“Perhaps that is true,” she replied with a laugh. “Did you hear the commotion out front?”
Clara looked up and blinked. “What commotion?”
“Someone brought a baby. It was crying something awful. Some hapless servant, looking for the mother. Why they do not have a decent governess at home I do not understand. I would never leave my children with somebody who was not equipped to take care of them.”
A child. Clara hadn’t heard any such commotion. Who would bring a child to a ball? It was entirely unconscionable.
“I wonder if the mother has been found.”
“I do not know,” Evelyn said, “but I do hope so. Well, I did not mean to disturb your peace. I shall return to the ballroom. I just wanted to see that you were quite all right. You rushed off in a bit of a haste.”
“I am, thank you,” she said. The two squeezed hands, and then Evelyn left. Clara took a deep breath and stepped out of the alcove, readying herself to find her chaperone to tell her that she was not feeling well and wished to go home.
However, she had barely made it back into the hallway when a pair of hurried footsteps came her way. She turned and saw a young man in livery rushing down the hall, followed by one of the servants.
“I told you, you cannot—” the servant said, somewhat out of breath, for he seemed to have followed the other man for quite some time.
“Are you Lady Clara Hampshire?” the harried-looking man said. She nodded, her eyes fixed on the bundle in his arms. It was a baby. The very baby Evelyn had spoken about, and it was indeed crying.
“Good. I have come for you. This is yours.” He thrust the baby into her arms before she could so much as react.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “My baby? I have no?—”
The man leaned forward. “This baby is in terrible danger. Lady Arabella Ashland has sent me to place her into your trusted care. You must protect this baby. You must.”
“Arabella?” Her head spun at the sound of the name. Why would Arabella send a baby to her? It simply didn’t make any sense.
Before she could say another thing to the man, he was dashing down the hallway again, the servant looking at her then at the man before deciding to follow him. Clara stood there with a baby in her arms and her eyes wide. She looked down and noted that the baby had stopped crying. It was a tiny thing, perhaps only three months old, with round, red cheeks and bright blue eyes that were—were they like Arabella’s eyes? Was this Arabella’s child? Or was this merely her mind trying to make sense of things that made no sense whatsoever?
It couldn’t be. Arabella was in Italy. The two had not seen one another for nearly a year. Clara had departed for Scotland after Benjamin had so cruelly rejected her at his family’s behest. Arabella had visited her in the first month she had been there,but then she had left to travel in Italy with a dashing gentleman who was moon eyed over her and who wished to introduce her to his family there.
Now that the war was over, such privilege was once again available for those who could afford it, and Arabella could, thanks to Julian.
She looked up, searching for him. He would know what this was all about. Surely, he would know how this child was connected to Arabella. He was her cousin which meant it was likely he would know exactly who this child was and where it belonged.
She had no chance to think on the matter further because around her, people were beginning to stare. Whispers arose.
“Is that Lady Clara Hampshire? Is that her baby? Why would she bring her baby to a ball? That seems most?—”
“Is that why she was in Scotland all this time?”
“It would be just about the right amount of time,” another voice said. “Who is the father? Do you suppose it was that baronet who left her? That is quite the scandal.”
“It’s out of wedlock, surely.”
Clara could not believe her ears. This had to be wrong. There had to be a mistake. She had to set this right, announce this was not her child. Not her doing. But… the servant had said the baby wasin danger, and she could not let a little baby such as this fall into the wrong hands. But then again…
Goodness gracious. They all think that this baby is mine. My reputation will be utterly ruined. My mother will simply be at sixes and sevens. They will never let me leave the house again.
She cradled the baby closer to herself, unsure what to do, when suddenly a strong arm wrapped around her and pulled her to the left. She looked up and saw it was Julian. Again.
“Come with me,” he said quickly and quietly.
The two of them walked into a side room, and he shut the door. The last thing Clara saw was several faces belonging to nosy guests who had followed them. He shut the door quickly and turned to her.
“A man handed me the child and said it was in danger. This man said that the baby belongs to Arabella. Do you know anything of this?”
“No,” he said, “but I have just heard the same. I saw the man hand you the baby and then run away, so I dashed after him. I trapped him in a corner as he was leaving and forced him to tell me what he knew. The child is indeed Arabella’s, according to him. She seems to have run away and gone into hiding.”
