Eventually, they entered the drawing room, though Clara probably would not have made it had John not led the way. It did not take long to see Luke was not there. Mother rushed forward in her dark gray dress. “The carriage is being pulled around.” She sounded anxious. “John, will you be going, too?”
“Going?” Clara’s brain was struggling to think of anything other than,I have ruined it. I have ruined it again. I’ve lost the man I love.
“To Maxwell Manor!” Mother answered, pulling Clara into the foyer for her gloves and bonnet.
“I am coming!” John said, a step behind them.
It was only a matter of minutes before the Merritts were all piled into their largest carriage. They had no luggage, minimal servants, and no real plan.
They rode through the night, switching out horses as needed, and sleeping on the cushioned carriage seats. Clara was the first to shut her eyes, though her mind would not settle long enough to sleep. She kept rehearsing what she would say to Luke. How to explain why it had taken her so long to come to terms with her feelings, and why she had not told him when she did. But what started as a fitful exercise, slowly became soothing. They would finally be on the same page with matching feelings for one another. They would marry and not only be best friends, but true partners. TheofficialLord and Lady of Maxwell Manor. Yes, Clara was going home. Home to Luke. And she did not plan to leave anytime soon.
The ride home was long and boring, as it usually was. Rain slowed his process, and Luke slept more than one night at an inn. While he had plenty of time to think, he tried his best not to. He had acted rashly, storming off instead of waiting for a logical explanation. He had been self-centered and childish, but he just couldn’t suffer the heartache of Clara’s rejection again. Rather than waiting around to see if there was a possibility she would choose him, he fled. Hoping that breaking his own heart would be less painful than having it broken by the woman he loved.
And he did love Clara, even more now than he had a year ago. Through the sorrows of the last few months, they had grown closer. They had supported each other in their grief. They had discussed their innermost fears and desires. Except, of course, for the ones that involved each other. While Luke had begun to believe affection was growing, the fear of it all being imagined had kept him from acknowledging it.
It did notmatter in the end. Clara deserved someone like the duke. Someone young, handsome, and well-connected. She would be an amazing duchess. It was her destiny. But Luke was still trapped under the Maxwell curse to live a sad, lonelylife.You are not a Merritt, he reminded himself.You were never meant to be one of them.
But immediately after thinking the words, a different voice popped into his head, a voice he would never hear again. “Don’t forget I love you, Luke, my son.”
And out in the middle of the English countryside, all alone, Luke wept like he never had before. He cried for the loss of Clara. He cried over the death of the only father he had ever known. His tears clouded his vision, and made his head pound as his horse slowly crept toward his empty home.
By some miracle, the Merritts arrived at Maxwell Manor before its master. They were not even in the door before Clara put her plan into action. “Prepare the household!” she told the servants. “Prepare everything, Lord Maxwell should be here soon!” Linens were removed from sofas, drapes were opened, the pantry restocked. “Ensure his lordship’s room is prepared,” Clara informed the housekeeper, “and,” she added with a whisper, “the baroness’s suite, as well.” The elderly woman nodded with a knowing smile.
The whole house was in motion—the servants, the countess, John, but especially Clara. She meticulously placed candles all over the foyer, lighting up the path from the door to Joan and Leopold. She was nearing the end of her task when a cry sounded throughout the house. “Lord Maxwell has returned! He is in the stables.”
“Places!” Clara yelled. “Everyone, to your places!”
Luke let out a sigh as he neared his home.At least it is not the old Maxwell Manor, he reminded himself. This one was usually far more warm and inviting. Today, however, it just looked large and empty. There were no servants in thestables, which wasn’t too surprising, they had no way of knowing their master would be returning. So Luke fetched his horse oats and water, and spent a few minutes brushing out his coat.You have to go inside eventually, he rebuked himself.
The side entrance was locked, so Luke went around to the front. It, too, was bolted shut. He knocked, a strange thing to do on one's own front door.
“Close your eyes!” A some-what familiar male voice shouted from the other side of the wooden entrance.
Luke shook in surprise. “Open the door!” he yelled back. “I am Lord Maxwell.”
“And I am Lord Merritt!” the voice shouted in return, “and I outrank you, and I demand you close your eyes!”
“John?” Luke answered in confusion, “John? What are you … ?”
His friend opened the heavy door a crack, poking his head through the opening. “Just close your eyes, mate,” John’s voice sounded exasperated, but his face was lit up in excitement. “Trust me.”
Luke hadn’t the slightest idea what was happening,Why was John here, and how had he managed to beat him home?But the baron closed his eyes and let his friend lead him through the doorway. “No peeking,” the earl chastened, “we all want to see your reaction.”
I have heard that phrase before.Luke realized.Of course last time, John left, and then Clara …
Before he finished the thought, he heard a swish of skirts. Two, little ungloved hands made their way to his cheeks. “Feel this,” Clara whispered. “I am standing in Maxwell Manor, and my hands are not cold.”
“Clara,” Luke whispered with affection, leaning his cheek against her palm. “You are here.” He could not fathom what was happening.Was this all a dream?If so, he never wanted to wake.
“Is it everything you hoped for?” Clara whispered.
“Oh, Love,” he sighed, reaching out his arms and pulling her in close. “It is better than anything I could have hoped for.” She lowered her hands and leaned against his chest. They stood there, nestled together for several heartbeats. As theydid so, Luke’s fears from his travels slipped away. Clara was here. She had come to him. She had chosen him! He could feel her love radiating through her embrace, even though he had yet to open his eyes. He pictured the first time he had caught a glimpse of his new home. He had looked at the surroundings briefly, but all that had mattered was seeing Clara. If Clara was there, anywhere could feel like home.
“Wait,” Luke whispered into her hair, “isn’t this the part where you tell me there is a cow in the corner?”
Clara laughed. “I had forgotten that.” She shook her head against his chest. “No, I was just going to tell my mother you peeked last time.”
“You wouldn’t.”
