Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
“Have things become so routine already?” Clara asked as she noticed a butler setting out an empty vase, ready to be filled with flowers.
“It is Monday,” Mary replied. Gerald clung to his routine like a monk.
Every Monday he called by with flowers, usually a different type every time.
Last week he brought an exotic bunch that he’d sourced from Julian.
They were always pretty, always thoughtful, and yet Clara could not enjoy them properly
Every gesture had to be doubted. Every word had to be studied. Every look was suspicious.
Their private moments led her to believe that he might feel something more.
In the maze, they had almost lost control of themselves.
One of her steadfast rules prevented kissing, and yet they had been standing close.
His eyes had closed, his lips puckered, and Clara had not been inclined to turn away.
With his hand on her cheek, she felt warm and giddy, and there was a curious part of her that wanted to know what it felt like to kiss him, to be held in his arms as a lover and feel the soaring romance that Aunt Lydia had always vaunted in the books she read.
But the interruption had killed the moment, and for the best.
Clara pressed her fingers against her temples, unsure why her resolve crumbled so easily when Gerald was present.
The situation had been laid bare for her.
There was no need to get confused, and yet here she was, wrestling with her emotions, wondering if her heart was still her own, or if it now belonged to him.
The sooner Eleanor began courting and enough time passed for the ton to lose interest in the returning Duke, the better.
She wanted to be done with this. She wanted to be done with him.
Clara was tempted to pick up the vase and throw it against the wall, watching it smash into a thousand pieces.
Would he still bring flowers if there was nothing to hold them?
Would he still try to kiss a woman who was no longer standing there?
Clara’s heart froze as Gerald’s carriage pulled up outside the house, and the door was opened. She rose stiffly as he entered the room, but became intrigued as he held a wicker basket instead of his usual bouquet. The lid bumped, as though something inside was moving around.
“What is in the box. Gerald?” Alfred said, peering over his shoulder.
“A gift. I know you are accustomed to receiving flowers, Clara, but I came upon something on one of my tenants’ farms that I thought might bring joy to your life, and to the children as well.
” Gerald bent down and placed the box on the floor.
Before he could open the lid himself, it flew open, and the contents burst out.
Alfred cried out, startled, while Clara smiled.
It was a puppy.
A shaggy, grey puppy with wide, eager eyes and a pink tongue that lolled out. He darted about the room, seeking to explore everything, and stopped before Clara.
“Why, hello,” she said, bending down to pet the dog. It licked her hand and cocked its head, as though it was returning her kind words. “What’s its name?”
“I thought the children might like to name it,” Gerald said, “If you think they would appreciate the animal.”
“Oh, they’ll appreciate it alright. Although I shall not allow them to name it Clara,” she said, lifting her gaze to glance at him.
He grinned. Clara’s fingers disappeared in the soft fur as she moved her fingers around the dog’s head, learning that it particularly liked being stroked beneath its chin.
“You say you found it on one of your farms?”
“Yes, it was a muddy little thing. The farmer believes that his dog must have had a litter in secret. He had no desire to keep this one, but said it must be a survivor. Shall we take it to the children now?” he asked.
In truth, Clara wanted to keep her distance from Gerald because it was becoming dangerous to be close to him. However, she was not selfish enough to deny the children this pleasure, nor to prevent Gerald from receiving the gratitude he deserved for making this gesture.
He might have broken a promise, but this was an earnest, good-natured gesture and she could not find any reason to decline.
They arrived at the orphanage. Agatha was already there, watching the children.
Clara and Gerald climbed out of the wagon.
Gerald intended to repeat the announcement, and so the dog was in the box again.
However, this time the dog was too excited to remain hidden.
Clara had just invited the children to gather round when Gerald opened his mouth, but before he uttered a word, the dog leaped out and stared at the children.
Sophia recoiled, but the others were gleeful.
“Be careful. He might be timid,” Clara said.
However, the children were already rushing forward, eager to pet the dog.
Thankfully, the dog seemed to revel in this attention, and its tail wagged furiously as it received a lot of love.
It twisted its head and its body, enjoying the feeling of the children’s hands roaming over its fur, and then it rolled onto its back and revealed its belly, kicking its legs in the air.
“He’s not going to hurt you Sophia; he’s lovely!” Emily cried out, grabbing Sophia’s arm and pulling her forward, forcing her to pet the dog before Sophia could do anything to resist. When she realized that Emily was right, a wide grin broke out on Sophia’s face.
