CHAPTER 5

Clara found it hard to concentrate on the beat of the music, to make sure all of her steps were in time, when Simon was insisting on telling her all about his latest investment. His droning words were distracting, especially as he was not really saying anything.

Clara was doing her best to respond when she needed to, to keep up the polite appearance that was expected of her, but internally, she was anywhere but with Simon. Her imagination was giving her a much needed escape from this nattering.

Where her mind kept taking her was dangerous, but Clara could not seem to stop her imagination from heading in one place in particular. The extremely handsome Mr. Christopher Fitzhugh. The artistic gentleman whom Elliot had already described enough to pique her interest. Now that she knew what he looked like, she was even more interested in him.

Not only did he share her inclination towards the arts, but he also possessed a lofty stature and a strong physique, accompanied by an exceedingly attractive chiseled jaw line. Those blue green eyes of his seemed to pierce right in to her soul, seeing the parts of her that she did not normally allow the world to see.

The conversation with him had been brief., but there was something so extremely charged about it. It was almost as if he buzzed with understanding, and that vibrated through her too. Two artistic souls at this party. That had drawn them together in ways she was not expecting.

Clara could not deny that she wished she could be dancing with him instead of Simon. At least then they would have something to talk about.

Her heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of him dancing with Miss Henrietta Devereux. Despite Henrietta’s beauty, Christopher did not seem all that enthralled with her. Perhaps it was Clara’s imagination, but she thought he seemed to be looking her way as well. In between trying to master all of the steps of course.

It was clear that he had not danced at a London ball for a while, which made her smile a little to herself. She would still want to dance with him, even if he was not perfect.

His spontaneous invitation to view her artistic attempts flowered through Clara’s mind. She could hardly think of anything else. He was the first person to truly seem interested in what she had created, which truly enthralled her. Although it was hard to tell if the flutters in the pit of her stomach came from excitement or nerves.

Christopher was a real artist who had traveled to perfect his talents. What was he going to think of her work? It was not even all finished, which would be hard for her. But there was no way that she would turn down the chance to get to know the man better.

Finally, the orchestra concluded and the song was over. Simon dutifully stepped back from Clara, but offered his arm to escort her from the dance floor, all the way back to her mother.

It was hard for Clara not to get irritated by the beaming smile her mother wore. Clearly this was the start to the evening that she wanted.

“My, what a lovely couple,” Estelle exclaimed as she clasped her hands together eagerly. “You looked positively radiant out there. Dancing. Together.”

Clara glanced at Simon to see if he was reading between the unsubtle lines to see what her mother was saying. But he had a blank smile on his face, like he did not have a clue. At least he was completely unable to pick up hints. That was good to know.

“Did you enjoy the dance, Lord Caldwell?” Estelle continued, pushing further, embarrassing Clara even further. “Do you have many dances lined up for the night?”

It was a relief when Clara spotted Imogen out of the corner of her eye. She needed to escape her mother’s prattling as soon as she could, so with a slight murmur that neither Estelle nor Simon seemed to hear, she slipped away to the refreshments table easily.

“Oh my goodness,” Clara exclaimed the moment she was close enough for Imogen to hear her. “What a night. Did you see me dancing?”

Imogen nodded sympathetically. “You did not look like you were having fun.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “I was not. I fear that Lord Caldwell is becoming more insistent with his courtship, and of course my mother is not helping me. It is building my vexation, I must admit. No one seems to understand how unsuitable he is as a match.”

“Was it really that bad?” Imogen asked with a wince.

“Oh yes. We do not have a single thing to say to one another. Not at all. I do not believe we share anything when it comes to intellect and values. We are too different.”

“They say opposites can attract.”

Clara scoffed. “Not in this case. I do not believe that there will ever be an attraction there. If it has not happened yet, then I do not see it ever building. He might be fine for someone else. There may be a woman out there who likes listening to him talk about finances. Someone who finds him charming and exciting. But that will never be me.”

Imogen laughed, but there was a definite sympathy in her tone. “Yes, I can only imagine how you must feel. I wish I could have more advice for you. I do not know what you should do. I do not know how you can get your mother to understand that he is not the man for you.”

Imogen fanned herself in solidarity, pausing only when Elliot approached the women. Clara was grateful to see her cousin again, but even happier that he had Christopher with him. She much preferred to have him close to her, rather than dancing with someone else.

Clara’s heartbeat quickened and she could not stop herself from smiling.

