Chapter Seven

Clara had spent the better part of the week locked in her room, unwilling to see or speak to anyone, even her parents. She knew she was behaving like one of the spoiled ladies she had viewed with disdain since arriving in London, but she couldn't help herself. She had been humiliated by Bettina Moppet and Dilworth and now she was the laughingstock of all of London. All she wished was to disappear.

Of course, that was an impossibility. With Papa's business dealings, they were compelled to stay in London until Parliament let out, which meant they would likely stay for several more months, much to Clara's horror. Well, at least they wouldn't be invited to many balls. The invitations had decidedly diminished since her argument with Bettina in the park. However, a growing number of calling cards were coming in daily from suitors. Clara had refused them all, wary of anyone now that her faith in her ability to judge people had been so utterly shaken. She had no wish to make any new acquaintances. It was best to stay firmly out of society, where she could do no more damage to her reputation.

The last caller she'd actually spoken with had been the Duke of Combe. Oddly enough, the kiss they had shared had been the only thing she had experienced in the past week that had offered her a pleasurable solace away from intrusive thoughts and terrible gossip. She found herself thinking about it often—and then scolding herself for dwelling on it when it was all too likely that he had already forgotten about it. It was probably for the best. She needed to stay away from members of the ton.

She had written her friend Holly about all her troubles and had not received a reply. When her maid had begun to knock frantically at her door, she hoped that it was because she had finally received a letter. But Clara only found her maid, Elizabeth, staring wide eyes as she opened the door.

"Elizabeth," she said with concern. "What is it?"

"There are a great many things happening downstairs, miss," Elizabeth said, hurrying inside. "You must dress for dinner."

"I don't feel like going down tonight," Clara said, turning to follow her maid towards the wardrobe. "Maybe a tray can be sent up, like last night?"

"No, no, no," Elizabeth said, pulling out her finest dresses. "You must dress."

"Not in a ball gown, surely?" she said. She put her hand on Elizabeth's wrist, stopping her. "Is there something wrong? What's going on?"

"The Duke of Combe has arrived and requested an audience with your father," Elizabeth said with a hushed tone, as if saying it too loud would cause the duke to leave. "He was very insistent."

Panic set in as Clara's heart started to race wildly. What on earth was the duke doing here and why did he wish to speak with her father? She had planned never to see him again.

"What does he want?" she asked as she quickly undressed. She nodded to the icy blue gown that had a lace detail along the hem and bodice. "When did he arrive?"

"A quarter of an hour ago, miss," she said as she helped Clara dress. "He seemed rather determined."

"Determined? What does that mean?"

"Well," Elizabeth said as she laced Clara up. "He walked with purpose."

"Did he? Hmm. None of these fine gentlemen ever walk with purpose," she said. "But surely he only came to discuss some sort of investment with Papa. That's the whole reason why we're in town after all."

"Perhaps, miss," Elizabeth said, sounding unconvinced.

The maid forcibly pushed Clara onto a plush bench that sat before her vanity and quickly brushed out her hair. She applied some rose water to smooth the most aggravating waves and then pulled it all back into a simple psyche knot style that allowed Clara's natural hair to appear simple yet regal in a Grecian sort of way.

She hurriedly put on her slippers and her maid all but pushed her out the door. She raced towards the top of the stairs and took a deep breath before descending with her best attempt at a calm fa?ade. Why she felt so excited made no sense to her. Clara was not particularly interested in the duke, but the idea of seeing him again made her uncharacteristically eager.

Upon reaching the landing, she was unsure if she should go to her father's office or search for her mother. The grumbling of her stomach made the decision for her and she went to the dining room, hoping to find a morsel or two to eat before the duke appeared.

Unfortunately, she would have no such luck. Entering the dining room, she saw her father, mother, and the duke, discussing something at the far end of the table. They instantly stopped talking when Clara appeared and she felt suddenly uneasy.

"Good evening," she said, curtsying as the duke bowed. "Forgive me, your grace, I was unaware that you were joining us tonight."

"I hadn't planned on it. In fact I'm late for another appointment," he said, his dark eyes on her. "But I had wished to discuss something with your father and it could not wait."

"Ah," she said with apprehension as a footman pulled out her chair. She sat down as did her mother. "A business venture, I presume?"

"No," her father said. "Not quite."

Clara looked at her father and then the duke. She waited but when her father didn't say anything, the duke did.

"I asked your father if he would allow me to court you," the duke said, his eyes on Clara.

Terror mixed with arousal coursed through her blood at hearing his words. Her eyes went wide and for a moment no one spoke.

Had this man lost his mind?

