Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
They were engaged. Clementine sat on a settee before the unlit hearth in the back parlor that overlooked the terrace and stared down at the golden, diamond cluster ring that arrived just this morning.
The room was cool in the early hour, the fire yet to be lit, and pale daylight filtered through the tall windows, casting a soft glow over the polished furnishings.
The morning paper sat beside her, their engagement announcement and the declaration that they would be married once the banns were called was far more proper than how she’d spent the night before last.
She could not fathom what had come over her that she would be so bold as to allow herself to visit his club or walk about his private chambers without a by your leave.
Up until that night, she barely tolerated Lord William.
Worse, however, was the realization that the memory stirred something warm and unsettling low in her chest.
Whatever was wrong with her?
She stared down at the ring, rolling it around her finger and inspecting the cluster of stones.
It was true she had barely tolerated Lord William when they had first met.
Mr. Beaufort as well. Yet somehow, she was drawn to him at every event.
Drawn in a way that made little sense, as though her mind and her heart were at odds with one another.
“Sister, we need to plan your wedding,” Rosalind said as she and Angelica bustled into the room, several pieces of parchment in their hands and pencils each.
They looked like women about to go into battle, determined to conquer their cause.
The skirts of their gowns swished briskly as they entered, bringing with them a flurry of energy that clashed with Clementine’s quiet contemplation.
“There is time for this later, is there not? I’m not in the temperament this morning.
” In fact, she doubted she would ever be in the humor, something she’d always known would happen one day, but she had secretly hoped that it would take a Season or two to accomplish.
The idea of selecting flowers and gowns felt oddly hollow when her heart remained so uncertain.
Would Lord William expect her to give up her charity work? His brother certainly didn’t see it as a worthy pastime for a woman of her rank. Would his brother feel the same once they were married and a representation of his family? The thought made her stomach tighten with unease.
She reached for her cup of tea and took a fortifying sip.
Well, she didn’t care what he thought, him or his brother, she would do as she pleased, and he could accept it or not.
And if he did not, then what he didn’t know would not hurt him.
A flicker of defiance steadied her, even as uncertainty lingered beneath it.
“Lord William will be here soon. He’s meeting Ravensmere to sign the marriage agreement, and he’s asked to see you privately for a moment, so we’re short on time before we’re off to look at fabrics.
If you do not wish to attend, we can bring samples home for you and you may decide what suits you most,” Rosalind stated.
“Lord William is coming here this morning?”
“Yes,” Angelica said, a mischievous smile on her lips.
“And Rosalind has convinced Ravensmere that now you’re betrothed, you shall be able to spend ten minutes or so together to learn more about each other.
Although, I’m assuming after hearing the details of your rendezvous at Lord William’s club that you’re already more than familiar with his lordship? ”
Her teasing did little to ease Clementine’s growing nerves. Heat kissed her cheeks. “I’m not familiar with him at all, hence why I’m put out that I’m being made to marry the man. Nothing untoward happened at his club the other evening. I was merely wanting proof that he wasn’t a hypocrite.”
“A hypocrite?” Rosalind stated. “About what?”
Clementine waved her sister’s words aside.
“It does not signify now, not anymore, but alas, he’s not a hypocrite, or at least there was no evidence of such on the night I visited his place of work, and then, when we’re about to leave, Ravensmere appears and forces me into a betrothal with the man.
It's absurd, and I do not wish to marry him.” She paused, crossing her arms, not quite believing her own words.
“You do know that his brother, the marquess, was courting me. I would think you would both be more than pleased that I became a marchioness, where I’ll now be a lower rank than what I was born. ”
Angelica shook her head, quickly meeting Rosalind’s eyes.
“Lord Hartwell wasn’t for you, whether he was courting you or not.
There is something about him that few find honorable, and if he were courting you, it would be unlikely due to love.
He’s not that kind of gentleman to form such sentiments, not from what I know of him. ”
“I doubt he’d even know how to love,” Rosalind stated, agreeing with Angelica.
“A shame, but his brother, a man many know little about is spoken highly of. I think you will find Lord William much more suited to your disposition, since he too seems to have a generous heart. You did meet him at The Haven after all.” Rosalind paused.
“His life doesn’t revolve around the ton, and that will suit you better. ”
Rosalind’s confidence seemed far greater than Clementine’s, but she would be the judge of that.
After discussing her tastes and joining her for tea, both Rosalind and Angelica left for their shopping expedition.
Clementine waited in the parlor. She had heard their butler admit Lord William around the same time her sisters departed, and it wouldn’t be long before he called.
The house seemed quieter now, the earlier bustle replaced by a tense anticipation.
She stood and walked to a window that overlooked the back garden, watching as the afternoon light kissed the flowers in bloom.
She spied their elderly gardener going about the beds and cutting some of the flowers to be displayed in the house.
The scent of damp earth and blossoms drifted faintly through the opened windows, grounding her in the moment.
The door to the parlor closed, and she didn’t need to turn to know who had joined her.
The hair on her arms prickled, and she took a calming breath, hating that her heart kicked up a beat at the thought of seeing William.
Her body betraying her, quickening in a way she could neither control nor explain.
Probably because he vexed her so.
