Chapter 1 #2
Claire and Alexandra had been estranged for far too long now, and, really, it wasn’t so much that Claire was avoiding the confrontation, she simply had too much to do.
It didn’t matter how sensible one could be; when one was marrying a prince, all thought of austerity flew out the window.
There was a certain standard that must be kept, regardless of one’s personal sensibilities.
After all, a prince was a future king, and a future king must have a wedding in accordance with his station.
But at least she had a kindred spirit in the daily struggle, because her fiancé had not been raised to take his seat upon a throne.
If indeed it could be possible, Ian MacEwen was even less concerned with proprieties than she was.
Unfortunately, they hadn’t only themselves to think of anymore.
Until now, there had been so much to do that Claire hadn’t had a moment to stop and think how the scandal with Alexandra’s father must have affected her dearest friend.
No doubt Lexie was still brooding. She was so much like Ben, and now more than ever, she believed those two were meant for each other.
For months now, Claire had hoped Lexie would come of her own accord. She had been more than prepared to allow her the time she needed to come to terms with the entire sordid affair, but it was becoming very apparent that she would not do so, and time was growing short.
To begin with, some tiny part of Claire had insisted that Alexandra be the one to come and offer support.
But really, beyond apologies for something Alexandra had had no control over, she was bound to be feeling ashamed, guilty and perhaps even unwelcome in Claire’s home.
It was only natural. And, having realized as much, she had resolved to put her good friend’s mind and heart at ease.
Alas, one week turned into two, and two into six, and six into months—all the while Claire had far too many people tugging at her skirts.
Do this, do that, see to this, see to that—and all “right now.”
Now, after all this time, Alexandra couldn’t possibly understand that Claire didn’t blame her, because she couldn’t read minds, and sadly, Claire hadn’t had the wherewithal to see past her own whirlwind affairs to help make it easier for the poor dear to bear.
To be sure, some small part of her also dreaded seeing Alexandra. How could she face Lexie knowing full well that Lexie would know exactly what her odious father intended?
Even now, the memory of the ordeal—the offensive place Lord Huntington had taken her—was enough to put a tremble on her lips.
If she never saw that man again so long as she lived, that would be too soon.
But as far as Lexie was concerned, it was now or never.
In less than two months’ time Claire would be departing London, perhaps forever, and she might never forgive herself if she didn’t find some way to make things right with her oldest and dearest friend.
What was more, she couldn’t abandon Lexie to spend another holiday alone in that terrible house.
Long, long before the scandal with her father, something had transpired between mother and daughter to damage their relationship.
Lady Eveline might never return to London, but neither would she invite her daughter to Shropshire, and Alexandra was clearly not the sort to press herself upon others.
And meanwhile, until his recent incarceration, Lexie’s odious father had spent nearly every holiday abroad, leaving his only daughter to manage his estate—such as it was, because Lexie never had much say over what transpired in that house.
Essentially, she had been a tenant herself, achingly alone in the absence of her embittered parents.
But there it was… someone must rise above these circumstances, and so it, seemed, that person must be Claire.
Love was the catalyst for her own happiness, and she felt that if only she could put Ben and Alexandra together, they would find a way to work it out.
Those two had always been flirtatious, even when neither would admit it.
As different as they were, Claire had even wondered if Alexandra befriended her only to be close to Ben.
And Ben, well… for all that he was a fanciable bachelor, he didn’t seem to have eyes for anyone but Lexie.
Oh, but he liked to talk a good game—so did Lexie—but the proof of the plum pudding was in the eating.
Claire adored Lexie. She loved Ben. Two more deserving people she had never known.
If only she had her druthers, she would leave both with a hopeful future.
But so, it seemed, this schedule would be the death of her; she was rushing toward yet another appointment when Ryo returned from his errand, giving Claire a nod as he walked in the door.
“You delivered it?”
“Hai,” he said.
“And she accepted?”
Her fiancé’s newly acquired manservant shrugged. “I cannot presume to say, okusama.”
He gave her a reverent nod, placing his hands behind his back, the slight gesture a heartfelt bow.
Claire liked him. Though ofttimes he was a walking riddle, and sometimes his deference was odd, she enjoyed his wit.
And, besides, she recognized a loyal servant when she met one.
He might have served Ian’s brother loyally, but his new assignment didn’t appear to be the least bit of a conflict.
His duty was to the family he served, and to the royal house of Meridian, to which Claire would soon be attached.
He was ever present, and yet invisible besides.
“Of course,” said Claire, her shoulders drooping, only belatedly realizing that, yes, of course, he would have given her invitation to a butler.
Alexandra would never, ever presume to answer her own door, and she would be less inclined now since she could never be entirely sure it wasn’t a correspondent from the Times.
Hopefully, that scandal with her father would soon die down, and in the meantime, Claire had an urgent appointment to keep with her dressmaker.
She’d kept the woman from Courtauld’s waiting too long already, only to be certain her special “holiday decorations” were off and away.
However, if she didn’t hurry back upstairs, the lady would lose patience and depart, and, according to the Duchess of Kent, there was simply no one else available to deliver a wedding gown befitting a royal bride, not to mention the bridesmaids dresses she required.
“Thank you,” she said. “Please tell my brother I will join him directly.”
“Yes, okusama,” he said, but she turned once more when she was halfway up the stairs. “Oh!” she said. “And Ryo… please, please don’t tell anyone where I sent you—particularly not my brother.”
“Yes, okusama,” he said, once again, only this time with the barest hint of a smile…
as though he knew what she was up to, and nevertheless, Claire knew he would keep her confidence.
The man was a godsend. Already once he’d saved her life, and knowing how much she’d come to count on him, Ian had lent him to her service until after the wedding.
She simply didn’t know what she would do without him.
“Thank you,” she said, and flew up the stairs.