“And she has helped you too, you know. She cared for your home and your tenants, and made you come out of your shell. When I met you, you were a shy, sulky boy. Clara has helped you find happiness.”
And while what he said was true, Luke did not want to hear it. “I need to go, John.” He attempted to push past him.
“I know, but …” he looked as if he desperately wanted to say more. “Just … make sure you find Mother and say goodbye.” He nearly stopped there, but shook his head. “And, Luke, you really should eat something first. I can send word down to Cook to prepare a small meal. Though, it is your cook down in my kitchen. Will she be going with you?”
He is stalling, Luke realized.He is stalling so I will be forced to speak with Clara. Not only that, but John was very visibly blocking the room’s only exit.
“I am not hungry, and I will hire a new cook,” Luke answered, pulling his bag from John’s grasp before ducking under the earl’s arm. “Goodbye, John,” he said with regret as he ran to find Lady Merritt.
Chapter 33
Home
“Lord Gallant! What are you doing here?” Clara asked in frustration. He had definitely not been invited.
“I heard you had entered half-mourning so I posted the banns. I have come to take you to Preston.” He had his ‘charming’ smile plastered to his face. The one that seemed to say, “I am such a blessing to this world.” A ‘fact’ that certainly wasn’t true.
Clara was beyond shocked. “You posted the … Isaac, we are not engaged. I did not accept your proposal!” He must not have realized with the excitement of Papa at the ball, that Clara had never answered his question. But even if the misunderstanding of their engagement was an honest mistake, what gave him the nerve to post the banns without her permission? He had set their wedding date and announced it to all of England! Well, all of England except her.
Then again, why was she surprised? He had never asked for her input before. “I do not want to marry you,” she told him firmly, taking a step back.
The duke seized her wrist. “Clara, stop teasing me. It is time to go.” He pulled her a few feet forward, ignoring her protests. “I have a carriage for you out front.”
Clara dug her heels into the ballroom’s glossy floor, but it did not affect the tyrant man. “Let me go!” she insisted, slapping his hand away, but he acted as if he did not notice.
“Her majesty was enthusiastic when I told her the news. We have certainly secured a high spot in court next Season.” He did not even bother looking at her as he said it. She wasn’t a person to him, just a pretty thing to hang off his arm. A means to his popularity. But Clara would not tolerate his arrogance any longer. She flopped to the floor, sprawling across it like a sea star. Her stomach to the ground, her shoulder nearly ripping from its socket as Isaac kept his firm grasp on her wrist. She would not be going with him.
“What are you doing!?” he asked, his voice loud and cruel. His inner violence had finally surfaced. “Get up! You will soil your gown.”
Clara rubbed her legs against the floor, in hopes of collecting as much dirt on her navy skirt as possible. “I am not marrying you. Take your carriage and leave.”
Finally, he released her arm, letting it fall to the floor with a forceful slap. He crouched down, making their faces nearly eye level. His normally pleasant expression was scrunched in anger, and though his voice now dropped to a whisper, the snarl made him sound even more threatening. “I will not have a wife who disobeys me.”
“Then it is a good thing I will never be your wife,” she answered, pushing herself backwards and then scurrying to stand. Lord Gallant was still frozen in place, the shock of not getting exactly what he wanted stalling his action. She put more distance between them as he remained squatting in the middle of the ballroom. “Go home, Isaac.”
Slowly, he stood, his face as hard as a rock. “I have posted the banns,” he reminded her, “no one will take you if you break this off. You will ruin your social standing forever.”
He was right, but Clara didn’t care. She would rather have no one than be stuck with the duke. “What do you care?Yourpopularity will remain unharmed.”
“True,” he answered. “Very true. In fact, this shall probably be a greater boost to my fame than our marriage would have been.” He slowly meandered to the exit.
If they had ever cared for each other, more words would have been exchanged, but his reputation was unharmed, and that was all that mattered to the selfish Duke of Preston. The only thing that mattered to Clara, however, was finding Luke.
Isaac seemed to have forgotten about her, so Clara ran to the exit on the ballroom's far side, racing through the corridor. “Where is Lord Maxwell?” she asked the nearest footman, but the man did not have the answer. “Luke!” she shouted, rushing through the halls of the estate, “Luke?”
She ran toward his bedchamber, but spotted John in the hallway. “Where is Luke?” she asked frantically. She desperately needed to talk to him, to explain her feelings and Lord Gallant’s appearance.
“I tried to stop him,” John responded in frustration. “Hopefully he is still downstairs with Mother.”
“Stop him from what?” Clara asked as they both rushed to the drawing room.
“Going home.”
“Going home?” Her words came out in a confused whisper, and she slowed as she tried to process what he was saying.
“Hurry, Clara!” John urged, gripping her elbow and pulling her with him.
Clara’s head could not concentrate on the present.He is leaving,she thought.He is going home without me.Mother was right. I needed to tell him I loved him, and now it is too late.
