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“Yes, I believe your father’s taken possession of it?” Evie drawled, an eyebrow raised in question as she turned toward the twins.
The girls’ mouths thinned as they nodded in affirmation. “I’ve tried pleading with him, but he won’t budge. He doesn’t care that the book doesn’t belong to him or even Clara, and I don’t know where he’s hidden it. We’ve searched his study to no avail,” Sarah explained.
“Quite hypocritical of him, if you ask me.” Since the earl had confiscated the lurid novel and their chance meeting at the bookshop, he’d filled Clara’s thoughts night and day—a fact she’d never share with her friends. The more she’d considered it, the more confident she became in her belief that Lord Covington had no reason to judge them by their reading material when he most likely had performed the actions outlined inHer Dark Earlwith numerous women of theton.
By day, Clara worked herself into a lather over the hypocrisy.
But by night…
Her dreams chose to highlight certain chapters with Lord Covington and herself as the leading couple reenacting wicked but glorious scenes. She’d never awoken so hot and aching as she did the past few days, and it was all the earl’s fault.
“I agree. Just because he’s a man doesn’t mean he’s allowed to read T.L. Kenny, and we’re not.” Evie tapped the fan attached to her wrist against her lips, gaze narrowing. “The days of a man dictating what I can and cannot do are behind me. Do we think if I approached him and asked for its return, he’d listen? A widow has certain freedoms, after all.”
“There’s no need for you to reveal yourself as the owner yet. I’ll figure out a plan.” Clara’s stomach knotted at the thought of Evie approaching Lord Covington. Widows were allowed a certain leeway in Society—weren’t bound by strict dictates to protect their virtue. What if Lord Covington took advantage?
She’d heard rumors of his affairs with other widows, and while Evie was overly plump like Clara, she remained quite beautiful—a Titian goddess. Who knew what sort of bargain the earl might make in exchange for Evie’s book?
No, she couldn’t let her friend get involved. For Evie’s protection. And for Clara’s peace of mind.
“What sort of plan could you possibly concoct when you’re forbidden from Covington Hall?” Mary asked. “Mrs. Castle intervening with Father might be exactly the push he needs to return the book.”
Strands of music filled the ballroom as another dance started, and Sarah and Mary’s governess appeared to usher them along to two waiting gentlemen before she could reply. Evie being ‘the push’ the earl needed was exactly what Clara feared.
But why she feared it was a mystery.
“I should continue mingling myself, I suppose.” Evie sighed and stared around the room with resignation before someone caught her eye. “Oh, there’s Bryony! I didn’t realize she’d attend tonight. Would you care to join me? We can say hello together. Then perhaps I could introduce you to some eligible bachelors, since Mrs. Lee clearly isn’t doing her duty,”
Clara shook her head. “You know as well as I the fate which lies before me. Meeting a young man of interest won’t change things.” Evie dropped a comforting hand to her arm, understanding all too well the reality of being married off to an elderly husband. She endured three years as the wife of Mr. Wexley Castle until he died of apoplexy four years ago.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” With her parting promise hanging in the air, Evie disappeared into a wave of guests that seemed to swell upon each intake of breath. Floral perfumes mixed with the faint scent of smoke emanating from the melting wax candles of the chandeliers overhead, and the combination didn’t aid the discomfort Clara felt from the rising heat of the room.
Flushed and on the verge of a headache, she searched for an escape route and found French doors opening to a darkened balcony. Hurried steps brought her to the exit in quick fashion as she slipped deeper into the evening shadows. Following the stone balustrade away from the party to a quieter spot, Clara leaned on the cool stone railing and tipped her head back to study the midnight sky above.
If only I could wish upon a star and have all of my troubles melt away.
But as much as she adored losing herself in imaginary worlds, in her heart Clara was a realist and knew nothing would save her from the life her parents planned for her—especially desperate wishes on stars.
CHAPTER FIVE
Hugh’s gaze tracked Miss Netherfield’s path as she strolled the perimeter of the room alone, and once again, he wondered where her chaperone was hiding. Any young buck could steal Miss Netherfield away with no one the wiser. So, naturally, it was his responsibility to look after the curvy minx. Frustrated, and perplexed by the emotion, Hugh followed her outside to a balcony overlooking the gardens, where she promptly wilted against the balustrade, a sense of melancholy shimmering in the air.
This is dangerous. You can’t be alone with an unwed miss.
Yet that didn’t stop Hugh’s long legs from striding forward. Didn’t stop him from standing entirely too close to the off-limits woman.
“Need a bit of fresh air?” he asked, sliding behind her despite the warnings ringing in his head. She jerked in surprise as her shaky hands clenched the stone guardrail for stability.
“Lord Covington, what are you doing out here? Did you follow me?” He detected a note of excitement, but surely he was mistaken.
“Indeed… I thought it’d be prudent to ward off any unpleasant advances considering your chaperone is nowhere to be found.”
“Mrs. Lee felt lightheaded and sat down to rest. However, I’m more than capable of handling myself, my lord. You needn’t worry and can return to the ball. I’d hate for you to ruin your evening by a misplaced sense of protecting my honor.”
The rich scent of cinnamon wafted from her as he edged closer, a gentle breeze carrying the aroma like ships on the sea harboring barrels of exotic spices. One lone curl curved over her exposed shoulder, and a sudden ache to trace the same path with his tongue burgeoned in his chest.
You mustn’t.
But reason found no foothold in his thoughts, his eyes fixated on Miss Netherfield’s pale skin glowing in the moonlight. “On the contrary, I fear we’ve both made an error. Like a wolf circling the lamb, protecting your honor is the exact opposite of what I have in mind.” Unable to resist temptation any longer, Hugh closed the gap between their bodies, pushing her into the chilled marble, while his hand snaked over the aforementioned shoulder to wrap around her delicate neck.