"My dear?" her father said.

Clara shot up.

"Papa, may I speak with the duke privately for a moment?"

"I don't think that would be the best idea, Clara," her mother said warily.

"It will be fine," Clara said over her shoulder as she was already leaving the room. "The parlor door shall remain open."

Although Clara was usually a dutiful daughter, the audacity of the duke had shattered her sensibility. She was not going to be courted by him and she planned on telling him so in so many words.

Clara heard his heavy footfall behind her as she came into the parlor, turning on him the moment she was halfway into the room.

"Why are you here?" she asked him pointedly, not bothering with any pretense of politeness.

The duke's dark hair fell over his brow as he tilted his head.

"To court you," he answered, peering over his shoulder. He turned back to face her. "Do you often dictate your house like this?"

"What I do in my own home is none of your business," she said quickly. "And don't lie to me. I want to know why you are here."

"I don't lie," he said, his tone dangerous as he turned on her.

"Well, you can't make me believe you're here to actually court me," she said quickly. "You're plotting something, I've no doubt."

"What something?" he asked.

"I don't know! Some more humiliation," she said putting her hand to her forehead. She squeezed the bridge of her nose. "Why won't your kind leave me in peace?"

"My kind?"

"Yes, the peerage," she dropped her hand. "I've done nothing to invite this sort of torture but you all seem hellbent on ruining me for no reason."

In an instant, he was before her, towering over her like some fallen angel. Surprised that he was so close, she saw a wash of pain sweep over his face before melting into a concealed mask.

"I'm not trying to torture you," he said slowly, almost more to himself than to her. "I only wish to help."

She stared at him with unabashed confusion.

"Help? How?" she asked.

"By spending time with you."

"And why would you want to do something like that?"

"Because I find you…" He hesitated, before landing on a word. "Peculiar."

Her brows lifted.

"Peculiar?"

"Yes."

Clara tilted her head, debating whether she should be insulted or worried. He was acting strangely.

"Are you feeling unwell, your grace?" she asked, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"No," he ground out. "And I don't like being treated as if I'm some sort of madman."

"There are quite literally hundreds of other women who would better suit you."

"What makes you so sure about that?" He asked.

"Because there are," she said, gesturing her hand around the room as if every eligible lady in London stood along the parlor wall. "There were dozens of ladies at Trembley's ball the other night, each one finer than I with proper pedigrees who would suit you much better than I."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because we are from two different worlds. I would think you would prefer to spend your time with ladies who share your tastes, your upbringing—

He put his hand up and she stifled her words. He seemed eager to say something, but also hesitant. Deciding to wait, she folded her arms across her chest to see what he had to say.

Taking a deep breath, the duke spoke.

"I've had my fair share of fine ladies. That said, I don't think pedigree makes the woman and I find myself intrigued by you."

"But I am not intrigued by you."

He had the gall to smirk and Clara had to beat down the unwanted excitement she felt surge through her.

"Not yet."

Insolent man.

"Not ever. I have no wish to have any more relations with members of the peerage," she said, her chin raised. "Furthermore, I have no desire to be courted by anyone. Especially you."

"I'm not leaving until you agree."

"Absolutely not."

His brow cinched together and he shook his head. "Are you unaware of what I'm offering? The entire city thinks you're a madwoman for verbally attacking Dilworth's new fiancé."

"I didn't attack her," Clara said furiously. "That article purposely tried to murder my character."

"Regardless, it's all anyone is talking about. Now, I feel obligated to assist you, considering my part in all of this. Since Dilworth, the sniveling worm, is only working to protect his own skin, I thought I could offer to court you, as a gesture of good faith, to possibly fend off any unwanted suitors that are undoubtedly on their way here."

Clara frowned. She had already been inundated with several dozen calling cards, all from men she didn't know. She had no doubt they were only after her fortune.

"And what concern is it of yours if I'm set upon by fortune hunters?"

"I feel some sense of responsibility because I had a hand in ruining your would-be engagement with Dilworth."

"I was under the impression that you believe you saved me."

The duke did not answer right away and Clara saw something dark pass over her eyes. He stared at her like she belonged to him and for a moment she felt as if she did. It was ridiculous of course, but then she had never felt something so undeniable.

"I do," he said quietly, staring at her. "But I shouldn't go about saving those who don't wish to be saved."

Though she knew he was talking about her, Clara couldn't help but see a deeper meaning to his words. Had he tried to save someone before her? Had something happened between him and his wife? She was desperate to know. An eager wish to know everything about him bloomed in her chest but, she had no right to any of his history. At least, not yet.

