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Chapter Four
Clara spent a promising day planning the bathhouse visit. The progress was so exciting that she still felt buoyed late that evening. After finishing supper, she wrote a letter and started and abandoned other activities in an attempt to channel her energy.
But she couldn’t sit still. Cast aside was the book she tried; her abandoned embroidery hoop dangled precariously on the arm of the empty chair.
Her household was winding down, and most servants had retired to their chambers on the top floor. The world around was quiet, but her mind whirled, bandying about ideas.
Clara was pacing in her back parlor when the front doorbell rang.
She stopped cold.
She wasn’t expecting anyone, and it was too late for a social call.
Loudon, the butler, would answer the door. He was finishing up his tasks at the back of the house.
Her maid, Molly, entered with a fretful look, taking up a position by her side to wait. Clara placed a reassuring hand on her arm.
Loudon stopped to check her whereabouts wordlessly before continuing on to the front of the house.
The household was accustomed to a predictable routine, and tonight, that was broken. She and Molly waited in silence in the back parlor, eager to discover why.
Clara closed her eyes, turning her head, straining to hear Loudon converse with another man. She could neither make out their words nor recognize the other voice. They spoke for longer than she expected before the front door closed.
Loudon returned, his brows pinched. “My lady, I tried to send him away, but heinsistedon awaiting an answer.”
“Who?”
“It was the servant of a Mr. James Robertson. Mr. Robertson is in his carriage and wishes to speak with you.This evening.” He pronounced the last two words with particular disdain, the corners of his mouth curving downward.
Dumbfounded, Clara ignored his reaction, turning away to think.
James Robertson?
The man who’d barged in while visiting her brother a few weeks earlier?
Her heart raced. Why would he be here? It was utterly forbidden for him to visit her home!
“Did he state his purpose?”
“No. His man refused to say, my lady.”
Clara was speechless with dueling curiosity and confusion. She considered and rejected the possibility that some ill had befallen David. Mr. Robertson wouldn’t be the bearer of such news.
A small flame came to life, its fuel the anticipation of seeing that compelling man again. She tried to stamp it out.
Loudon and Molly stood like statues while she considered.
“He’s outside?Now? Tonight?”
“Yes, my lady.”
What could he want?
It had given her pause when her brother made no attempt to disown his role in the business during the confrontation with Mr. Robertson.
Was Mr. Robertson planning to blackmail David through her?
No. He’s here to see you.
