A prospect frustrating and frightening in equal measure.
The travel guide shut with a thwump, and Grand tucked it under his arm. “I’ve had enough of this desert heat. What say you to pursuing a cooler climate up north?”
Clara nodded. She needed to stop fretting and enjoy this moment. “Lead on, Grand.”
Leaving Africa behind, they strolled through the gallery’s Moorish interior and started up the next staircase within the Globe. Due to the dome’s poor ventilation system, thestale air thickened as they ascended to the next viewing platform. Clara smirked as perspiration glued her lavender dress of lightweight organdy to her skin. Cooler climate, indeed. Grand’s powers of imagination must be particularly heightened this day.
When they arrived at the next gallery, Grand guided Clara to the expected portion of the colossal map. She smiled. A trip to the Great Globe would not be complete without a visit to Bern, Switzerland. The city of Granny’s birth. The city where she and Grand had spent their wedding tour. Plaster models of the Bernese Alps rose from the map and jutted toward them and the globe’s core as sunshine streaming through the glazed skylight glittered off the white crystals dusting every snow-capped peak.
A wistful smile settled on Grand’s face. “One morning, I snuck out while Norma slept and hid an automaton on the bear fountain that was just outside our window. When we left later in search of food, my pocket watch struck the hour as we passed the fountain and activated the automaton. Norma nearly jumped out of her skin when one of the bear cubs came to life and began dancing around its bronze mother’s claws. My, how she laughed.” He reached out to touch the River Aare’s azure waters as though to recapture the memory, but his hand fell short to his side. “Have I ever told you that story?”
Hundreds of times, but it could never be repeated too often. For every time it was told, she could hear Granny’s contagious laughter once again. A single tear navigated the wrinkles of Grand’s face, and Clara caught it on his cheek with a kiss. Perhaps they’d explored enough for today. “Shall we go, Grand?”
“Go.” Grand echoed the word and seemed to watch it hang in the air. A light flickered in his blue eyes. “Why don’t we, Little Atlas? Why don’t we go this very week and explore thereal city of Bern together? I could leave the shop with Arthur, and we could set off on a genuine adventure.”
Clara’s mouth hung agape. Leave the shop? With a complete stranger? She needed to nip this notion in the bud before it blossomed into trouble. “As wonderful as that sounds, I couldn’t possibly think of traveling at present. I have too many pressing responsibilities at home.”
“Your responsibilities could be delegated to someone else for a few weeks.”
Delegated?Clara bit back the scoff. To whom, exactly, would she delegate? The one person who had promised to care for her and her family—the one person she had dared to depend on—had tried to rob them blind the moment her back was turned. No. The idea was ludicrous. Only she could understand the needs of her unique family.
Papa had said as much, just days after the dual funeral, when Mum began increasing her demonstrations to escape her grief and Grand had taken to bed with his.“My dear, capable Clara Marie, you’re the only one of us who’s managed to keep a stiff upper lip through all this. It comfortsme to know that while I’m tending the business,you’ve got things well in hand at home.”
Home, that was her place. Taking care of the family, that was her duty.
And that left no time for a personal holiday.
Clara offered Grand the most lighthearted smile she could muster and softened her tone. “My responsibilities are my own. I would never shirk them. Besides, if I left town, who would take care of the family?” Who would guard them against Mr. Forrester and keep an eye on Mr. Arthur?
Shadows gathered in the creases of Grand’s face. “Taking care of this family is not your responsibility to bear alone, Clara.”
She chuckled, shaking her head at the absurdity of that statement. “Of course it is, Grand. I’m Little Atlas, remember?Balancing our world on my shoulders is my purpose. Speaking of which...” Scooping up the silver pocket watch on her chatelaine, she confirmed the lateness of the hour. “We really must be heading home. I have to help Papa organize and tidy his disaster of an office because he’s lost an important shipping manifest, and this evening, I must accompany Mum to her whist consortium’s biweekly meeting. Otherwise, she’s sure to take Fred along and get herself into some sort of scrape.”
Snapping her pocket watch shut, Clara turned her back on Switzerland, and in so doing, noted a glare of brashest yellow amid the gallery’s neutral surroundings. Her stomach turned. Half-obscured by the farthest column to her left, Mr. Forrester sported his favorite waistcoat of paisley silk in that distinctively hideous shade of yellow she’d once referred to as garish canary.
She pressed a quaking fist against her bodice, willing her roiling stomach to still. In a blink, her ex-fiancé had turned her haven of seclusion into a menacing trap. She needed to get Grand and the letter away from here. If she distracted Mr. Forrester, perhaps she could buy Grand time to traverse all the stairs and reach the Globe’s custodians in the lobby. “S-stars. I almost forgot. Last week, I left one of my travel guides on the uppermost floor. Why don’t you head downstairs, Grand, whilst I dash up and see if it’s still there? Save your knees the trouble.”
Grand eyed her askance, but even so, he gave her shoulder a firm squeeze and then shuffled in the direction of the downward stairs.
Once Grand was beyond her sights, Clara wheeled about with a furious swooshing of skirts and confronted her former betrothed. Unaffected and unabashed, Mr. Forrester looked the same as ever, his customary air of suave assurance as heady as his sandalwood cologne. Just the right amount ofpomade smoothed the sides of his brown hair into place with shining precision, and he wore a bowler hat. Every stitch of his ostentatious suit was expertly tailored, every hair of his thick chin whiskers neatly groomed, and his silk cravat was tied with the sort of finesse that could only be achieved by a dedicated dandy.
Or a garish canary.
The whole of Clara’s self-restraint had to be mustered to keep her voice at a respectable volume, but not even that could prevent her gloved hands from balling into fists. “Do you presume to stalk me, Mr. Forrester?”
Mr. Forrester’s grin broadened, uncovering the schoolboy dimple at the corner of his mouth that had once thimblerigged her into believing him guileless. “Stalking is reserved for strangers. We have too much history for that, you and I.Watching out for youwould be a more accurate turn of phrase.” He leaned against the nearby pillar with the relaxed ease of a Sunday afternoon and spun a golden band around his left ring finger.
The one bearing an inscription that bound their names in noose-like scroll.
Clara’s mouth went dry. For what purpose had he resurrected that cursed ring from the grave?
“Though we’ve been parted these long months, Ihavebeen watching out for you, my dear, and it has grieved me to see you suffer. Shunned and stigmatized. Lacerated unjustly day in and day out by the cruel tongues of idle gossips.”
Tongues he’d set to wagging the day he sauntered into Mum’s birthday party, uninvited, to accuse her family of lunacy. Brandishing his knowledge of Lieutenant Harbinger’s letter, he’d announced to all their friends that Uncle Fritz had died in an asylum—a “kindhearted warning” for them to mind the company they kept. Poor Grand, honest man that he was, had refused to deny it, and overnight, Uncle Fritz hadgone from a war hero to a madman. Her family’s desire to keep their heartbreak private twisted into deliberate intent to conceal their inborn insanity.
Was the man so daft as to think she’d forgotten what he’d done?
Apparently so, for Mr. Forrester moved to her side now, brows knit together and hazel eyes agleam with the appearance of concern. “Won’t you reconsider my offer of marriage? Coming under the protection of my good name would surely snuff the flame of scandal surrounding your family.”
