Chapter 15
They got into the carriage to return to London the next day. This time, instead of stopping at an inn, they drove all the way through. They had left at six in the morning and arrived back in London late that evening.
They made their way into the house in a sluggish manner. David was crying, and Clara looked exasperated, but Mrs. Holt was right there, stepping out from the second carriage and helping Clara into the house.
“The little one will be hungry,” she said.
Julian wondered at times if Mrs. Holt suspected that something was amiss.
He’d been glad that she’d been hired as quickly as she had, but the truth was, he did not know much about her.
All he knew was that Clara had hired her and brought her into the household.
How she’d managed to find her in less than a day, he hadn’t figured out yet.
In fact, it had slipped his mind entirely.
In any case, she looked like a natural to him, but he had no experience with children either.
For someone who actually had children, someone who actually knew how to care for a child, did they look like amateurs?
Or did they look like two people who had been raising a little baby together for several months? He simply could not be sure.
For now, he had to trust that she believed their story, and even if she didn’t, that she was not going to give them up.
“You have a caller,” Richmond said once he stepped inside.
“A caller at this hour?”
“He has been here some time. I told him that you were not expected back until very late, but he insisted on waiting.”
“All will be well,” he said. “Who is the caller, Richmond?”
“The Duke of Sinclair,” Richmond said, and instantly his shoulders dropped with relief. He saw that Clara closed her eyes and exhaled, equally relieved.
But what was Nathaniel doing here? It was most peculiar.
“He is in the drawing room. I took it upon myself to see him comfortable. I assumed that is what you would want.”
What he wanted was for his best friend not to be in the drawing room right at this very minute.
Furthermore, what he wanted was to go to his chamber and sleep immediately.
But that was not to be. He took a deep breath and watched as Clara made her way up the stairs along with Mrs. Holt, who was holding her own daughter on her hip.
The little girl was about eighteen months old from what he had gathered.
Then he made his way into the drawing room.
“Nathaniel,” he said. “Has Evelyn finally seen sense and thrown you out of the house?” he asked with as much vigor as he could muster at this late hour.
Fortunately, he had had years and years of experience of acting in good cheer when really he wasn’t.
Unfortunately, Nathaniel had known him all of those years and knew exactly when he was genuinely cheerful and when he was merely putting on a good show.
Right now, he was definitely doing the latter.
“I need answers,” Nathaniel demanded at once. “What is this? I hear that you are married to Lady Clara? What sort of folly is this? At the ball, I had to remind you who she was.”
“I always knew who she was,” he said defensively although it was true that momentarily at the ball he had not quite been able to place her.
“And now you are supposedly married to her, and you have a child. Really, were you in your cups that deeply at the ball? I barely lost sight of you for three quarters of an hour. You can’t have gotten that drunk, surely. That would be a record even for you.”
“Please, there is nothing to be upset about,” Julian said and fell into a chair.
A loud groan escaped him because his back hurt, his tailbone hurt, and even his legs hurt from sitting in the carriage for so long.
They should have really stopped at another posting inn, but he hadn’t wanted to repeat the awkward experience from their journey there.
Sleeping on the floor hadn’t been the most comfortable experience, and having Clara in the bed a few steps away had added another dimension to the situation.
“Nothing to be upset about? I think my dearest friend might have lost his mind. I dare say that is something to be upset about. Now explain.” He sat down and crossed his legs, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “Well?”
“Clara and I will host a ball here in the next week or two. Then we will explain everything to the ton.”
“Well, that is jolly good for the ton. But I am here now. I have known you since you were barely out of short coats. I am probably the only man who has ever seen you shed a tear. I stood next to you at your father’s funeral, your mother’s funeral, and your aunt’s funeral.
Now I will not be fobbed off with platitudes.
Tell me the truth, and tell it to me now. ”
Julian wasn’t sure exactly why he did what he did.
Perhaps it was fatigue. Perhaps it was a lifelong friendship between him and Nathaniel.
Perhaps it was the fact that he knew perfectly well that Clara had already told Helena the truth, so why shouldn’t he tell his best friend?
Whatever the reason, he leaned back and told him the whole story.
He watched as Nathaniel’s face fell further and further, his jaw opening more and more, until he sat before him like a man who had entirely lost command over his own features.
“So you actually are married now,” he said. “And thanks to your friendly vicar, you have been for a year, should anyone ask.”
“It would be very helpful if you assisted us in this pretense by saying that you knew.”
“That I knew…” Nathaniel looked at him as though he had sprouted a second and perhaps a third head.
“My goodness. You have lost every last bit of sense you ever possessed, haven’t you?”
“I think that is perhaps a fair assessment, yes. But may I point out that I am doing all of this to protect Arabella and Clara. Clara would have been utterly ruined. Everybody already thought that the baby was hers. After her broken engagement and the failed courtship before that, her reputation never would have recovered.”
“So you swiftly made her your wife. And yet I thought you never wanted to get married. You announced it rather emphatically not days ago at the ball.”
“Yes, well, I already told you why I did it. I cannot take it back now.”
“No, you cannot. And obviously, we will have to do something about all of this. First, we must find Arabella. No, first we must find out who this gentleman was. Then we have to find out where she is, and where he is. I will speak to the others.”
“No,” Julian said. “Nobody else can know. I suspect Gideon already knows because Clara told Helena, so you may speak to Gideon if you like but not to anybody else. I want to keep this as small as possible.”
“You do not even trust our friends?”
“It is not that I do not trust our friends. I do. But they are very passionate. They will want to do whatever they can to help, and they will reach out to whomever they are able which, in turn, could cause problems. If one of them reaches out to the wrong person, it could tip off the man who is after Arabella and the child. We need to keep this as small as possible.”
Nathaniel thought about this for a moment, then nodded. “You are right. We shall have to. I will meet with Gideon and speak to him. We each have trusted people in our circles who will be able to help us.” He paused and tipped his head to one side. “There is something else that has caught my eye.”
“Your eye? And pray, what is that?”
His friend chuckled and grinned. “The way that you just spoke about Clara. There is a twinkle in your eye when you speak of her. You genuinely care for her, do you not?”
“Of course, I care for her. She is Arabella’s friend. I have known her since she was a girl.”
“No, that is not what I mean. There is something more there. You care for her in the way a gentleman ought to care about a lady.”
“I do not,” he said. Although in the back of his mind, images of himself crouching down and selecting wildflowers to make a bouquet for her flashed before him.
Likewise, his right index finger ached because he had cut it while trying to create the perfect arrangement.
But that didn’t mean that he cared for her, did it?
That only meant that he wanted to make this all as easy as possible for her.
She had, after all, lost far more than he had.
She had wanted a real marriage, a real husband, and children.
He would have been perfectly happy never getting married. Not after his last almost disastrous trip down the aisle. But he had taken that from her. Or more accurately, this man had taken it from her.
“Whatever the case may be,” he said, “Clara needs protection, and I do not need you making your clever observations right now.”
“Fine,” Nathaniel replied and raised both hands theatrically. “I shall keep my opinion to myself.”
“I would be eternally grateful.”
Nathaniel leaned back and shrugged. Exactly thirty seconds passed before he cleared his throat. “But I am telling you. There is a twinkle.”