Chapter 3 #3
“Yes. I daresay I am all of those things, what with having withstood living here my entire life,” Clara growled.
Benjamin looked between both women, genuinely shocked by the vitriol and lack of respect.
He knew Deborah was owed deference from her daughter, and yet he felt a sharp, inexplicable pang of pity for Clara, perhaps because he, himself, knew what it was like to strive for perfection in the eyes of a parent.
Benjamin loved his father, but with that admiration came the compulsion to never disappoint him.
Deborah, clearly a fan of theatrics, feigned a swoon and pressed a hand to her forehead. “I need to sit down,” she whimpered. “All this senseless chatter has aggravated my condition.”
“Allow me,” Benjamin offered, quick to pull out a chair. As he seated her, he caught Clara’s gaze, and she responded with an eyeroll. “Er…are you feeling any better, Mrs. Boyd?” he asked. “Should I fetch your lady’s maid?”
“No, no,” she said, waving off the idea. “I’m much better now that you’re here. A big, strong man is precisely what this household needs!”
Clara shook her head, furiously cutting up her eggs.
But rather than eat them, she just as furiously shoved aside her plate.
“You are free to fawn over, ingratiate, and even flirt with Lottie’s intended, yet I am the doxy?
” Livid, she glowered at the older woman.
“Father may not be home as often as it pleases you, Mother, but at least have the decency to keep your desires secret!”
Deborah drew up from her seat, clearly forgetting her feigned ailment. “Why, you miserable doggess! I should have you thrown into the street!”
“Please do!” Clara seethed. “At least then I’ll become the harlot you’ve always claimed!”
Catherine burst into tears, and despite the look of regret in Clara’s eyes, the redhead steeled her shoulders and stalked from the room.
Awkwardly, Benjamin lingered near Deborah, unsure of his place now that the natural order had been disturbed.
“Well!” the matriarch exclaimed. “Let us conclude all this nonsense, shall we? Catherine, stop crying. Such weakness is unsightly. And Mr. Ashby…” She turned to Benjamin with a bright, wolfish smile. “Might you tell me about your business?”
Benjamin flinched at her close proximity, but nodded. “Of course,” he agreed.
“Splendid! Let us reclaim our seats.”
As he followed her example, his eyes strayed toward the dining room entrance, half hoping to see Clara in the doorway.
The morning came and went, and without any true progress.
Although Clara bribed William to listen in on Philip’s conversation with her mother and sister, she was disappointed to find it lacking.
The man didn’t say anything worthy of note.
According to William, Deborah had commandeered the conversation to be entirely about herself, so it left very little chance for Philip to catch himself in a lie—not that the servant knew of her suspicions, of course.
Whenever making her request, Clara claimed she was trying to determine if Philip was “the perfect gentleman” for Charlotte.
Thus far, she still had no earthly idea if this was even the case.
Frustrated, Clara paid William, and he alerted her that Philip was presently in the library.
After asking the young man to join them as a chaperone, she went downstairs in search of her target.
Philip sat reading unawares. He flipped through her copy of The Taming of the Shrew, his eyes scanning the text while he jiggled his foot.
“Good afternoon, Philip!” Clara exclaimed.
Philip jerked, not having expected her greeting. “Uh…good afternoon, Miss Boyd,” he said, clear caution darkening his eyes. When she stalked toward him, he pointedly returned to reading her book.
“Ah-ah-ah!” Just as pointedly, she yanked the novel from his hand and tossed it aside. When he scowled, she placed her hands on her hips. “You promised to accompany me for a stroll, remember? Or are you one of those ‘yes men’ who only says what we Boyds wish to hear?”
“If I choose to lie, I do so for a just reason,” Philip coolly said.
“Oh?” Eyes alight, Clara teased, “Then you don’t find kissing my father’s bottom to be a just cause? Good for you, Philip!”
Annoyed, Philip tried to reclaim the book, but she pushed it farther out of reach.
“Why are you being so stubborn?” she pressed. “Father isn’t here, and neither is your darling Charlotte, so I can’t imagine you actually wishing to dwell within this stuffy old house.”
Take the bait, she inwardly pleaded. Men were all the same, so surely, he would cave…
To her delight, a grudging look flashed over Philip’s eyes, and he ultimately acquiesced.
“Where are we going then?” he wearily asked.
“Just along the grounds,” she assured him, triumphant. “And you look quite dashing in Father’s clothes, if you don’t mind my saying so. I daresay he won’t even realize they’re gone.”
Philip scrunched his brow. “You didn’t tell him?”
