Chapter 23
Over the following week, grief filled me every time I thought about Alec’s inevitable departure, and my engagement to the duke, but joy took me by surprise when I thought about the prince’s visit—my father’s visit. It had changed everything to know who he was, and who my family members were.
For the first time since I’d agreed to Aunt Maude’s wild plans, I realized that I was more than qualified to become a real duchess.
And I spent a lot of time thinking through my childhood, wondering if there had been some part of me that always knew the truth.
Uncle Charlie and Aunt Orla had called me Duchess growing up, but it had been a derogatory term, meant to shame me.
I was certain they had no idea who my father was, but had there been a part of my bearing or mannerisms that had reflected the truth?
I would never know, so I tried not to dwell on it.
The world would never know the truth, but it was enough that I knew.
For the first time in my life, I had a sense of belonging, of understanding who I was and where I came from.
Both of my parents had told me they wanted to keep me.
My father had even said he would have abdicated the throne for me and my mother.
But Nellie had chosen the wisest course for the sake of England, even if it had been a great sacrifice for the three of us to bear.
“There you are,” Aunt Maude said as she entered the drawing room, resplendent in a Worth gown fit for the mother of a duchess. “Lady Mandeville’s carriage will be here shortly. Are you ready?”
I gave her a brief nod but looked behind her to see if Alec had joined us.
He hadn’t.
“You look lovely, Clara,” Aunt Maude said as she pulled on her long white gloves. “I like what Gallagher did with your hair.”
“Thank you.” I touched the coiffure, my own gloves making it impossible to feel the strands of hair.
I was wearing a new silver and diamond tiara that Aunt Maude had purchased from Garrard & Company, the royal jeweler.
It was a simple tiara, but it was beautiful, and, I was certain, expensive.
What would Alec think when he saw the extravagant purchase?
Aunt Maude and I had done a lot of shopping that week. She was convinced that once the duke and I were engaged, the revenue boost from their hotels would more than compensate for her expenditures.
I wasn’t so sure, but then again, I didn’t understand how those things worked.
“Are you ready, my dear?” she asked me.
“Is Alec not coming?”
She pursed her lips and lifted her chin. “I do not believe so.”
I had not seen him since the kiss in the sitting room. He had spent all his time at White’s, leaving in the morning before I woke up and coming in late at night, after I was in bed. His avoidance was almost worse than anything else.
“Why did he stay in London if he wasn’t going to attend the ball tonight?” I asked, trying not to let my disappointment show.
She briefly closed her eyes in irritation.
“I asked him to stay until the morning after the ball, assuming he would attend the ball, but when I spoke to him this morning, he told me, in no uncertain terms, that he would not.” She sighed.
“And because I did not want to argue with him, I chose to let it go. We really don’t need him anymore. ”
Her words stung. Aunt Maude had used both Alec and me to get what she wanted. The way she so easily threw people aside when she was done with them was alarming and heartless. The longer I knew her, the less I wanted to be like her.
Through the window, I saw Lady Mandeville’s carriage arrive out front.
My insides were twisted in knots as I took a deep breath.
When I returned to the house tonight, I would be engaged to the Duke of Severton—to Ames Welby.
I had seen him on two occasions that week, both at social events we’d attended.
Just like before, he and I had shared witty banter, but there was no spark of romance between us.
At least, not on my part. He had shared nothing more about his family’s scandalous past, or his home at Pickering Castle.
I’d resigned myself to the fact that I would learn everything I needed to know about him after we were married.
A dubious prospect, since I’d be legally and morally bound to him at that point and would have no recourse if the truth was too difficult to bear.
With no time left and nothing else to be done, I followed Aunt Maude out of the drawing room and toward the front door, where Rodgers stood waiting.
My gaze went up the stairs, hoping and praying Alec had changed his mind and would join us.
Would I even see him before he left in the morning?
Would our final parting be that impassioned kiss in the sitting room last week?
Tears threatened, but I forced them back. I couldn’t arrive at the duke’s ball with red, puffy eyes.
Lady Mandeville was in her carriage, waiting for us.