"I still don't see how this would benefit you."

"It would benefit us both. If we were seen together, my position would undoubtedly squelch any rumors about your, well, provincial upbringing."

"Provincial upbringing?" she repeated, annoyed. The duke nodded. "That still doesn't tell me how you would benefit from this arrangement."

A shadow passed over his face and Clara was curious as to why he seemed to hesitate.

"I believe you would be helpful to me," he said slowly, his eyes dropping for a moment.

"In what way?"

He became shuttered as he turned away from her, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Does it matter? I wish to help alleviate some of the damage my wager with Dilworth has caused you." He turned back to see her and Clara felt her heart jump slightly at the unmistakable discomfort she saw in his eyes. "Will you accept my help?"

Curious as to why he should be in any sort of pain, Clara tilted her head in consideration.

"You wish to form a partnership then? To bring up both our stocks in the eyes of the ton?"

"In a way, yes."

There was something in his eyes that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It was a clever plan, Clara had to admit but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else he wasn't telling her.

"So, this is your olive branch then? To help smooth over my reputation, while fixing yours as well?"

"Yes."

It was a stretch, but if it meant she could escape the number of suitors who were already beginning to line up at her doorstep, she thought it was worth it. She held out her hand.

"Very well, I accept," she said quickly. "You may court me."

The duke's brow lifted in surprise. His eyes dropped to her outstretched hand before taking it. Clara ignored the shiver that shot down her spine as his large hand enclosed around her gloved fingers.

"Just like that?" he asked, his tone oddly low.

"It is a smart plan and I don't find you objectionable. Besides, you said you wouldn't leave until I agreed. I agree, which means you may leave."

He smiled and the crinkle at the corner of his dark eyes caused a strange sort of flutter in her stomach. He pulled her towards him.

"Are you only agreeing to get rid of me?"

She pulled her hand out of his grasp, ignoring the spark she felt. She was wary of how he made her feel both giddy and irritated at the same time.

"Possibly."

"Fair enough," he said, taking a step away from her. For a moment she was afraid he might leave, but then he turned around and she noticed a sheepish expression on his face. "I hope being linked to me won't cause you more trouble."

"What trouble?" she asked.

"My history," he said slowly. "There are people who don't particularly care to associate with a divorced duke."

She had overheard as much the night they met, but surely not everyone in society would think like that. Although, knowing the ton as she did now, she wouldn't be surprised if they shunned even a duke.

"Your divorce is not a problem for me," she said honestly, although she did intend to learn more about it now that they were linked. "Nor am I concerned with the opinions of others."

The duke gazed at her with an intensity that made her catch her breath. What an odd feeling it was to be the center of his attention. She felt as though he was staring right through her. Was this what it was like to be courted, truly, by someone who wasn't simply after her fortune? She felt her cheek warm beneath his gaze and saw his eyes light with fire.

"Then I will call on you tomorrow," he said.

"Very well," she said with a nod. He turned to leave when she spoke. "Should we go for a promenade? Maybe around the park?"

The duke's back became stiff and Clara noted the rigidness of his body. Slowly he turned back to face her.

"A walk?"

She tilted her head.

"Why not? I think it would be the perfect setting for people to see us together. Not to mention it is where my last humiliation took place. I think returning there will be the quickest way to overcome all those rumors about me."

His mouth set in a hard line and his whole face seemed suddenly drawn. It made her uneasy. What was wrong?

"Very well, then," he said, taking her hand as he bent over it. He pressed his mouth to the back of her knuckles before standing up. "Until tomorrow then. It has been a pleasure, Miss Woodvine," he said.

"Clara," she said softly. "You may call me Clara."

He nodded.

"Silas," he said before turning away.

Clara watched for a second time as the duke left her parlor, only this time she followed and went to the dining room where her parents had been anxiously waiting.

"Well, my dear?" her mother asked. "What did he say?"

"He asked to court me and I accepted," she answered truthfully.

"It's not just because he's a duke is it, my dear?" her father asked, his brow knit with worry. "I hope you do not feel that we would push you to make such an advantageous match, simply because you can. Especially after what transpired between you and the viscount."

"No, I told him that being a duke was rather a mark against him."

"Oh dear," her mother exclaimed.

"But it is neither here nor there. We are to go for a promenade tomorrow, Mama. You'll need to chaperone."

"Oh, well then," she said, looking at her husband. "Very well."

Very well indeed. Clara spooned her ham and pea soup. She would be courted by the duke. Even though he only seemed interested in boosting her persona, she couldn't help but feel wildly giddy over the fact that the dark and dangerous duke would be accompanying her around the park.