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“But that’s preposterous!”
“Of course it is!” Sophia said with a grin. “Really, Clara, you must learn right away that you cannot put any stock in the gossip of the ton. By tomorrow they will have found some other woman’s business to become fixated on, and no one will even remember you.”
Clara crossed her arms. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely!” Sophia put a finger to her chin in thought, then amended her prediction slightly: “Well, by next week, at least.”
“I tell you, Sophia, I just don’t know what to make of this whole business,” Clara said as she slumped in her chair. “I can clean a room or haggle for a bread roll, but I don’t know the first thing about this high society I’m suddenly expected to survive in.”
The leering faces of Helena and Judith flew into her mind once more, and a wave of tears loomed over her. “I dare say I wonder if I wouldn’t rather have just stayed a maid in your house. At least I understood that.”
Sophia leaned over from her seat and wrapped her arms around her friend, who sniffled helplessly in her embrace. “Don’t you talk like that, Clara. And don’t worry—you have me to help you learn all the ins and outs of our society.”
Clara sniffed. “Do you really mean it?”
“Without a doubt!” Sophia answered, smiling. “With my help, you won’t just survive the ton, you’ll thrive in it. Nothing shall stand in the way of your rise in society.”
The two young women fell into silence once more, and Clara took a moment to glance around her unfamiliar surroundings. The library was a cosy space, full of dark wood and sunlight, and dominated by massive shelves stuffed with all manner of colourful volumes. She was gratified to see so many books were kept in the St. George household, though most of them had not so much as had their pages cut open. Clara had often wished she could spend her days wrapped up in a book, though the dearth of reading material and the punishing work schedule at the Fitzroy household had made this fantasy particularly futile.
I should be so happy, she told herself. I have more money than I had ever dreamed of, a vast house, and my dear friend by my side. So why do I still feel I might be washed away in a flood of tears?
“What’s wrong, Clara?” Sophia asked through a pitying smile, offering a handkerchief from her sleeve. Clara took it gratefully and dabbed away her tears. “I’m sure you must be so overwhelmed, poor dear.”
“No,” Clara answered. “Well, yes, I am. But it’s more than that. It’s just…I feel at any moment I might be thrown out of here as an intruder! I met my half-sisters yesterday. Oh, Sophia, they seemed so full of venom towards me!”
Sophia patted Clara on the shoulder once more. “I’m afraid that is entirely within character for Helena and Judith St. George, from what little I have seen of them. But you have to remember, Clara, they have just had rather a shock of their own! To suddenly find out their father conceived an illegitimate child, and to have that child come to live in their house…”
Clara sighed, feeling her tears finally begin to dry up. “I know you are right. This must be quite confusing for them, as well. Perhaps I am being unfair to them.”
“From what I have heard, it sounds as though you are being more than fair by even thinking of their perspective this long. Be patient—before long you can be just as unfair to them as you like.” With a roguish smile and a wink, Sophia brushed an errant lock of hair away from Clara’s face. “Besides, it cannot be all that bad. What of the Duke and his guardian?”
She paused to think about her two brief interactions with these men. “The Duke seems not to care about me one way or another. I suppose that Mr Morton is friendly enough, if a bit serious.” Clara blushed, thinking of the handsome smile he gave her when she came to breakfast that morning. “Frankly, I am not sure what to make of him.”
“Edward Morton, isn’t it? The handsome young man I saw earlier?” Sophia asked. She stood from her seat and began pacing as she chewed the matter over—Sophia could never stand to sit still for long.
“I certainly know the man by reputation,” she said cautiously, and Clara leaned forward with interest. “The Morton family does not live far from here. I know they’re immensely wealthy, though I do not know the source of their fortune. If he’s the one I’ve heard of, he and his father were very close to the late Duke St. George.”
“Is that why he was made guardian, then?” Clara asked. “For that matter, what exactly is a guardian, Sophia?”
Sophia shrugged. “I am not entirely sure myself. It sounds as though he’s in charge of the Duke’s education, though the Duke surely has his own tutors. Or it could be he takes care of the family finances, though I imagine the St. Georges have a solicitor for such things.”
“Mr Finch,” said Clara with a gentle smile.
“Then I suppose Mr Morton is in charge of all of it. Like a regent, if you like, until the Duke comes of age, but without gaining any of the prestige of the family’s title.”
“It sounds as though he has a great deal to do, then.”
With a nod, Sophia began looking through the books on the nearest shelf. “Considering all that, I do not think you should entirely count on him to take care of you or fight off your sisters.”
“I suppose not,” Clara said with trepidation looming over her once again. But her thoughts turned rather quickly from the gloom of her own situation to that of Mr Morton.
All that time and energy spent taking care of a family that is not even his…and he seems to be such a kind and handsome young man, too. I wonder if he ever intends to take any time for himself? Perhaps he too suffers from not knowing what it is he desires.
