Page 21 of Tutoring the Charming Earl

But what could she say?

Her mind was a blank. All she could think about was that kiss, and that was hardly a topic she wished to discuss on paper. Instead, she picked up the letters again and shuffled through them, picking her aunt’s to address first. Her aunt was a kind woman, but they did not share the same intimacy that she did with her sister. There would be no temptation to pour her wretched, confused heart out in a letter to her aunt.

She skimmed over her aunt’s delicate handwriting. She’d read it twice already so she knew what it entailed. A tedious recounting of the party they’d hosted last month, along with some gossip from her side of the family.

Her eyes caught on one paragraph in particular. And then there was this bit.

Eliza said that The Claremont Finishing School for Young Ladies has an opening. Your name was mentioned, though I told her you seemed quite content with your role as companion.

Content. Was she truly content? She’d told her family she was, but only because she had not wanted them to worry. And while she truly did adore the Dowager, so much so she’d come to think of her as her own aunt these past few months—she would not say that she was content.

Possibly because there was no future for her, and while she could forget that in the moment, at times like this it was impossible to ignore. She was stuck in a strange sort of purgatory, living nicely but on the edges of someone else’s family.

Not a stranger, but she did not belong there, either.

You are my responsibility now, Clara.

Bittersweet pain rippled through her once again. It was kind of him to say—even kinder because he genuinely seemed to believe it.

Strange, serious, kindhearted man. One kiss and he believed she was his problem now.

Truly, she did not know whether to laugh or cry.

She sniffed. Crying never did anyone any good. It had been a moment of weakness last night that she’d allowed sentimentality to win out over good sense. It had just been seeing the Earl of Davenport with his wife, that was all. They’d been the very picture of marital bliss. They had the sort of camaraderie and partnership one dreamed of in a marriage, and the way they’d looked at one another...well, their love was on full display for all to see.

A wave of sadness had hit her without warning. Seeing them had been a sharp reminder of all she would not have. She’d taken it for granted that her future would include a husband and children, a home and a family.

Now that seemed a distant dream.

She had a family, and that family was her sister, her aunt, her cousins. It was pointless to grieve for what one had never known and never had. What she ought to do was focus on the family she had, the people she needed to care for.

Her gaze was fixed on the name of the finishing school. It wasn’t the first time she’d contemplated the idea, although previously she’d dismissed it because the school was so far away from her sister. Not to mention, she did not love the idea of being a teacher at a school like that. She’d heard stories of what their lives were like. All work, and no freedom.

Maybe freedom was too much to ask for at this juncture, but she thought not. The Dowager teased her about her one-woman ‘school of charm’ as she put it, but what if…

She blinked rapidly as the idea came into fruition, fully formed and absurdly appealing.

What if she opened her own school? A school for gently bred ladies who might need to learn the finer points of etiquette and propriety. Girls who did not want to be sent away, but who wished to remain in London.

What if she finally said good riddance to her dream of a good marriage and a large family, and embraced the silver lining that came with her new status.

She might not be considered eligible for a good marriage and she was surely pitied, but she could be independent. It would not be easy, of course, but she had the connections and the goodwill of most of society.

She’d run from the looks of pity in the past, but perhaps it was time to swallow her pride and accept whatever charity and favors her sympathetic plight might secure.

The notion of accepting charity had her fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat, shuffling and arranging her correspondence with restless fingers.

No, the thought of appealing to the kindness of strangers held little appeal, but that discomfort paled in comparison to the excitement of her new dream. A life lived on her own terms. Perhaps if she were successful enough with the daughters of the ton, she could even employ her services to those who needed it most. Young ladies like her sister who had neither the dowry nor the good name to make a good match. Ladies on the fringe, without options.

For the first time in nearly a year, Clara felt hope. Excitement, even. For the first time in forever she felt as though perhaps she might have a purpose.

The only problem was—it meant squashing her silly dreams of sharing a life with Alex once and for all.

For the best, really. This infatuation she’d developed had grown into an obsession of sorts. Unhealthy, especially since there was no hope for it.

Friendship, that was the most she could hope for from the Earl of Charmian, and even that would be diminished once he married another and started a family.

No, it was best she leave his company now. The sooner the better.