CHAPTER 14

Christopher circulated the garden party in a bit of a daze after his intimate moment with Clara at the fountain. He knew that he was surrounded by lots of other people, but the only eyes flooding his mind were hers. She really was something special.

But the intense moment by the fountain gripped him the most. He kept replaying those sparks that went through him when his bare fingers brushed her gloved hand. That was something he had never experienced before in his life. He had never felt so… alive touching another person.

What did that mean for him? What did that mean for them?

As much as he did not enjoy his conversations with Miss Deveraux, he truly loved talking with Clara. Her artistic eye really inspired him and made him want to create. Just hearing the awe in her voice while she talked about art was wonderful. Something he would love to listen to all the time. It was something that they shared in a way that he did not share with another living soul in the world.

If only he knew what would unfold between Clara and himself. This was supposed to be a ruse, a ploy to distract their families from the ones that they had chosen. But it felt more real than anything else. Christopher had truly never had his heart beat quite like this for another person. He felt like he was in too deep already, and that there would be no way to extract himself from this without sustaining wounds along the way.

“Christopher, there you are!” The sound of Elliot’s excited voice finally drew him back in to the present moment and away from his spiraling thoughts. “I have been searching for you. This is going rather well, do you not think?”

Christopher blinked as he darted his eyes around the party. “Oh yes, I think my mother has done a rather good job…”

“No, that is not what I mean.” Elliot leaned in a little closer so no one else could overhear them. “I am talking about the rumors already swirling around the party. Everyone is discussing Clara and you already. Talking about your cozy turn through the rose garden. Some guests are even speculating if a courtship may be budding.”

A smile crept up on Christopher’s lips. At least in the midst of all the confusion, their plan was working. He was going to have to be careful around his mother, of course, because she would not take this well. But they were going to have to overcome that hurdle to get to where they really wanted to be.

Free to make their own decisions.

That was the aim of this all along. To have freedom and to search for love in the places that they wanted to. To be able to explore a real connection with someone, other than the people they were expected to marry.

Although Christopher struggled to imagine a real connection with anyone else, stronger than the one he already had with Clara…

“Thank you very much for your participation in the games,” Leonora announced loudly. “I hope we have all had a great time playing shuttlecock and battledore. But now I would like to invite you all inside for more tea and games.”

Christopher and Elliot exchanged a look. There was still more to be done. The more they gave the guests to talk about, the more his mother would have to accept that this was the way that things were going to be.

As he walked inside with Elliot, he found himself worried again about how he was going to manage her reaction. Of course that was something he had considered when starting this ruse, but the closer he got to actually facing it, the harder it felt.

“Oh my,” Christopher murmured to himself the moment he set foot in the grand drawing room. His eyes were immediately drawn to Clara and he found her sitting with his aunt.

What were they talking about? It was likely that Aunt Abigail had overheard the whispers surrounding the party. She was very perceptive when it came to things like that, much more than his mother.

Maybe she was trying to see how much she also liked Clara, to decide if she thought she was a good fit for him or not.

Christopher swallowed hard.

That made him very anxious.

“Mr. Fitzhugh, how good it is to finally see you. I was looking for you on the courts.”

“Miss Devereux.” It was hard for Christopher to keep the disappointment from his voice. “I hope you are enjoying the party.”

How was he going to keep watch of Clara and his aunt if Henrietta desperately wanted all of his attention?

“Oh yes, and the refreshments on offer here are truly divine. Your mother must have the keenest eye when it comes to creation. I am inspired by her all the time.”

“Yes, she does.”

Christopher moved ever so slightly. He wanted to get closer to his aunt so he could over hear what they were saying. But of course, Henrietta followed him.

“Did you help her with the preparations? I am sure you must have had a hand in it. Since you like art and the cakes are arranged in a way that I would describe as an art form…”

“No, no, that was something Mother did all by herself.”

It was not easy to keep his focus on Henrietta, but he attempted to do so, remaining polite as he edged his way through the crowds.

“Well she must be the woman that you got all your inspiration from then, because she is quite the artist. Truly. And the taste of those cakes… my goodness, I was blown away. Have you tried one yet? I suppose not because you have only just got here…”

Clara moved.

Christopher watched her the whole time.

She took a seat at the chess table and shot him an inviting look.

“Miss Devereux, I must go and play some of these games. My mother expects me to…”

He was sure that she would not be happy. That Henrietta would be upset by the snub because he was not playing games with her. But he needed to be closer to Clara, and not just for the ruse, but because he yearned to talk to her once more.

