Chapter Seventeen #2
As he’d prepared for his journey south to retrieve Clara, Dorian had finally told her about Brinley’s decision to not have any children.
The fact that he’d abandoned his wife immediately after discovering she was expecting was more than a little deflating.
Amelia had truly been rooting for him; she’d truly wanted to believe that Brinley could be a good man for Clara’s sake.
The violence of his reaction seemed overblown and irrational—deeper than met the eye.
No matter what the reasoning, however, it tortured Amelia to see Clara so very heartbroken.
And knowing Brinley had abandoned his wife and unborn child was shocking.
“I know I’ve only just arrived, but I must go to London. I feel as if I shall go mad if the man isn’t made to answer for his behavior.”
“Don’t be too rash,” she cautioned her husband.
“Perhaps we should allow him some time to work through whatever it is that has upset him so; allow him the opportunity to come to terms with everything? I know you said he never wished to father a child, but what’s done is done and there is no going back. He must realize that sooner or later.”
Dorian made a discontented grunt as he dropped onto the sofa beside her.
“Maybe he will come around. Maybe he needs only a little time to process this. We must keep faith. Until then, we will care for Clara, provide her with everything she needs, and ensure she is as happy as can be expected.”
*
A few months passed and both Amelia and Clara’s pregnancies progressed.
Amelia’s baby was expected to make his appearance sometime in November, and she had decided to wait out her confinement and give birth in the comfort of her familiar, beloved Scottish home.
For Clara, this meant missing the London Season, and she was surprised that she minded so little.
She’d once so looked forward to returning to Town as a newly married woman with a title all her own, but it seemed so trivial after what had transpired.
Pearce hadn’t so much as sent her a letter to ask after her health or to inform her of his whereabouts.
He needn’t do the latter, however, because Clara was certain he had dived back into his life of debauchery and excess in London—anything to help him cope with the resurgence of pain.
She knew he was lost and upset over her pregnancy, but how could he abandon her like that?
She might have been more of a mind to storm London like a Viking invader and make a scene the ton would not soon forget, but her pregnancy nausea came on with a terrible force, leaving her bedridden for much of the morning and sometimes into the early afternoon.
It seemed to her that she’d have no opportunities to enjoy anything about this pregnancy; her husband had abandoned her over it, and now even the babe, itself, was doing its best to make her miserable.
Toward the end of October, Amelia spent much time in bed and resting, very heavy with child. This left Dorian in charge of the household, his own estates, as well as that which Amelia actively managed for Archie; he was also in charge of his stepson while his mother rested.
Clara found the two of them arranging soldiers throughout the parlor one afternoon, waging a furious battle with strategies she could not even begin to comprehend.
Archie astonished her with his knowledge of tactics and his complex plans.
Of course, their wars were not without some bickering as Dori and Archie debated the merits of one defensive measure over another.
Regardless, she had always loved watching the two of them together.
“Auntie Clara!” Archie jumped up at her arrival. “Come play with us!”
“I am afraid I will be more of a hindrance than an asset when it comes to this game.”
“That’s alright; I always win anyway.”
“That is because you unleash a famine or plague each time your army is close to losing,” Dori grumbled. Archie shot him a glare and Clara laughed.
“Very well, I will play, but only if I can be the cavalry. You know how I enjoy the horse figurines.”
The three of them waged an intricate—and sometimes ridiculous—war until Archie’s tutor arrived to advise him that it was time to return to his studies. The boy protested only slightly before complying.
Dori sighed and stretched his back before leaning against the front of the sofa. Clara had moved from the floor to the seat, so she looked down at her brother as they shared a small smile.
“How have you been faring?” he asked.
“Well enough.”
“Amelia said the mornings have not treated you kindly.”
She snorted. “Not in the least.”
“He should be here with you. He should be here for you.”
Clara’s entire body tensed.
She and her brother had done an admirable job of avoiding the topic of Pearce since her arrival, but Clara suspected that had largely been in part to the pointed glances Amelia often sent in Dori’s direction. Now, her brother seemed to be taking advantage of his wife’s absence.
Clara had had weeks to mull over her situation and form her reactions to Pearce’s behavior. She did not know how she would forgive him for retreating, or for pretending she did not exist, but she knew he had his demons to battle.
“He had his reasons.”
“I refuse to believe that. How can you be so forgiving of him?”
“I have not forgiven him.”
“Accepting, then. Why are you accepting this treatment?”
“I love him, Dori!” she sobbed and swiped at her face. She was so tired of it all, exhausted by the pitying glances.
Dorian hesitated and then said with no small amount of discomfort, “Love is all well and fine, but it should not make you blind to what he’s done. You are under no obligation to be so forgiving. He abandoned you, by God!”
“He had his reasons!” she reiterated.
“What could possibly justify this behavior?” Dori demanded.
“With all due respect, that is between me and my husband.”
“The babe is his, is it not?” he blurted, a terrible possibility dawning on him.
Clara’s mouth fell open.
As soon as he registered the words he’d spouted and Clara’s reaction to them, Dori shoved a hand through his hair.
“I am sorry. I never should have said such a thing; that was out of line. I…I just do not know how Brinley could behave in such a way. It is shameful that he—my closest friend, of all people—would treat my sister this way.” He took an uneasy breath and added, “I thought…never mind. I am just sorry for forcing you into such an arrangement.”
Clara covered his hand with hers. “I wish you wouldn’t feel so responsible when I was the one who had been snooping in the garden. You need not carry that burden.”
Dorian squeezed her hand back. “You truly have grown up, haven’t you?” he remarked fondly.