“Well, I think it’s safe to say that he’s going to be happy here,” Gerald said.
Teddy looked up and gasped.
“Wait, you mean he’s staying?”
“That was the intention, unless you don’t think he would fit in with the four of you. Perhaps I should take him back home with me? After all, when I found him, he did follow me for a time,” Gerald said.
“No, he can stay here. We’ll look after him,” Teddy said, the words rushing out of his mouth in a quick torrent. He placed his arm protectively over the dog, as though he was strong enough to prevent anyone from taking him away.
Gerald chuckled.
“You don’t have to worry, Teddy; the dog can stay.
But you children must look after him correctly.
Take him for walks, play with him, and most importantly, do not give him too many treats.
” Clara pointed her finger in the air and adopted the stern tone she used exclusively for the children and, on occasion, Gerald.
“What’s his name?” Oliver asked, squinting.
“He’s your dog. You should all decide on a name,” Gerald said.
Clara wasn’t entirely sure how this was going to go, given the children could rarely agree on anything, especially Teddy and Emily.
“As long as it isn’t Clara,” Clara said.
“No, that would be silly. It’s a boy, and besides, we can’t name the dog the same as our boat,” Teddy said.
“We should call him Duke,” Emily suggested.
“Yes, because it followed the Duke home!” Teddy exclaimed. It seemed as though Teddy and Emily had found some common ground after all; they were both enamored by the Duke. “What do you think, Duke? Do you like that?”
The dog rolled around onto its paws and yapped loudly, its tail still wagging, its head lifted high into the air. It jumped up a little and this delighted the children. Duke started to chase them.
“Why don’t you show Duke the grounds,” Clara said. They all rushed outside, the sounds of gleeful laughter and excited barks fading as they went into the garden.
“I’m glad they all seem happy about the arrangement,” Gerald said. Clara turned to face him, smiling softly.
“It was a kind gesture, thank you. I’m glad that you were thinking of them.”
Gerald chuckled. “How could I not? They’re wonderful children. I don’t quite know how they all managed to end up here, but I suppose not everyone is meant to be parents.”
“No, I suppose not,” Clara said. Gerald moved to the window and looked at the children playing with the dog.
Sophia was still a little timid, but the others had thrown themselves into play.
Oliver found a stick and was throwing it into the air.
Duke ran after it, scampering back and forth, bringing the stick back to the children.
Clara observed the scene, and especially the content smile upon Gerald’s face.
When he reflected on his words, she realized that while some people became parents even though they were ill-suited to the task, other people who would make good parents were not blessed with children, for one reason or another.
It struck her that Gerald was that type of man.
He did not have to go out of his way to bring Duke to the children, and he could have left the task to Clara. However, he had wanted to see the looks on their faces for himself and the way he watched them now… it was as though he cared for them like they were his own.
For a long time, she thought the best judge of a person was how they treated children.
When she was younger, she met many people who her parents considered charming but were dismissive of her and never indulged her curiosities.
They treated her like a nuisance instead of a person, as though age was the only qualification of respect.
Others, however, had spoken to her politely and treated her words as valuable things, not willing to dismiss her ideas and feelings simply because she was a child.
Clara still felt the same way now. Oh, how it would have been easier to dismiss Gerald if he had been dismissive of the children. How easy it would have been to hate him if he looked down his nose at them and ignored them.
But he didn’t.
He cared, just like she did.
Gerald turned his head.
“While we have a moment alone, there is something we must discuss. I wish to apologize for my conduct in the maze. I am not sure what came over me. There was a moment where I lost control of myself and almost broke your sacred rule. I hope you do not hold it against me, or do not think me a monster. I would never seek to make you feel uncomfortable, nor broach the limits of propriety. It shall never happen again. I hope this can go some way to easing the tension between us, for I have felt some unease since that party.”
Clara swallowed a lump in her throat. It felt as hard as a stone.
So he did think it was a mistake, then. When he said it would never happen again, she imagined it was how a prisoner must feel when led to a dungeon, wrapping weak fingers around cold iron bars, knowing that nothing would ever change.
She had allowed herself to believe in the impossible, and it was time to regain control and composure.
Clara flicked her hair back and clasped her hands.
“I appreciate the apology, but there was really no need to address the situation. The maze was a straining experience, and we must put it behind us. As far as I’m concerned, it never happened, and no rules were broken,” she said.
The rules might not have been broken. Her composure was another thing entirely. And her heart was allowed no voice in the matter.