“Good afternoon, Lady Clementine.” He came to stand beside her, looking out on the garden also. “Is there something outside that’s of great importance that you’ll not greet me, or meet my eye?”
She sighed and turned to face him. “You cannot think that this outcome is what either of us wish. Can you not convince Ravensmere to see sense? That we do not suit, nor in truth really tolerate each other. This marriage will never work.” Even as she spoke, a small, traitorous part of her wondered if that were entirely true.
“The announcement has been made, and we were caught alone. There is nothing left for it, even if we both may have wished for different outcomes.”
His words stung, yet they were the truth. Still, a little part of her had hoped he would have tried to alleviate her fears, tried to persuade her that not all was lost. That there was a chance for them. That he might have wanted this—wanted her—even a little.
He glanced down at her hand, and a small smile twisted his lips. “I see you’re wearing the ring I sent over. It was my grandmothers on my mother’s side. I hope you like it.”
She looked down and clasped the ring on her finger.
“It’s beautiful, thank you. And I do not mean to sound ungrateful that you’ve saved my reputation, I merely saw it as pointless when there were only three of us who knew I was at your club.
And none of those present would blurt such information to the ton. ”
He nodded and met her gaze. “The ball this evening. I received a note from Lady Carrisford that she would like to make a toast to us both. I agreed, I thought it may persuade those who have their suspicions regarding our union that all is as it should be.”
“Considering I wasn’t being courted by you publicly, this is probably a sensible move.
” She sighed, bit her lip, unsure if she could voice her next words.
“When we’re married, where shall we live?
Will it be at the club? Or your ancestral home in Mayfair?
” The question carried more weight than she let on.
She wasn’t sure she wished to live above a business.
Nor did she particularly wish to live with his brother until they found a home that suited them both.
“I have already sent instructions for my house on Brook Street to be opened and prepared for us. It’ll be ready by the time we’re married.”
Relief poured through her at the announcement. “I’m sorry I made you take me to the club, that this decision by me has forced your hand.”
He nodded, his lips pursing into a displeased line. “I’m sorry too, but you doubted my word, and now we’re engaged. There is no point in apologizing. What is done is done.”
His tone was measured, yet beneath it lingered something colder—something unresolved. “You’re angry with me.” She could see it in his eyes, hear the disappointment in his voice. “I didn’t know Ravensmere had seen me leave here. I’m sorry, truly.”
“Next time, may you believe a gentleman’s word. I’m not a liar.”
“Well, I hardly know you to know if that were true or not.”
He narrowed his eyes, and she could see he wished to say more, but did not.
“Alas, it does not matter now if I was telling the truth or not. I was pleased to confirm that I indeed do not run a disreputable establishment. However, we’re now betrothed and will have to make the best of the situation that neither of us wished for.
I did not want a wife, and you did not desire me as a husband.
Still, we will be married.” The finality of his words settled heavily between them.
Nerves pooled in Clementine’s stomach at his cold and blunt statement.
“What kind of marriage shall we have then? Is it to be unfriendly and unfeeling? I know that we didn’t start off the best of friends, but surely you do not dislike me so that we cannot at least try to get along.
” She hated the note of vulnerability that slipped into her voice or that he’d become aware of her fears.
He stared at her, a muscle working at his temple.
Was he truly so conflicted about their union?
Well, of course, he would be. He’d been more than honest about what he wanted in life.
Marriage had not been on his agenda and yet, here they were, betrothed because of something she insisted upon.
What a fool she’d been, and now he would loathe her forever.
Any chance she had at finding a love match was moot.
The realization pressed upon her chest, tight and unyielding.
“I will not be cruel and unkind to you, Lady Clementine, but I will continue to do as I please. Just as I wish for you to as well. You may continue your volunteering at The Haven, so long as you’re home before nightfall.
I shall do my husbandly duties should you wish for a family, but otherwise, friendship is all I can offer. I expect that is enough.”
It shall have to be enough, she supposed.
There was little choice she had in the matter.
Still, being able to work at The Haven, continue her help with those less fortunate than her was better than the alternative of being asked to remain in Mayfair or return to the country before the Season end, where she would rarely see her family.
It was not the love match she had once dreamed of—but it was not the worse outcome she could have fallen into either.
“It shall be enough, thank you.” What else was there to say? She couldn’t very well demand more, ask for him to try to make the marriage better than what it was clearly going to be. Her foolishness had landed them in this predicament, and she ought to be happy the consequence wasn’t worse.
“I shall leave you now and see you at the Carrisford ball this evening, as planned.”
She nodded, and before she could respond, he dipped his head and kissed her, his lips brushing over hers so suddenly, so quickly that she didn’t have time to react, to indulge in the feel of him. The contact was fleeting, yet it sent a sharp, unexpected warmth through her.
He pulled back almost immediately, turned and strode from the room, the slamming of the front door following him.
Clementine slumped onto the settee and touched her lips.
The featherlight brush of mouths had left her lips tingling.
As though her body had taken note of something her mind had yet to understand.
Her first kiss and one with a man she barely knew, or had particularly liked for that matter.
Up until now, at least. Her stomach clenched delightfully. Perhaps that was already beginning to change.