Chapter Twelve
“But, Clementine, it’s almost time for callers.” Mama’s expression was decidedly put out that her only daughter wanted to abandon her. “Mr. and Mrs. Hodgson will be calling on us and—”
“I know, Mama, and I’m truly sorry. It’s just that my friend, Meredith Appleyard, is newly widowed and unable to go out into society. I should like to visit her. She needs me, Mama,” Clem implored her mother.
Mama could not refuse. “Oh, my dear. That is a truly Christian attitude and one I cannot deny you.”
“Please convey my regards to your friends.”
“I will, but don’t be late for dinner. We have a guest who will be joining us for the one hundredth anniversary celebrations in St James’s Park this evening.”
Clem paused in the middle of drawing on her gloves. “Who is coming to dinner?”
But before Mama could answer, a “Whoa!” and the sound of a carriage pulling up in front of the house sent Clem hurrying toward the kitchen. Avoiding Lord Hetherington was not her primary goal today, but it was a decided bonus.
“I’ll just ask Cook for some biscuits to take to Meredith. Goodbye, Mama.”
As she hurried out of sight, Clem wondered if her white lie was truly bad. In truth, it wasn’t actually a lie—more of a mild exaggeration. While it was true Meredith was very sad at the loss of her husband, she was not prostrate with grief as Clem had implied to Mama.
As she rode in the carriage to Meredith’s home, Clem wondered, not for the first time, about her friend’s married life.
Why, if it were Will who had died, Clem could not imagine how she would go on living.
She was still musing on love and loss as she knocked on Merry’s door, carefully avoiding the wreath that hung on the knocker.
“Thank goodness you have come, Clementine.” Dressed in unrelieved black, Meredith’s smile was nonetheless genuinely welcoming when Clem was shown into the parlor. The curtains were drawn, and the clock had been stilled; the effect was of someone holding their breath while life went on without them.
Was that what it was like when someone you loved passed away? Did life flow on around you with no regard that yours had forever changed? How could a person step back into such a different life? Would they even want to?
Did Merry want to?
If Will should die, part of her would die with him. She knew it with the bone-deep certainty of someone deeply in love.
Once they were both seated, Merry ordered tea and cake, and Clem handed over the biscuits she had brought. “In case your cook was overwhelmed by the number of callers.”
Merry gestured for the maid who had followed them into the room to deal with the biscuits and then turned to Clem. “That was thoughtful. Thank you.”
As the door closed behind the maid, Clem asked, “How are you, Merry? What you are suffering is unimaginable. Is it truly awful?” She couldn’t imagine a world without Will, but Merry looked composed.
“Don’t think too harshly of me for not being more distraught. I am truly sad, but managing to do what needs to be done, although it would be easier if I were able to return to my office.”
“You want to return to work?”
“I need to. Work offers a distraction. It keeps my mind from thinking too much about Frederick, but it is also necessary. My shipping line won’t run itself.”
“I should not be able to function were I in your shoes. Oh, I am sorry. I did not mean to suggest there is anything wrong with what you are . . . how you are . . . oh, gosh, Merry, I’m sorry.”
“Do not think twice about it. You have the loving example of your parents before you, and if I am not mistaken, I believe you are in love. Tell me about him.”
“I am, but do you truly wish to hear? Won’t my happiness rub salt into your poor, wounded heart?”
“Overly dramatic, Clem, but yes, I want to hear. The distraction will be welcome.”
“Well, he has not been in London for some time, and I am fending off unwanted attention. Are you sure—”
“I’m fine. Tell me more details. Your travails give me something to think about other than the loss of a kind and decent man and keeping my business operating.”
Clem tipped her head to one side and looked curiously at her friend.
She had never given much thought to Merry’s marriage or her relationship with her husband, Frederick, assuming it was much like most others.
Merry had seemed content, but she spoke of her deceased husband with the affection of a friend, not a lover.
“You don’t speak of love, only kindness. Was yours not a loving marriage?”
Merry was quiet for some moments before she met Clem’s gaze. “We respected and cared about each other, but it was more like friendship than love. Certainly not the kind I suspect you wish for; the kind shared by your parents. I believe that sort of love is like a unicorn—rare and beautiful.”
