Lady Maxwell looked up from her yarn, squinting. “Yes.”
“They are amazing!” Clara gushed, reaching in to pull out another. There were eight depictions of Luke at various stages of childhood. “These must have taken ages!” She flipped one over and found the back was as tidy as the front. “Beautiful. Just beautiful,” she whispered, before asking a bit more loudly, “How did you learn to do this?”
“Practice,” Avianna said simply, not bothering to look up from her hands.
“Can you teach me?” Never, in all her life, had she seen anything quite like the embroidered portraits. They were exquisitely masterful and dripping with love. One glance at the image and it was obvious the artist loved her subject.
Lady Maxwell lifted a violently shaky hand into the air. “I am afraid I cannot hold a needle anymore.” Her voice was undeniably sad, and it filled Clara with sadness, too. Not just because she could not teach, but because the baroness could no longer participate in a talent she so obviously loved.
Clara lifted out the depiction of Luke as a newborn and was greeted by an image of a small Spanish villa. “What is this?” She carried the piece of fabric over to Lady Maxwell.
This time, it was the baroness’s turn to gasp, “Why, that is Alfonso’s house!” She dropped her knitting needles and took the image from the girl. “This was one of my first major pieces.” She brushed a loving hand across the satin finish. “It was difficult to do from memory.”
“This is where you are going to live?” Clara asked.
“Yes. Yes it is.” A tear leaked down the side of her face and she wiped it quickly away.
“So, how did you and Alfonso meet?” Clara questioned as she walked back to her chair. She had pulled out all of the finished embroidery, so only the unused materials remained. She selected a small scrap and began making round, somewhat sloppy, pink roses around its border.
“I was visiting my grandmother,” Lady Maxwell began, and as she told her tale, her tears subsided and her smile grew. Luke’s mother’s face pinked with emotion, and Clara relaxed into the back of her plush seat. The silence of Maxwell Manor had been broken. The room seemed to fill with light. In fact, the warmth was undeniable, and Clara removed one of her coats as she happily listened to the baroness’s story.
Chapter 5
A Cruel Trick
-the following summer-
1805
“The boys are home!” Lady Merritt yelled from the Rosecrest foyer as she pulled first John and then Luke into a warm embrace. “How was university?”
“Same as usual,” John said with a shrug before removing his hat and gloves.
The countess rolled her eyes at her son’s rather useless reply. “And Luke, how is the estate coming along?”
“It is going well.” He and John had stopped on their way back from school to check on its progress. “The old one is gone, and they are working on the foundation for the new one.”
“Right on schedule then.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Clara, come and greet your brother!”
A rather annoyed Clara appeared at the top of the grand staircase. Her dark-headed friend, Amanda Fletcher, stood beside her with a look that was far too giddy.
“Hello, John,” his sister grumbled, her irritation impressively thick.
Lady Merritt gasped. “Clara Anne Merritt, you better come down here and try that again!” The countess’s words flicked off her tongue much like fire wouldfrom a medieval dragon. Clara groaned before angrily flipping her violet skirt and descending the staircase.
“What has gotten into her?” John whispered to his mother. His voice was merry, as if he found his sister’s frustration rather entertaining.
His mother simply sighed in reply.
Clara finally entered the foyer, and Luke had a hard time pulling his eyes away. While he and John had been absent, Clara had finished the transition from child to woman. She was tall and slender, with just a slight, feminine curve. Her blonde hair was meticulously styled in a fashionable bun, with pale lavender flowers adorning its edge. Her pouty lips were full and pink, and her blue eyes shone like sapphires on her no-longer-freckled face.She is beautiful, he thought, instantly feeling guilty.That is my best friend's little sister.
Amanda had followed her grumpy companion, and they both halted at the bottom of the staircase. “Hello, John!” Now, Clara's voice sounded sarcastically sweet, and she sneered forcefully, pursing her lips under her perfectly slender nose. “How are you my dear, sweet brother?
“Much better now that I am reunited with my beloved sister!” John joined the sarcasm. “Come here, and give your favorite brother a kiss!” He gave her a satisfied smirk.
But Clara would not let him win so easily. She left her friend's side, taking the last few steps to John. They stood a foot apart; Clara glaring, John grinning. And then, she took the final step, pulled his head down, and planted a small peck on his cheek. John’s shock was evident, and Clara grinned triumphantly.
Well, she did, until John said, “And a kiss for Luke, too.”