“Clara, how lovely you look,” she said, approval in her gaze as I stepped into the vehicle. “You are meant to be a duchess.”
“Thank you,” I managed to say, though my throat was dry.
Aunt Maude stepped in next and settled on the seat beside the countess.
“Is Mr. Paxton-Hill not joining us?” Lady Mandeville asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Aunt Maude answered, but that was all she would say.
Lady Mandeville raised her eyebrows and looked at me, as if to ask whether I knew anything about Alec’s decision.
I offered her a weak smile and shook my head.
The duke’s family home was in Belgrave Square, almost too close to Buckingham Palace Road to take the carriage, but it wouldn’t be fashionable to walk.
As the carriage clattered over the cobblestones, I looked out the window, admiring the front of Buckingham Palace as we drove by.
It was strange and wonderful to think that if my father had been able to marry the woman he loved, I might have grown up there.
That I might have stood next to the queen during the drawing room presentations, and that I could have one day inherited the throne.
It was all too much to consider.
“There’s something different about you, Clara,” Lady Mandeville said as she studied me. “I do believe that the thought of becoming a duchess has caused your shoulders to lift and your bearing to become more regal.”
She and Aunt Maude shared a knowing smile, but if they saw a difference in me, it was because I finally understood who I was.
It began the night of Aunt Maude’s dinner party, when Alec had whispered, “I hope you’ll start to believe that in God’s eyes, you’re more than a duchess.
You are the daughter of a King.” Alec hadn’t known and still didn’t know the truth.
He had meant that I was the daughter of God, the King of Kings.
But he had seen me, understood me better than anyone else, and he valued and loved me as Keira O’Day and as Clara Day Hill.
If my shoulders had lifted, it wasn’t because I was about to become a duchess, or I had learned that my father was the prince. It was because Alec had fallen in love with me, the real me.
The duke’s home was not as impressive as some I’d seen, but it was still beautiful and in the heart of one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in London.
The sun had just set and the first of the evening stars sparkled in the night sky.
A footman appeared to help us out of the carriage, and when the house’s front door opened, the butler stood there to greet us.
My heart was pounding hard as I stepped into the duke’s townhome, noting the absence of flowers that had graced all the other homes I’d attended parties in this season.
The décor was dated, but the walls looked like they had been freshly painted, and everything was clean. When was the last time this house had been occupied or held a party?
There were several dozen people already in attendance and more carriages had pulled up behind ours.
Many people suspected the duke’s intentions with this party, and no doubt they wanted to be present as a new duchess was selected.
We hadn’t known each other long, but Lady Mandeville had assured me that a quick engagement wasn’t unusual, especially with American heiresses who were not necessarily marrying for love.
The duke stood near the doorway, his face a mask of disinterest. I couldn’t imagine how much he hated this ball, especially since he was so used to the quiet of life at Pickering Castle.
How desperate must he be to marry for money?
He probably hated himself for giving in to the need.
He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, so he had put it off for as long as possible, no doubt.
When he caught sight of me, something seemed to relax in him for a moment—probably relieved I’d come—and then he stiffened again.
“Your Grace,” I said as I gave him a slight curtsey.
He dipped his head. “Miss Hill, I’m relieved you’re here and I didn’t go to all this trouble for nothing.”
I wanted to tell him I had little choice, but there was no point. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”
“Good.” He nodded toward the drawing room. “The ball will take place in there. I will join you shortly.”
“Thank you.”
He greeted Aunt Maude and Lady Mandeville as I waited and then the three of us walked into the drawing room.
A dividing wall between the front and back drawing rooms had been removed, as had all the furniture, allowing for an adequate space to dance. A three-piece orchestra was tucked into one corner and here, there were a few bouquets to brighten the room and add a nice scent.
People were chatting as we entered, but many people glanced in my direction, their conversation quieting for a moment.
Neither the Garfields nor Lily Parker were in attendance, but Annabelle was there with Lord Devan, her arm wrapped through his, her attention focused solely on him.
I only recognized a few people, and most of them were aristocrats.