“Clara, Lady Chambers,” Elliot declared with a sweeping smile. “How are you enjoying this evening?” All of a sudden, he recalled his manners and Elliot stepped back. “Oh. Lady Chambers, this is Mr. Christopher Fitzhugh. Mr. Fitzhugh, this is Clara’s friend, Lady Imogen Chambers.”

Clara was delighted to see that Christopher did not look quite so enamored with Imogen as he had when they were introduced. Was it all in her mind? Or did he really seem particularly interested in her? Her heartbeat quickened as she tried to picture what that might mean.

Christopher met her eyes, and for a moment it felt like he could see exactly what she was thinking. Even crazier, it felt like he was wondering the same thing…

Just then, Lady Abigail Ashford swept up in a cloud of expensive French perfume and glittering diamonds. She was unlike anyone Clara had ever seen before. She was already enamored with her.

“Well, well, well,” Abigail declared in a sweeping voice as she scanned her eyes around the four of them. “How good it is to see you all. I see the waltzing pairs are just lining up.” Clara was in awe as Abigail arched a brow at Elliot and Christopher. “I think you two should take these lovely ladies out onto the dance floor. They look like they would make wonderful partners for the pair of you.”

Elliot grinned and immediately extended his hand out to Imogen, who accepted eagerly. That left Clara, slowly turning to look at Christopher to see how he was feeling about this. She had no idea if this was about to be a wonderful moment, where all her dreams for the evening came true, or if she was about to be humiliated and rejected.

It was unlikely. Christopher did not seem the type to be rude or to want to ruin her reputation, but if he had been out of the country for a while, he might not recall how to do things the right way. He might act without thinking.

But he did not. Much to Clara’s relief, he extended his gloved hand to Clara, who took it happily. A smile spread across her face as a thrill of awareness coursed through her body. This was the strongest moment of excitement that she had ever experienced, and it was just getting started. The quicker Christopher and she got on to the dance floor, the more of him she would get to experience.

Never had she wanted to get to know a gentleman as much as this one. She had not been looking forward to this ball tonight, until she laid eyes on him.

As the opening chords swelled, Christopher’s hand gently grasped Clara’s to lead her in to the rotating steps in flawless time.

Clara had to admit that she was surprised how well he seemed to glide with her, when it looked like he had been having trouble getting the steps right while partnered with Henrietta. Was that because they were simply in tune with one another in ways that other people would not be able to understand?

“Are you ever inspired by the works of Thomas Lawrence?” Christopher suddenly asked her, igniting that deep spark of passion. “Because I have always found his work quite fascinating. His brush strokes…”

“Oh and the way that he captures the human spirit,” Clara agreed whole heartedly. “I can always feel the emotions of his subjects when I see his work. That is something I only wish I could achieve myself. I try, but I think it will take me a long time.”

Speaking about her own art reminded her that Christopher wanted to come and see her work. If that was not just a polite suggestion, which she did not think it was. Christopher did not seem like the type of man to speak idly.

“I love the way Lawrence works shadow and lighting into his work,” Christopher agreed with her. “It gives everything a strong sense of realism. I know in other areas of Europe, people are fascinated by the surrealism and bizarre, but I like to feel myself within a painting.”

He was so exotic and well traveled, it made Clara swoon. This was exactly the sort of conversation that she would like to imagine having with her future husband. She wanted a man that she could understand, and who understood her also.

Just a few moments with Christopher were far more thrilling than any time she had spent with Simon. This only made her more determined to ensure her parents understood that she did not wish to marry Lord Caldwell, no matter what his status and title meant.

“Do you have a favourite painting of his?”

This felt like an incredibly intimate question for Clara to ask, it was not something that she had ever discussed with another person before. But if there was anyone who would understand the importance of this question, it was Christopher.

“I have always enjoyed Pinkie,” Christopher said after musing for only a moment. “How about you?”

“I adore Children of Sir Samuel Fludye” she replied without a second of hesitation. “The emotions depicted in that art work are just wonderful.”

Unfortunately, before Clara could get any more excited, the music sadly drifted in to silence. Clara’s disappointment to have her meaningful and fascinating conversation come to an end was acute and palpable. There was so much that she wanted to say, but she was not sure when she would get the chance to do so. If at all.

She suddenly noticed someone glaring at her over Christopher’s shoulder. Miss Henrietta Deveraux. She might have had smooth features on the surface, but Henrietta could sense a simmering anger underneath the surface. Clearly she was not happy to see Christopher dancing with someone else which might prove to be a problem in the future.

She might not be allowed to dance with him again, which would be a real, heartbreaking shame.