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Climbing into her carriage with Violet House as the stated destination, she knew a measure of liberty, along with a premonition that more freedom was to follow. Whatever the consequences, it was inconceivable to her now that she could retreat back to her cage.
Stella herself answered the door when she arrived at Violet House. “Clara!”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said with relief, then turned to wave off her carriage. She’d been prepared to proceed to Stella’s residence if needed.
Stella didn’t so much as blink as she looked from Clara to her impeccably appointed conveyance. After standing back to admit her, Stella waited serenely for an indication of what was happening.
“Apologies if I’m interrupting your work. I need to speak with you once you have a moment.” Clara didn’t hide her sense of urgency.
After a pause, Stella nodded. “I was about to sit down with Gussie. I’ll go and tell her that I’ll return later. The Pyles just left for the market. Shall we meet in the storeroom?”
“Yes,” Clara agreed, grateful for Stella’s perceptiveness and wisdom. She required privacy for the discussion.
Clara sat at the table in the center of the basement storeroom and found herself speechless when Stella joined her. Where to begin?
Stella spoke first. “Wasn’t the ball last night? How did your plan go?”
“Oh, Stella! I only made matters worse,” Clara admitted starkly. “I have no way of fixing it.”
Stella’s smooth forehead creased for once, and she took Clara’s hand. As Clara’s story spilled out, Stella’s kind expression didn’t change. She merely wrapped both of her hands around Clara’s.
“Does James know of the child?”
She shook her head. “I’ll tell him tonight.”
“Invite him to go with you to Anterleigh,” Stella urged quietly.
Clara opened her mouth to explain the obvious, that it wasn’t possible, it wasutterlyimpossible…the servants…her brother…
On a shuddering sigh, she nodded. “Iwill. I’ll invite him.”
“My fervent wish for you is that all will be well between you and your brother when he returns to London.” Stella’s blue eyes were loving, but showed neither hope nor doubt. “Whatever happens, worry not about Violet House. All will be well here.”
“We didn’t realize how useful it would be for me to transfer sums to you for the LLS, or how soon we’d turn to them. Make use of them as you see fit, Stella.”
She nodded. “You’ll be married soon. Know that I’ll safeguard the funds for the LLS—now and in the future. No man shall access them through me.”
Clara squeezed her hand. “I have no doubt.”
“I won’t have you worrying about us while you’re gone. Perhaps itistime to make gradual arrangements for a future away from my current vocation, starting with you knowing that I’ll be at Violet House as much as needed while you’re at Anterleigh.”
“That’s a tremendous reassurance. Thank you, Stella. In my absence, use the funds that I transferred to you as you see fit.”
She shook her head. “No more than needed. I’m happy for you, Clara. I believe James to be good—to you, and for you. But if we’re wrong, or anything happens, you aren’t without means. You aren’t without friends.”
“That won’t be necessary, I hope,” she said, trying to ease Stella’s burden.
Her voice was threaded with steel forged in a crucible of suffering. “Hope is for the desperate, Clara. You’re not desperate, you’re prepared. I truly think that James will be glad about the child, and I wish you every happiness. But if he surprises us, we’ll be ready. I’ve disappeared before. I’d do it again—for you.”
Clara fought the urge to deny the need for this. It was almost unthinkable that she could be so wrong about James, yet how many women upstairs in their beds at Violet House had been disappointed by men they’d trusted? How many had been pregnant with far greater concerns?
“Thank you, Stella,” she said simply.
They both had tears in their eyes when Clara left. Embracing her tightly, Stella whispered to her fiercely. “Your child will be most fortunate to have you as her mother.”
“From the moment I’ve known, I couldn’t see this as a disaster. I know others would say it is. But I’m so happy, Stella. As I hope James will be.”
“I’ll see you when you return to London—perhaps as Mrs. Robertson!”
