Chapter Eight

I t was no surprise that Alex's name was linked to Miss Brambury's in the following weeks, since he was partnered with her at dinner parties and dancing twice at each ball. Not that Clarity was taking any notice, too busy enjoying being pursued by Lords Horwood and Brennon.

The former was dark-haired and devil-may-care with a saucy tongue, always able to make her laugh. The latter had a shock of blond hair, which he managed to keep smooth, light-blue laughing eyes, and usually a warm smile upon his face when looking at her.

When she danced with either, she felt content. Lord Brennon often stood with her and her family to chat between dances until he had to rush off to partner another young lady. One morning, she realized Lord Horwood had slipped into the social distance as had Lord Mansfield and her other suitors. Her name was as firmly linked with Lord Brennon's as Alex's was with the viscount's daughter. She didn't suppress her melancholy sigh.

"What's wrong?" Purity asked as they rode together through Hyde Park in their father's phaeton with Adam trotting beside on his favorite mount.

"Is it me, or have we done all one can possibly do during a Season and are now doing it twice?"

"You're bored," her sister declared. "Yet you are at nearly every event with Lord Brennon at your side. Doesn't his scintillating company keep you interested? After all, if you marry him, he will be with you each day for the rest of your life."

Clarity gasped, feeling a moment of sheer terror. Why did her sister's words worry her? After all, there was nothing wrong with Lord Brennon. In fact, she always looked forward to seeing him and felt a distinct fondness for the gentleman.

Taking a deep breath, she considered looking across the breakfast table and the dining room table, seeing him every day and evening before sleeping beside him each night.

Would they have a relationship like her parents?

When she spied Alex on horseback with Miss Brambury beside him coming toward them, her heart sank. With certainty, Clarity knew if she could choose anyone, he would be the one. Naturally, she and Lord Brennon had shared a kiss or two over the past few weeks. Although full on the lips, they seemed chaste in comparison to the conflagration that had flared with Alex's mouth upon hers.

Undoubtedly, together, she and Alex would have had an interesting life if he'd been the person she used to know. This man who glanced at her and her siblings in turn, merely tipping his hat with his gloved hand, while Miss Brambury nodded as if she were already his viscountess, this Alex would not suit Clarity at all.

And then the couple had passed with the lady's chaperone following behind on a gentle mare.

Purity clucked in disapproval.

"What's wrong?" Clarity asked.

"Lord Hollidge was impolite if you ask me."

Clarity frowned while her brother chuckled.

"Nonsense," Adam said. "Hollidge could hardly stop and make conversation with the two of you while riding with Miss Brambury. It would be rude to the lady."

"How so?" Purity asked.

"You may be my sisters," Adam began, "but even I can see the difference between your looks and hers. She's not ugly, by any means, but she's not a Diamond of the first water." He laughed at his own joke.

Clarity ignored him. Her brother enjoyed that silly jest whenever he could, but it had long since stopped getting a rise out of her. However, Purity gainsaid him.

"Brother dear, that is all nonsense. I am not talking about our appearance, although Miss Brambury is what I would call coolly attractive without a spark of fire. But that's neither here nor there. My objection to Lord Hollidge's behavior is only that having known our family as long as he has, he should have paused and asked after our health."

Then she made a tsking sound and added, "What is this world coming to?" before calling out, "Good day, Lord Fenwick," as an old family friend of their father came toward them.

"Good day. Two Diamonds of the first water," he said.

Clarity cringed. If they had a penny for every time they'd heard that supposedly clever remark from someone who was not their brother, they would be rich as Croesus.

"How are you this lovely afternoon?" Lord Fenwick continued. "And you, Diamond, looking the spit and image of your sire."

"We are all well, thank you," Clarity responded. "And you, my lord?"

"Well, thank you. Tell your father I will see him at the club." Then he tipped his hat and was on his way.

"You see," Purity began. "That is how polite society passes."

Adam chuckled again. "Do you wish to hear that phrase from every acquaintance we pass?"

"No," Clarity said before her sister could. "It would drive me mad."

Purity sniffed. "That's not the point. Lord Hollidge was rude." She dug her elbow into Clarity's side. "I told you to help him behave better in public, but you refused."

How dare Purity admonish her. "You are the one who told him he wouldn't find a wife with his current churlish manners and too-serious attitude," Clarity pointed out. "And yet he has found one."

"I don't believe I said all that," Purity countered. "You must have said some of those things to him, for I never did."

They almost fell to bickering.

Adam whistled, and they stopped at once.

"That infernal noise," Purity scolded Adam. "Must you?"

"The point is Hollidge did find a woman, without either of you busybodies interfering," their brother pointed out. "Everyone believes he shall ask for her hand before autumn."

Clarity knew it for the truth but didn't like hearing it.

"As predicted," she said softly. "He has found a wife who won't be much fun, but at least there is no concern she wants him for his money or his title."

Purity nodded. "Let's forget about him, shall we? I believe I see your own beloved approaching."

For a moment, Clarity couldn't think about whom her sister was speaking, and then Lord Brennon came into view.

And the greetings started all over again. But try as she might, Clarity couldn't get out of her head the fanciful idea that she would much prefer riding beside Alex, even the somber man who had replaced her old friend.

