and Clara toward the front door so she could go to London, find some prince to marry, and leave forever.
It is better this way,Luke tried to convince himself.She will be happier without you.He put a hand on the carved, walnut railing, but he couldn't convince his foot to lift onto the first stair.
You cannot leave like this,his heart begged back,this can’t be how it ends!But nothing with Clara had ended how Luke wanted it to.Don’t let her go!Beg her to stay!But he already had, and there was nothing he could do at this point.
Take the step,he urged his foot,walk away.
But then he realized he had not heard the door open. His heart began to pound within his chest.She is still here.
The hope he believed would never come back knocked lightly on his heart, begging to be called in. He let his eyes find her. Clara wore her plum-colored travel clothes, her cream bonnet shielding her face. She had a hand on the front door knob, but her body was facing sideways, not quite to the room, but also not to the door, as if she could not decide which way she would go.
Luke allowed the rest of his body to twist toward her.Choose me,he mentally pleaded.Come back! Be with me.
She took a large, shaky breath, her skirt quivering.
“Clara,” he whispered.
But she didn’t hear, because at that moment, she turned the knob and walked out the front door.
Chapter 19
Unheard Of
London
“Our cook is better than I remembered,” Clara commented as she and Papa ate their chicken dinner. They had just arrived in London, so it was only the two of them for the meal that night. Clara would have a full social schedule once news of her arrival spread.
“It is Luke’s cook,” Papa said, his eyes on the plate. “He insisted she come with us.”
“Oh …” Clara felt the familiar ache in her chest. The same pain that came regularly these days.
Of course Luke sent the cook. Even when he is not here, he cares for you,her brain scorned,and yet you treat him as if he means nothing to you. You accepted his love and never gave any in return. You couldn’t even -
“Are you nervous for tomorrow?” Papa interrupted her critical thoughts.
Tomorrow was the day she would be presented to the queen and officially be out in society. She had been looking forward to this her whole life! And yet, it did not seem nearly as important as it once had. She did her best to muster up enthusiasm. “I am excited,” she announced, hoping that saying it aloud would make it true.
“Very good,” her father replied. “I wish your mother were here to assist you. You are sure Lady Palmer will be sufficient?”
While Clara had hoped Mother would join them in London this Season, her aversion toTownhad only increased each passing year. Clara was still not entirely sure why, but after seeing the cruelty of theton, she could understand wanting to keep her distance. While her father could act as chaperone for most events, a married woman had to escort her at St. James’ Palace. Clara felt lucky her dear friend, Alice, had agreed.
“Yes, I am pleased with the arrangement,” she answered.
Before retiring for the evening, Clara stopped in the countess’s suite. That is where her elaborate court gown was being stored, and where she would dress the following morning. It was a large space, with a permanent bathtub and marble-topped vanity, making it the perfect place to get ready for her first court appearance. Her hair and make-up would take a great deal of time and manpower. Four maids had been hired specifically for the task, one of which had served the queen herself. No expense was being spared. No corner was being cut. Clara’s entrance into society would be flawless.
The dress was, quite truthfully, an eyesore—large and chaotic. Rather than selecting one element to highlight, each and every fashion trend was splashed across it. There was embroidery, lace, ribbon, tassels, and feathers. It cost more than many English citizens made in a lifetime, and it was sure to capture the eyes of all in Queen Charlotte’s court.
From a fashion standpoint, Clara hated it.Is this really what I want?she questioned. The gaudy garment looked back at her.Is this still my dream?
“Of course it is,” she whispered to the dress. “This has always been my dream.” But as she lay in bed that night, it was not balls and gowns that filled her head, but a man. A man with green eyes and dark curly hair, walking with her down the streets of London, laughing and talking. The dream felt warm, happy, and safe, and Clara was highly disappointed when she had to wake.
On a Ship Headed for Spain
