“Lady Wyndam gave this to me at your father’s funeral. It’s a sort of support league for other widows. They have meetings, and I’ve been there once a week or so since your father died. It’s wonderful to be around other women who are going through the same thing that I am, and they’ve provided me all sorts of encouragement and support.”
“Wicked Widows’ League?” Natalia blinked. “Well, that’s wonderful. I had no idea such a thing existed. What kind of support do they offer?”
“All sorts of things...” Clarice thought back to the laughter and tears she’d shed with her new friends. Until she’d become part of the group, she’d had no idea that she could have those sorts of friendships with other women. She’d never trusted anyone except Natalia, but with the widows, she’d learned to be open and honest about her feelings, knowing they’d never judge her. “I hope it doesn’t bother you that I’ve been going there. I promise I’ve been very discreet.”
Natalia smiled gently and reached out to pat Clarice’s hand. “Of course, it doesn’t bother me. In fact, I’m thrilled for you.” She cleared her throat, seeming momentarily overcome with emotion. “You went through hell during your marriage to my father. I know he didn’t treat you well, and I’m so sorry. I want nothing more than to see you find someone to love.”
Clarice shook her head bitterly. “I don’t want love, Natalia. I just want a chance to be free. To do all the things I once imagined doing with my life. I want to travel and have a wonderful social circle filled with friends who share my interests.” She took a deep breath, stopping before mentioning the last thing, the thing she could never mention to Natalia.
I want a lover.
And not just any lover, but one in particular.
Roman St. James.
Although she hadn’t seen him since that strange encounter at the duke’s funeral, he’d been in her thoughts constantly. Why had he come? She’d somehow weathered her foolish behavior that day and couldn’t help but believe that Lady Wyndam had helped her with that. Ever since, she’d been waiting for this day, when it was finally acceptable to start seeing people again. Of course, she still wasn’t allowed to go to any big parties, out to the theater, or any of the Season’s events.
But she’d told the widows what she wanted, and they’d helped her come up with a daring plan. In fact, as soon as Natalia and Dylan left, she was going to have her coach take her to Matron Manor, the house the widows kept, both as a meeting place and a soft place to land when a widow had nowhere else to go. She prayed Roman would meet her there.
She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to find out if he still cared for her or if his actions at the duke’s funeral had been motivated by hatred. But if he still had any feelings for her at all, she intended to make him a proposition. One a hot-blooded man like Roman couldn’t possibly resist.
“I think that’s a lovely idea,” Natalia told her with a small smile. “I’m glad you’ve found a group of friends even during these dark days. I’ve been worried about you.”
Clarice sighed and fiddled with the jet beads at her throat. “No need to be worried. I’ve taken up gardening, read more books than I can count, and had plenty of time to devote to all my other interests. But you know me, I do love to be around other people. I greatly miss the excitement of the social whirl.”
Natalia shuddered dramatically. “I know you do, but I’m very glad to be done with that. I love the life Dylan and I have made for ourselves at Aldabaran.”
A real smile stretched Clarice’s lips, something that had become rarer and rarer as the months dragged on with nothing to excite her. “I’m very glad for you, darling. You’ve truly found something rare in your handsome captain.”
Not that Natalia and Dylan’s romance had been easy. Their relationship had been fraught with trouble in the beginning. But they’d cared for each other deeply. Clarice was certain that if Natalia had been unable to conceive, Dylan would have loved her anyway...
Shaking off the useless thought, Clarice brought her mind back to the matter at hand. She would never have the kind of life that Natalia did, never know what it was like to be loved or have children. But she could have pleasure, and she was determined that the rest of her life would be spent in the pursuit of it.
“Thank you for being so understanding. Most stepdaughters would insist that I observe the entire mourning period.”
“Well, I’d like to believe that I’m not most stepdaughters,” Natalia told her with a smile. “You’ve gone above and beyond your duties to my father. Now it’s time to start living for you.”
Clarice gave her stepdaughter a grateful glance. “That’s what I intend to do, my darling.”
Starting tonight.
ROMAN IDLY RAN THE engraved invitation he’d received a quarter of an hour ago through his fingertips, watching the gold leaf against the black background flicker in and out of sight. He rarely accepted invitations from the ton. Not that he received many. But he had a feeling this one was different.
Your presence is requested for dinner...
His gaze fell to the calendar on his desk, where he’d circled a date in a red pen.
Exactly eighteen months to the day had passed since the Duke of Clayton had died. Clarice was now in half-mourning.
The invitation wasn’t signed, which was strange in and of itself. Whoever had sent it obviously hadn’t wanted it intercepted and perhaps had even feared that Roman wouldn’t come. Was he a fool to believe that this had something to do with the duke’s beautiful, frustrating widow? Perhaps he was. But he intended to go and see for himself.
“You’re looking rather satisfied with yourself,” his cousin Collette said from the open doorway of his study.
He smiled, placing the invitation face down on his desk. “And you’re being rather nosey.”
In truth, it gladdened him that Collette took an interest in his life. When he’d first inherited the earldom, he’d been annoyed that among his responsibilities was his bluestocking cousin, whom he’d barely known.
To his great surprise, she’d proven to be a confidant and friend. He didn’t know how he’d endure it all without her. She’d have made a rather formidable earl herself, and it truly saddened him that her gender had taken her birthright from her.
