Chapter Thirteen
Clarice, dressed in a lovely pink taffeta evening gown, waited in the parlor for Samuel’s arrival.
Feeling nervous, she stood by the window, looking out at the street.
When Samuel’s carriage pulled up, her uneasiness grew.
It should have subsided once he arrived, but thanks to her no-good father, it didn’t.
She had no idea how she would bring up the affair with Samuel.
While she awaited his entrance, she poured sherry into two crystal-stemmed glasses and set them on the table in front of the settee. She needed the fortified wine to calm the storm churning inside her.
“The Duke of Stanton,” a footman announced.
“Please have a seat. I took the liberty of pouring us a drink. I hope sherry is acceptable.”
Samuel’s eyes followed her every move, and once she sank down onto the dark green velvet settee, he joined her.
He picked up one of the wine glasses and handed it to her.
“I believe you could use this. I heard about your father’s visit.
” She took the glass from his hand and took a sip, her eyes widening at his knowledge of her afternoon visitor.
He picked up his glass and drained half of it. “That is good. Thank you.”
They both turned toward each other at the same time. Clarice giggled nervously, and Samuel chuckled. “Perhaps we should get the discussion about my father’s visit over with so we can relax and enjoy the evening,” Clarice said as she took another sip, then set the glass down on the table.
“What did he say to you?” Samuel asked, setting his now-empty glass down and taking both her hands. “And keep in mind that he cornered me at White’s and shared several shocking tales with me.”
Clarice opened her mouth, then closed it. She cleared her throat and said, “I see. So he told you about the affair. Do you believe him?”
“I want to believe he’s lying.”
“Except,” she prodded.
He sighed. “When your father told me, my first reaction was that it was a lie. My father and your mother would never participate in an affair and hurt the people they loved most. Then I remembered several times when I came upon the two of them alone. At the time I had no reason to suspect anything between them. Thinking back now and picturing the circumstances of them in a room alone with the door closed and the two of them on a settee together looking flushed, I think I believe your father. But I had no notion of it until today. I had no idea my father was having an affair with your mother.”
“Perhaps you could talk to your servants who were in residence then. Maybe one of them saw something and could corroborate my father’s accusations.”
“It’s not necessary.” He swiped his hand through his hair. “The more I remember little details here and there, the more I’m convinced it’s true.”
“Now I understand why my father acted so irrationally and why my mother retreated to her rooms. I thought it was because of me.”
“My father was not the same after that day. But I don’t believe my mother ever knew.
She worried about my father’s health. I’m not certain she would have been so concerned if she had known.
She did appear lost without your mother’s friendship.
” Samuel released her hands, pulled a starched white handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and handed it to her.
“It’s so sad, really. I think my father and your mother must have loved each other deeply. ”
“Thank you.” Clarice took the handkerchief and dabbed at her tears. “There’s more. What happened between you and my father? There’s something else, isn’t there?”
Samuel stood and moved to look out the same window she had when she saw his carriage pull up. “I often wondered if you knew what happened after.”
“I don’t.”
“I realize that, now. But still, I can’t believe you never caught wind of it. Chesterfield really did keep you isolated.”
“He did.”
Turning around, Samuel leaned against the window, his sad eyes looking right into hers.
“You remember the day I proposed and we made love by the pond? The day we thought our fathers were negotiating your marriage contract? The day your father took you away from me? I didn’t take the news well when my father told me, and I went to your house that night to take you away to Gretna Green. ”
Hearing his words, more tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away.
“Your father and several footmen were lying in wait for me at the servants’ entrance. Your father had a gun and threatened that if I ever came back or tried to see you, he’d put a bullet between my eyes. And to prove he was serious, he shot me in the upper arm.”
“What?” Clarice yelled as she stood and went to him, fighting the need to run her hands all over him to convince herself he was unharmed. Silly, since all that happened seven years ago. “How did I not notice the scar last night?”
“Maybe because you were distracted. Anyway, I also got a lung infection and almost died. It took months before I was strong enough to leave the house. By then, you had married Chesterfield.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart sounded in her ears. “I am so sorry for what my father did. Clearly, he lost his mind.”
“He seemed sane to me. He took his vengeance against my father out on me.” His arms went around her, and he kissed the top of her head. “He threatened me today with some seriously damaging stuff. Did he threaten you as well?”
Hearing his words chilled her to the bone.
“He told me that if I continue seeing you, when Chesterfield’s heir arrives, he would contact him.
Between the two of them, they would marry me off to someone of my father’s choosing.
” She scoffed. “I’m of age and have my own money, so they have no control over who I court or marry.
” She swallowed. “At least I believe so. I’m not willing to take unnecessary risks in that quarter, though.
My father would find a way, even go so far as to kidnap me, I’m sure. ”
“What will you do?” The desolation in his voice pierced her heart.
“I don’t know. Tell me what he warned you about?” Clarice stepped back from Samuel so she could see his handsome face. One marred now by sadness, frustration, and anger.
He went on to explain the uncomfortable conversation he had with her father. “Whether people believe any of that nonsense or accusations, my reputation will be damaged or even ruined.”
“He is a monster,” Clarice breathed out. “What will you do?”