“Heavens, no! Father isn’t the acquiescent type.” With a wink, she gestured for him to follow, so he rose and accompanied her to the foyer, where William was waiting for them. “How do you find the garments?”
Philip winced. “A bit tight, actually.”
“Perfect!” Amusement flashed across Clara’s eyes, and she appraised him over her shoulder. “Just remember, Philip: I am the one helping you out of the goodness of my heart, so you’d better be nice to me.”
As she peered up at him with her bright, coquettish smile, Clara allowed him to ponder the hidden meaning behind her words.
The Boyd estate was boundless. A long, uneven dirt path extended from the manor toward their gardens, and several proud, sturdy ginkgo trees dotted the landscape.
Cattle grazed in the fields, and storehouses were tucked along the forest edge with a smattering of daffodils, crocuses, and flowering dogwoods, while directly behind the manor, the Harlem River flowed placidly like a silver skein.
This was surely how it felt when one entered Heaven, Benjamin thought.
It was a true, untouchable paradise, giving off the impression that the world was still beautiful—that it wasn’t on fire and trapped within a cruel, winnerless civil war.
And while Benjamin talked to Clara, his passions fueled by the desire for change kept him vociferous and excitable.
A deep sigh drew him to attention.
“Good gracious, Mr. Ashby, I hope you are quite finished!” Clara complained. “Must you keep asking about Father? I grow so bored of it all!”
She hid her face from the sun beneath a parasol, her hand pressing into the crook of his elbow while William followed at a respectable distance.
Benjamin snorted, a bit thrown. “I’m to be part of your family,” he reminded her. “Wouldn’t it be beneficial if we discussed these matters now rather than later?”
Eyeing him skeptically, Clara adjusted her straw chip hat and huffed. “But wouldn’t you rather talk about me, sir? I am perfectly interesting—marvelously interesting, in fact—yet you’re barely paying me any attention at all.”
Benjamin sneered. “Forgive me, but it would seem that my interests deviate vastly from yours.”
“Well! There is no need for that tone,” Clara snapped. “At least I am not a clodpate.”
“You believe me a clodpate?” Despite his prior agitation, Benjamin’s lips curved into a smile. “If I’m so dull and stupid, let it be known that you’re rather eager to be in my company.”
Clara’s mouth pursed, her eyes flashing. “I’m a woman of society in need of a respectable male acquaintance; as fate would have it, you happen to be the only eligible man available.” She shook her head. “I hope Mother’s fawning inclinations haven’t muddled you. I do not share in her sentiments.”
“Then I have been blessed,” Benjamin muttered. Her fingers dug into his arm, but he didn’t acknowledge the gesture. “Do you think I could stop by your father’s town office sometime? I’d enjoy seeing him at work.”
“Ugh, more talk of Father?” Rolling her eyes, Clara groused, “And to think, womenfolk claim men only reason with their hornpipe, when in actuality, they’re far more obsessed with business and economics.
Such a bore! Truth be told, I would much rather you speak to me about your hornpipe.
” She spared him a sly smile, which Benjamin vigorously ignored.
“Why so interested? Are you intending to study law?”
“I admire your father a great deal,” Benjamin supplied. “As a future in-law, I intend to contribute to the Boyd success story, whether it be through shipbuilding, or following his example. And in order to do that, I need a decent knowledge of the goings-on of his office.”
Clara elevated her shoulders. “Oh, very well…it certainly won’t be an enjoyable walk now, but I cannot argue with your reasoning.”
“Oh, no?” In spite of himself, Benjamin smiled.
Clara turned up her nose. “How old are you, Mr. Ashby? For being such a young man, you are quite confident in your arrogance. Is there a reason you believe yourself so charming?”
Sighing through his nose, Benjamin rolled his eyes skyward. “I’m three and twenty, Miss Boyd, so I don’t presume to know anything. I only hope that in time, I can acquire as much worldly wisdom as your father.”
Clara’s expression grew feline. “Well, that’s rather interesting, isn’t it? In Lottie’s letters, she said you were seven and twenty.”
Oh, blood and thunder.
“I lied to her,” Benjamin quickly said. “As unscrupulous as it was, I wanted to impress your sister, so I embellished my life’s story. If Lottie believed me older, and therefore more sophisticated, I thought she would desire me in the way I desire her.”
Clara huffed, though her stance softened. “She does love older men,” she agreed, twirling her parasol. “Still, you needn’t lie. Mother’s nearing the end of her prime, and even she was willing to throw her legs over her head.”
Benjamin choked, unable to return her gaze.