Chapter Nine #3
Clara made her dissent and displeasure known by her absence; he did not see her again until suppertime. He’d half expected her to keep to her rooms, but—knowing her as he did—he suspected that boredom had driven her out. She was far from a sedentary creature.
Dressed as she was in a pale-pink gown with tiers and layers of gossamer fabric, she looked deliciously lovely…
even when she did her best to ignore him.
Her dewy skin practically glowed in the firelight, and the way she wore her hair, as thick and dark as midnight, accentuated the graceful line of her neck and collarbone.
What he wouldn’t give to sink his teeth into that tender flesh and hear the noises he could coax from her.
Pearce cleared his throat in an effort to rein in his wayward thoughts and moved to assist Clara to her chair.
She said nothing.
“The cook took it upon herself to plan a special menu to welcome you to Edinburgh,” he said as the first course was brought out. The rich scent of chicken and leeks filled the room, bringing with it a deluge of memories of Pearce’s childhood.
She said nothing.
Once the soup was finished, a platter of smoked salmon was served, beautifully bright pink and mouthwateringly fragrant.
“Have you eaten salmon before? It is quite a treat.”
She picked at her fish and said nothing.
Jaw working, Pearce decided to try a different tactic.
“I didn’t know you were capable of being this quiet. Have pigs sprouted wings and taken to the sky, or should I be made aware of some other unbelievable occurrence as a harbinger of this anomaly?”
Clara dropped her utensil to the table with a clatter. “Does your rudeness know no bounds?” she snapped.
Pleased that he’d finally elicited a response, he lifted a hand to dismiss his staff from the room.
Once they had privacy, Pearce said gently, “I know you are still upset.”
Clara did not reply.
“Is it because you desire children so greatly?” he tried. “Or do you resent the surprise of it?”
“It’s only…” She growled and threw her napkin on the table.
“You cannot possibly know what it is like to be so helpless—to have so little say in your own life.” Pearce remained silent, willing her to continue.
“I always knew I would marry eventually, but that decision was taken away by you and Dori.” He thought it was safer that he did not mention the role her own careless actions had played in the event.
“I knew I would be a mother one day, but that possibility, too, has been removed from my life without my consent or an explanation. You are a man. You have the benefit of making all the decisions, and you have certainly done so without consulting me in the slightest—or even bothering to inquire as to whether or not I have an opinion.”
Pearce experienced the first inkling of guilt.
When he’d made his decision, he’d been set upon remaining a bachelor for the remainder of his days, and the choice impacted no one directly other than the cousin who would inherit the title when he passed.
If by some miracle he married, he’d never believed it would be in a hurried ceremony to a virgin who was totally ignorant of his decision.
As much as he refused to budge on his stance, he did feel sympathy for Clara.
She was correct that she’d so recently had so many choices stolen from her.
The least he could do was try to make amends for the part he had played.
Her lips parted in surprise when he reached out and covered her hand with his.
“I am sorry,” he said solemnly. “I know a great many decisions have been stolen from you, none of them small. Knowing your personality, I am certain it grates on you quite terribly.” Her mouth twitched at his assessment.
“While I cannot capitulate and give you what you desire, I hope it might be something you can learn to accept, and that we might live in peace and find our own happiness. In time.” He squeezed her hand.
“Now, I would like to move forward, starting by saying how lovely you look tonight.”
She gnawed on her lip. “Now you are trying to flatter me to return to my good graces.”
“First of all,” he began, sitting back in his chair, “I am unconvinced that I’ve ever truly been in your good graces, and I’m unsure I would know how to react if I were.
Second, I tell the truth. I’ve somehow managed to marry a stunning woman.
” Pearce’s heart thudded as the compliment slipped past his lips.
He’d refrained from offering such words to her for so long that his mouth nearly rebelled.
His muscles wanted to clamp down on the words and shove them back in where they belonged.
This marriage had given him something unexpected…
He had no reason to stop himself from saying such things to Clara.
He was free. He no longer had to guard his opinions close or mask them behind false contempt. It was undeniably thrilling.
Clara rolled her eyes to the ceiling, but an unwilling smile bloomed on her lips. “It is so foreign to hear compliments from your lips.”
“I have always found you beautiful, Clara; now, however, I am allowed to embrace and admit to those opinions.”
He grinned at her blush.