Samuel inhaled and exhaled with a groan. “The racing circuit is starting. I’ll be gone for a while. It’ll give us time to think and plan how to move forward with our future . . . together.” He paused. “That is, if you’ll have me?”
She threw herself into her arms. “Yes. I’ll have you.”
“I should go. No doubt your father has someone watching your house.” His strong arms wrapped around her, and she buried her head in his chest, holding on tight. Afraid she wouldn’t feel the safety and comfort of his arms again for a long time, if ever.
“Look at me,” he murmured.
Tilting her head up, her eyes met his somber, dark-gray ones, and she couldn’t breathe.
When she gasped for air, he moved in and kissed her deeply.
Her fingers curled into his lapels, and she held on tight.
Groaning, he tore his lips away and stepped back.
“I would take you to Gretna Green now if I thought your father wouldn’t interfere.
But I think we both know he would, and it would cause a disaster for us.
We need to plan and think. Once my horses have completed their races, we will be in a better position to face your father and secure our future.
Meanwhile, if you need me for anything, I will be staying with Baron and Baroness Ramsbury in Newmarket.
Don’t hesitate to send word.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers.
“I love you, before, now, and forever. Remember my words when you believe all hope is lost. Trust me, we will prevail and come out the victor.”
He left without saying another word, giving her an additional kiss, or looking longingly at her.
Clarice left the room and addressed the first footman she saw.
“My guest has left. Please have a tray sent up to my rooms.” Once inside her chambers, she sank onto the chaise longue, wrapped her arms around her aching stomach, and let the tears come again.
Never in her wildest imagination, when she found out something had transpired between her father and Samuel, had she expected to learn that her father shot him.
Samuel had always been like a son to her father.
How could someone go from being a decent, caring father and friend to appearing as a monster so easily?
During private moments alone with her mother, had her father been mean and careless with her?
Had his kind, caring self only been a facade while in public?
Had Samuel’s father ever witnessed her father’s bad temper and behavior?
Would he have stayed friends with him if he had?
Clarice wanted to understand how the affair had started.
Were there any signs of their love and affection for each other out in the open?
She didn’t believe they had ever treated each other with anything more than friendship and respect.
Had her father been so cold and cruel that her mother had sought comfort from the duke, and it had turned into physical desire and then love?
“Oh dear,” she sighed. She could go in circles forever trying to find the answers. But the truth of the matter was that she would never know. The truth was buried with Samuel’s father and her lovely mother, Countess Portsmouth.
“Enter,” Clarice said as a knock sounded on her door.
“My lady,” Mrs. Shelley said as she entered. “I’ve brought your dinner tray.”
“Thank you. Please put it on the dressing table.” Clarice wasn’t sure anymore if she could stomach eating. “That will be all for tonight, Mrs. Shelley.”
“Yes, my lady,” she said as she curtsied and left, quietly shutting the door behind her.
Clarice curled up on the chaise longue, reached down by her feet for the lightweight throw, and covered herself with it, closing her tired, burning eyes.
If only she could go back to when her mother was alive and talk to her, discover all her secrets, so she could understand her past. She wanted to help her mother overcome her heartbreak and melancholy.
However, back then she’d been dealing with her own heartbreak and was petrified about her future with a husband chosen by her father.
The Marquess of Chesterfield was a complicated man.
Due to his advanced age, he expected everyone except dukes and duchesses to obey his commands.
From what she gathered from several of their rare conversations, he was a powerful force in Parliament and had fought against other Parliament members over any reform that could benefit the lower classes. He was truly an abomination.
Memories flooded her mind of her years being married to him.
Even though she was the daughter of an earl, he believed she was far beneath him.
When he found out she wasn’t pure on their wedding night, he threw a fit.
Later, when he discovered she was with child, Samuel’s child, he forced her to drink vile potions in the hope that she would miscarry.
Those poisonous potions didn’t work. The son she carried wanted to be born, and born he was.
During those many months, while she was increasing, Chesterfield kept her locked inside her chambers.
The only people she saw were the housekeeper and her maid.
Both women were mean right down to their souls.
Fortunately for her, the delivery had been an easy one.
Chesterfield refused to risk a scandal, so no midwife or physician was called to the townhouse.
The housekeeper and maid attended to her themselves.
Secretly, she knew Chesterfield hoped the baby would die in childbirth. Possibly herself as well.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and soaked the small pillow she rested her head on.
The moment the baby was born and the umbilical cord was cut, the housekeeper had whisked him away from the room.
Clarice had gotten a quick glimpse at the baby to confirm it was a boy before the housekeeper swaddled him in a blanket and took him away.
She swallowed the sobs trying to escape.
It never mattered how much she had cried, prayed, and wished for her son; no one would tell her what happened to him.
For all she knew, Chesterfield had killed him and he was buried in the garden.
Her lungs rattled as a loud, heart-wrenching groan tore from the depths of her soul. If he were alive, how old would he be? A little older than six. And if he lived, where was he?
Maybe he had been sent to a monastery. Perhaps he lived with a loving couple who adored him.
Right before she drifted into a sorrowful sleep, she wondered how she would tell Samuel. And would he blame her for the baby’s fate?