Ignoring the protest in his mind which mostly came in his mother’s voice, he pulled out the chair opposite Clara and sat down with a confident smile. The chess pieces, carved from polished wood, awaited their masterful manipulation on the checkered battle field.

“I did not mean to distract you from your conversation,” Clare started, but Christopher shook his head to silence her.

“No, I want to play chess. It has been a while.”

Clara smiled. “Well, I hope your skills are not lacking. I am looking for a worthy opponent.”

The smile on her face lit up a powerful spark within him. He did not usually find the women he played against so competitive. But he adored the fire it stoked within him. Her attitude made him even more determined to win.

“I do not need my skills polishing. I will be quite fine.”

As they made their opening moves, each piece gliding gracefully across the squares, Christopher found himself captivated by Clara’s quick wit and unwavering focus. The world around them blurred, and the only constants were the click of the pieces and the magnetic pull of her gaze. It was not just a game of chess; it was a game of sly looks and stolen moments, once more bringing him to life in a way he did not know he needed.

“You are quite the formidable opponent, Clara,” Christopher remarked, moving his knight with a calculated precision. “It seems I underestimated your skills.”

Clara’s laughter, like a delightful melody, filled the air. “One should never underestimate a woman’s ability to outmaneuver, especially on the chess board.”

After an intense exchange of moves, Clara’s eyes glinted mischievously as she made a daring move, putting his king in check. “Your move, Sir,” she teased, a playful smile playing on her lips.

He contemplated the board, realizing that Clara had set a clever trap. The challenge only fueled his determination to impress her. With a sly grin, he countered, leading the game in to a thrilling climax. The tension in the air mirrored the unspoken connection between them.

The particularly daring move from Clara put Christopher’s king in a precarious position, and he could not help but admire the audacity behind it. “Well played, Clara,” he conceded with a wry smile. “You have managed to corner me. I must admit, I did not see that coming.”

Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of triumph and amusement. “The unexpected moves are often the most effective, do you not think?”

“Check mate, Christopher,” she declared as she made her final move, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

He could not help but join in her laughter. “It seems I have much to learn from you, Clara. Perhaps another match is in order?”

As they set up the pieces once more, hogging the chess board because neither of them wanted to leave their conversation, Christopher leaned in to whisper to her.

“Have you heard? Elliot told me that the rumours about us are flying.”

Clara’s eyes widened. “Oh my. That is… wonderful.”

She sounded as hesitant as she felt, which had him wondering if she was as confused by the whole thing as he was. Did she also have feelings that ran deeper? He wished that he could ask her, but Christopher was not too sure if he should be so bold.

“I am sure our parents will hear of our closeness soon, and they will start to wonder if there is something more between us.”

“And then finally I might not have to deal with Lord Simon Caldwell any longer.”

The way she pulled her face made Christopher laugh. He thought that she had been impressed by the gentleman with his giant bouquet of flowers, but it seemed that Clara was less than impressed by him.

He must be a truly boring man.

Christopher was about to make a similar comment about Henrietta, but then he caught her eyes upon him. She had an angry fire behind her eyes, like she wanted to yell at him. Thank goodness they were in a public place where it would be inappropriate for her to behave in such a manner.

Miss Devereux would never defy societal code. She wanted to remain in the spot light when it came to the ton, just like her family, and it seemed like she always would.

Clara was nothing like that.

Gracious, yes, and polite, but there was more to her and it was the layers to Clara which drew Christopher in.

He watched her setting up the board, envisioning this as their life from here on out, Christopher saw more than just chess matches. He saw evenings filled with intellectual sparring, whispered conversations amidst the grandeur of society, and stolen glances that spoke volumes. Clara became more than a formidable opponent; she transformed into a companion, a confidante in the intricate dance of their intertwined lives.

As the game continued, he found himself contemplating a future where every move was a step toward a deeper connection. The subtle gestures, the shared victories, and the occasional defeats took on a profound significance, shaping a narrative that went beyond the boundaries of the chess board. The idea of Clara being a constant presence in his life became a comforting thought, a beacon of warmth.

With each move, Christopher could not help but feel that they were not just playing chess but engaging in a game of hearts. And in that moment, as the pieces moved with a rhythm only they could understand, he found himself eagerly anticipating the chapters yet to be written in the evolving story of their shared existence.