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With a quick nod, he followed Clara from the room. They made their way up the grand stair to the second floor and then down the hall until they could no longer be seen from the foyer. Ralph stopped, reaching for Clara’s arm. “Clara. What’s wrong?”
She turned to him, swallowing, her eyes welling with tears. “I’m not sure my father will support our match.”
He’d suspected as much. He pulled her in for a quick hug, his eyes squeezing shut. “No matter what, Clara, I’ll love you forever.”
She hugged him back, holding him as though she’d never let go. “Me too.”
“No.” He shook his head. “My future was always suspect, but yours…” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “You should marry. Have a family.”
She gave him a gentle smile. “I will. In four years’ time I will be of age, and I have a small inheritance from my grandmother. We’ll marry then, if we have to.”
He blinked in surprise. She’d wait four years for him? “But Clara…”
She covered his mouth with one of her fingers. “If you mean to convince me that I should marry another, you’ll have to first withdraw your assertion that you love me. And even then…”
Ralph’s heart swelled in his chest. Determination was not a characteristic that Clara lacked. He loved that about her. “So we’re both committed to one another no matter how long it takes.”
“That’s right.” She hugged his again. “Which is why you should leave your door unlocked.”
He stilled. Last night had been one thing, but he only had so much control and to have her in his bed again… “Clara.”
“Don’t Clara me,” she said, giving his shoulder several taps. “You’ll be my husband either way. I plan to use this night to its fullest. Who knows when we’ll have a chance like this again?”
The logic was difficult to argue. Then again, did he really wish to? She pulled him down the hall, opening a door at the end. “Sleep well, Mister Fitzroy,” she said with a little wink. “I’ll have a bath brought up for you.”
And then she was gone. But he’d hardly had a chance to survey the well-appointed room with its damask curtains when a knock sounded at the door. Mr. Stanton stood on the other side, his stately mask firmly in place on his face. “Baron Winchester would like a word.”
“Lead the way,” Ralph said with a small grimace. He had an idea of what he faced with the baron and he was certain it was nothing good.
The baron stood in his study, staring into the fire. Ralph stepped into the room, the door closing quietly behind him.
“Good evening, Mister Fitzroy,” the baron said, reaching out a hand to Ralph.
He gave a short bow before he shook. “My lord.”
“My son tells me you may or may not be made an earl.”
“True,” he answered, stepping closer.
“But that you abandoned your investigation in order to see Clara home,” the baron added, turning away from the fire toward Ralph.
“Also true.”
“Did it occur to you that the title might have been more important to Clara’s future?” the other man asked and Ralph ceased his forward progress. They were moving to the heart of the matter very quickly, a point that Ralph appreciated.
“Kinross strung Clara on for years as he acted in his own interests rather than hers.”
“And?” the baron asked.
“And, I might have won the title but lost your daughter’s affection,” Ralph answered honestly.
“Her affection means little without her hand.”
Ralph shook his head. “I’d rather her heart first and then her hand.”
Baron Winchester’s jaw hardened. “What if it is one or the other?”
“Then I choose her heart,” he answered honestly. “I fully understand that you’ll not support my suit. But Clara has changed my life. She’s taught me that some people transcend judgment and prejudice and I will be forever indebted to her.”