The heat became unbearable with nary a breeze in London. Ladies had their fans out at all times, trying to move the stagnant air. Some were even seen in public with fewer petticoats than usually acceptable, their gowns hanging limply against their legs. Most refused any lightweight jacket or even a shawl, leaving their arms bare, no matter the time of day.

Alex was amazed at the laxity but appreciative of seeing so much female flesh.

When he caught sight of Clarity at a charity ball at Chiswick House, west of Town, his mouth fell open. She had on a wisp of sheer lace across her sleeveless deep orange satin bodice and a matching skirt of the finest, thin silk. Every man was gawking at her beauty, enhanced as it was by her dark sable hair.

For a moment, he, too, had to stare. How could she possibly be the same female who hadn't cared a damn about getting dirty?

"Shameless," Miss Brambury declared, seeing where his gaze had fallen.

Alex remained silent, escorting her to the other end of the room where the doors were open to the garden. He had tried not to think of Clarity outside in a garden, especially not with Brennon, who was obviously going to be announced as her intended any day.

Although Alex had not yet kissed Miss Brambury, not feeling compelled to and content to wait until their wedding day, he instinctively knew how it would be. And he was resigned to it. She wasn't a passionate person by nature, and he could accept that in exchange for a good partner.

Somehow, she was wearing dark satin with sleeves coming to just above her elbows and a high thick lace décolletage that allowed for no peeking at the tops of her breasts. She was fanning herself constantly, and he knew she had on every proper layer, both necessary and unnecessary, despite no one being able to tell.

Glancing back at Clarity, he thought her like an exotic bird. She was waving around her matching orange fan as she spoke animatedly to those in her party. She didn't look overheated in the least, despite all the men around her being hot with desire.

Including him.

Alex, who wore the lightest-weight neckcloth and the thinnest wool jacket over his fine lawn shirt, was pleased to see the ball's manager directing all the windows to be opened to alleviate the stuffy atmosphere.

After they partook of lemonade and greeted some of Miss Brambury's close acquaintances, they moved toward the back of the house and away from the increasingly crowded ballroom.

"Let's go outside," Miss Brambury suggested. "Until the night air manages to permeate the interior," she added.

Since her chaperone was a mere two steps behind, he agreed, hoping the garden would provide a modicum of coolness. Moreover, since they were easily six miles from Mayfair and London's many chimneys, the air was lacking the usual soot and smoke.

"Better?" Alex asked as they stepped onto a spacious stone veranda, beyond which were the Italian gardens, extensive pathways, and even the estate's own lake.

Behind them, many others were exiting Chiswick House as well. Soon, there were nearly as many guests outside as in, everyone glad the gathering wasn't at a stuffy four-story townhouse in Piccadilly but a large mansion with acreage upon which to roam.

While dozens of lanterns dotted the landscape, they were insufficient to keep from leaving pockets of darkness to which some guests now hurried.

"Shall we stroll down to the lake?" Miss Brambury asked, looking toward the brightest lit path.

Together, they trod upon a straight path through two rows of cedar trees. Then at a fork, they chose the way toward the canal-shaped lake and away from the wild Italianate gardens. At the end of the path was an arched, white stone bridge over the narrow arm of the lake.

Alex supposed it would be romantic, maybe even an opportunity to finally kiss Miss Brambury if they weren't being dogged by her devoted chaperone.

In any case, they didn't continue over the bridge as there was no other crossing by which to return. Halfway over, they turned and walked back by way of a bending, snake-like route, taking them alongside a hedgerow maze.

"It would be madness to enter at this time of night," he remarked.

"Yes, absolute lunacy," Miss Brambury agreed.

All at once, he heard Clarity's unmistakable voice cut loudly through the darkness and froze.

Since he still had Miss Brambury's hand clasped on his arm, she stumbled when he stopped short.

"What is it?" she demanded.

"Perhaps nothing," he said. But then he heard Clarity again and would swear she sounded in distress.

He lowered his arm, forcing Miss Brambury to release him.

"Will you excuse me?" he asked. "I suggest you and your chaperone return to the house." With that, he dove through the opening into the labyrinth.

As a child, Alex had liked mazes tremendously, having visited the large one at Hampton Court with his parents. He'd enjoyed the thrilling yet frightening feeling of being lost in the center of it. Eventually, his father had found him, and they'd gone for tea and cakes. Alex had begged to go back more than once.

All around him was quiet, muffled by the thick hedges. Another outburst of voices nearby made him halt, listening for Clarity's distinct tone. Then the sounds dimmed again as the other guests moved on, following a narrow path directly beside his, yet separate. At least he no longer feared Clarity had done something foolish like entering the maze alone, for there were most certainly others testing their abilities.

After a few minutes, Alex realized he was lost, but then he supposed they all were. That was the nature of a maze. Moreover, at night, the disorientation and difficulty were multiplied.

Then he heard a shriek, which he would swear was her voice, and his heart began to race. Or was she laughing?

"Clarity?" he called out before thinking how he ought to use her title.

If she were in trouble, he wanted her to know he was nearby.