Rare and beautiful, just like what she felt for Will, and he for her. She met Merry’s gaze and leaned forward, almost whispering so she didn’t tempt fate. “I have found the unicorn.”
Merry smiled and took hold of Clem’s near hand. “Then hang on to it for dear life. But now I see your problem more clearly. The gentleman pursuing you is not the one with whom you are in love.”
“You are correct in your assumption. Will has been out of the country for several months. No one knows we are in love.” The rumor Rufus had dropped into society’s conversations would do for now.
Besides, Clem had guessed that Will was overseas doing something for the regent, but did it matter who was keeping them apart?
“Will?” Merry tapped her lips with a single finger and frowned. “Ah, could your Will be William Ravenshoe by any chance? He is my competition and an excellent businessman.”
“How on earth could you guess that?”
Merry’s smile was gentle but secretive. “I have my sources. And your friend Lavinia happened to mention her cousin had formed an attachment with her dearest friend when I saw her recently. Before my husband—” She sniffed and pulled out a lacy handkerchief from her pocket.
“I’m sorry, I should not inflict my tears on you. ”
The slip of emotion revealed Merry’s genuine care for her husband.
Clem slipped across the space between them and sank to her knees, clasping Merry’s free hand in hers.
“I think you should let them flow. Don’t be stoic.
Even if he wasn’t the love of your life, you shared ten years of that life with him. You need to mourn him.”
“You are right,” Merry said and dabbed her eyes, “but do not be alarmed. I will not fall into a storm of weeping.”
They sat quietly for several minutes until Clem heard the maid returning with the tea trolley. She sat back in her seat, and Merry slipped her handkerchief away.
“Will there be anything else, ma’am?” the maid asked after setting the tea tray on the table.
“No, thank you, Lucy.”
Lucy bobbed a curtsy and left the room.
Merry seemed fully recovered as she turned back to Clem. “I wonder if you could hire a man to follow your suitor and discover if there is anything he would not wish to be made public.”
“That’s clever. What made you think of that?” Clem asked.
Merry shrugged and poured the tea. “Perhaps a recent game of chess I played with my husband. He was in an odd mood one night, and I felt like I was chasing his queen all over the board.”
“Who won?”
“He did that time. His tactics were unusual, not at all like any game I had played before. I believe those unexpected moves were the key to his success. I could not anticipate what he would do in that game, whereas more often than not, I won against him.”
“Then perhaps there is a lesson in that.” Clem picked up her tea and sipped the aromatic Chinese brew favored by her friend.
Merry raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Don’t be predictable?”
“Indeed.”
Several hours later, Clem was seated across the table from Rufus at an intimate family gathering.
Silver gleamed, reflecting the many candles lighting the dining room as Clem tried to catch Rufus’s eye across the dining table. Her mother’s matchmaking endeavors had been focused on Lord Hetherington, so why had her parents invited Rufus to an early dinner?
Not that Clem was complaining about the change of marital quarry.
Over the past week, she’d had an uneasy feeling each time she danced with her would-be suitor that he was about to propose.
Something about him felt wrong. Was it because the rumor about the baron that she’d hinted at to her parents had become real in her mind?
For all she knew, Rufus might not have discovered anything that would disqualify Lord Hetherington as her husband. The baron might be a perfectly acceptable suitor whose only fault was being the wrong man.
But her feelings settled like duck meat in her stomach, heavy and making her queasy at each encounter with him.
So much did she dislike having to pretend polite conversation that, following the success of her initial visit to Merry during morning calls, Clem continued to avoid the baron by the simple expedient of not being at home. An absent object of one’s so-called affection could not be wooed.
Was her mother suspicious about her frequent absences? Certainly, Mama was not happy, but neither could she argue with Clem’s most acceptable excuses.
A widowed friend.
Another with a turned ankle.
A charitable visit to an orphanage.
To be fair, Clem never lied. She fulfilled every one of her visits and enjoyed the feeling of independence they offered. But she was desperate to know if her tactics had convinced her parents to give up on Lord Hetherington.
In case they were still intent on the match, Clem intended to ask Rufus at the earliest opportunity to implement Merry’s suggestion, unless he had already come up with the same idea. How difficult would it be to tail someone?
Rufus would surely know. He knew so many unusual things that Clem suspected she knew exactly what he did for the War Office.
Were her parents planning to extract an offer from him?