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“The Viscount Ware and his brother are the Bushy Hero?” her father asked, his voice dripping with incredulity.
Clara nearly huffed. That’s what her father took from the story? “Their father was terrible. I think they wanted to prove how good they were.”
Her father shook his head. “Still the danger. And Her Majesty actually sent Mister Fitzroy to investigate Kinross?”
“An investigation he abandoned to help see us home, and good thing too. We would have been here sooner but we were attacked along the road.”
“Attacked!” their father cried. “By whom?”
“Highwaymen,” Clara said, sitting up straighter. “Ralph saved us.”
“I can see why you’re infatuated with the man,” Father added as his gaze swept over her.
Irritation prickled over her skin. “I’m not infatuated.”
“Clearly you are,” her father replied. “It’s exactly like with Kinross.”
“It’s nothing like Kinross.” She stood, straightening her shoulders. “I was a girl then. I’m a woman now and I know my heart.”
“You’re stubborn,” her father replied, raising a finger. “You’ll hold on to these feelings well past the point of it being healthy.”
Clara stared at him, knowing that he was judging her for her prior feelings for Kinross but unable to articulate why this time was different. She swallowed down a lump. She had to try. “My girlhood infatuation with Kinross was, until recently, a one-sided infatuation based on fantasy and…” Words escaped her. “The fact that it lasted so long is due to my very persistent nature.”
“Truer words…” Marcus mumbled.
She ignored him. “My love of Mister Fitzroy—”
“Love,” her father cried. “Don’t be silly.”
“Is based on mutual affection and understanding and it is many times stronger and it will last the whole of my life. If you deny his suit, know that I shall never care for another.”
“Surely—” her father started but she raised her hand.
“Never.” She pulled her spine straighter. “I won’t marry.”
“Clara.” Father took a half step toward her.
“Good thing you have an inheritance from Grandmama,” Marcus added and their father shot him a withering glare, but relief rushed through Clara with those words. She knew Marcus had told her that information in this moment on purpose. It weakened their father’s position and gave her a way forward with Ralph if her father denied his suit now, and for that she was so grateful.
“On the bright side, I’ll be able to be here for Mother.” Words she meant. But she noted her father’s wince.
“That would break her heart.”
“Mine too,” she answered softly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve slept little. I’d like to see our guests settled and then retire.” She didn’t wait for an answer as she turned and fled the room.
Ralph looked at Clara’s drawn face and winced. She’d joined them in the sitting room, but one glance and he knew all was not well. “What’s happened?”
Her face relaxed into a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “The surgeon has removed a large lump from my mother. It seems as though she’ll make a recovery.”
Priscilla and Wyatt gave a cheer, but he could still see the tension that lined her shoulders.
“We can return home,” Priscilla offered. “Since the news is good.”
Clara shook her head, glancing at Ralph. “Stay.”
Priscilla nodded. “All right. It was an exhausting journey. Some sleep will be good for all of us.”
“Mister Stanton will show you to your room,” Clara said to Priscilla and Wyatt, then she looked at Ralph, his heart rising into his throat. “I’ll show you to yours.”
