18. Chapter Eighteen

T he note confirming Mr. Pitt’s intention to take Clara out for a ride was written in fine, elegant script. The lines were neat and well-spaced without a splotch of stray ink or a smeared letter.

Clara smiled at the note in approval before inspecting her reflection with a critical eye.

She would have Mr. Pitt’s attentions for a solid hour today, and she needed to make it matter. His change from barely to definitely interested had to be a sign that God meant this man for her.

Still, Clara wouldn’t fool herself into thinking the matter was settled. She needed to put effort into strengthening their connection until he was ready to make a declaration of intent.

This was progress, though, and she thanked God for it. That she’d also been granted success in the eyes of her aunt by gaining the attention of Lady Grableton was an added blessing she hadn’t even thought to pray for.

Of course, that lofty attention would likely make her aunt think they should aim much higher than Mr. Pitt, but Clara had already started entertaining the connection and even Aunt Elizabeth wouldn’t be rude enough to stop it now.

With a last brush of her skirts, Clara departed her room and went to the drawing room to await his arrival.

Once she was seated on the settee, there was nothing to occupy her hands or her mind. She should have brought a book or some embroidery with her. Her thoughts were her only current company, and they were making her more nervous than she already was.

“What are you doing?”

Clara’s head snapped up. Aunt Elizabeth stood in the door to the drawing room, face twisted into a look of surprised horror.

“Preparing for my ride with Mr. Pitt,” Clara said slowly. “His note said he would be here at half past four.”

“Precisely.” Aunt Elizabeth waved her hands wildly, indicating Clara should follow her from the room. “He’ll be here any moment.”

“That’s why I’m waiting here.” Clara stood slowly, a frown marring the perfect picture her maid has worked so hard to achieve.

Once Clara was in reach, Aunt Elizabeth slid her arm around Clara’s and hurried her out of the room. “You can’t be waiting on the man.”

“Whyever not?”

“Because then he’ll know you’re interested.”

Clara rather thought her bold confession at the party the other night had already given him that idea, but her aunt didn’t need to know about that. She cleared her throat. “I am interested, Aunt Elizabeth. Why wouldn’t I indicate so?”

“Because a man without curiosity is dull.”

“I . . . what?” Clara could do nothing but gape at the older woman as they crossed the front hall to move deeper into the house.

Aunt Elizabeth patted Clara comfortingly on the arm. “A man needs to be curious enough about you to put in a little bit of pursuit. If he is without curiosity, he will most likely be too dimwitted to sufficiently provide for you. It probably indicates he is dull as well, but one can work around that.”

Clara tried to follow her aunt’s logic but got nowhere. “He’s taking me for a ride in order to get to know me. Is that not a show of curiosity?”

“It is a show of good manners, and, at best, a modicum of sense.” Aunt Elizabeth sniffed. “You are residing in the home of a viscount. A man would be a fool not to attempt to gain entrance and possible audience.”

Clara stumbled to a stop. “Are you saying Mr. Pitt is calling upon me in an effort to get to Ambrose?”

“I’m rather surprised more men haven’t attempted to use this avenue.”

Clara’s mouth gaped open in shock.

“It’s Ambrose’s fault, really. If he would attend more events with us more people would be reminded that you have a titled connection that would be worth marrying into.”

“Aunt Elizabeth!”

The older woman carried on as if Clara had not just expressed her very justifiable outrage. “I suppose that is in Mr. Pitt’s favor, that he has dared what no one else has yet, but that’s no reason to toss away proper behavior.”

“Wouldn’t proper behavior be waiting for him in the drawing room?”

“Hardly, my dear. It’s proper to leave the man waiting for ten minutes. No more than fifteen and no less than five.”

“But why?”

“So you can make a proper entrance, of course. You want him to sit and think on you, to create in his mind an idea of the outing you are soon to venture on. Then, when you appear in the door, you will be as if his very imaginings have come to life. You will be, in a way, the lady of his dreams.”

“What if I don’t match the lady he imagines?” There had been more than one expectation of ladies that Clara had not managed to live up to since arriving in London. “It would be better for him to spend the time getting to know who I actually am.”

“Only if you intend to scare him off.”

“Aunt Elizabeth!” Clara ripped her arm away and stood, staring at her aunt in the middle of the dining room where she’d been led.

Aunt Elizabeth waved her hand in the air. “That isn’t an aspersion on you, directly, my dear. It’s best for any woman if a man becomes infatuated with some imaginary version first.”

“But what about when he finds you are not his perfect creation?”

“It is your job to make sure he never does. Once you are married, there will be plenty of time to be yourself when he is not about.”

“I do not think—”

The butler appeared in the door, giving no indication that he found it odd for them to be in the dining room when there was no meal being served for several hours. “Mr. Pitt is in the drawing room, my lady.”

“Excellent.” Aunt Elizabeth pushed Clara into a chair and pointed at a clock in the corner. “Five minutes, at least, Clara. Then you can make your way to the drawing room.”

And then she was gone. Leaving Clara staring at the door in shock.

If this was what was required for a young lady to have a successful Season, Clara was even more convinced that a London lifestyle and a society marriage weren’t for her. Such machinations could not allow a person to fully embrace their God-given mission.

With a glance at the clock that had barely budged, she stuck her nose in the air and strode from the dining room. Sitting about in an empty room for five minutes while the man she had chosen to marry waited to see her in another room didn’t make the least bit of sense to her, and she refused to participate in such silliness.

As she entered the hall, movement on the stairs distracted her from her intentions to cross straight to the drawing room. Mother was descending and Clara waited until the woman was standing in front of her wearing a wide smile.

“I thought you would be waiting in the drawing room. I’d intended to be down here with you, but I was somewhat delayed in my preparations.”

“I was in the drawing room,” Clara said softly, “but Aunt Elizabeth took me to the dining room with instructions to make Mr. Pitt wait.”

Mother frowned. “Oh?” She bit her lip. “Perhaps we should delay our arrival, then.”

“Why?”

“Your aunt is far more aware of the intricacies of London manners than I am. I confess my single Season was a long time ago and obviously not successful in the idea of marriage.”

“How fortunate for me,” Clara muttered, “or I would not be standing here now.”

Her mother sighed and shook her head. “Perhaps we should return to the dining room?”

“Seeing as I have no intention of building a life in London, I do not see why I should attempt to establish a relationship that follows London’s manners, particularly when they make no sense.”

“But Mr. Pitt will expect it.”

“If Mr. Pitt is the man of sense I think him to be, he will appreciate my promptness.” She winced. “Or my minimal lateness as the case may be now.”

Clara took a deep breath and forced a bright smile. “Besides, this conversation has likely delayed me the requisite five minute minimum so I may present myself now even according to Aunt Elizabeth’s strange rules.”

Mother sighed and placed a heavy hand on Clara’s shoulder. “She only wants the best for you.”

“What is best is a matter of opinion. I have intentional and valid reasonings for selecting Mr. Pitt, but she is disregarding those and is determined to direct me toward other candidates.”

Mother winced. “She wants you to have options, dear.”

“But none of her options meet my criteria. It’s as if she didn’t listen to my preferences at all.”

Mother twisted her hands together. “Aunt Elizabeth has not had the chance to see a different side of life as you and I have. I’m afraid she is only aware of one way for a woman to ensure her future.”

It was all well and good for Mother to believe Aunt Elizabeth cared only for Clara’s future wellbeing, but Clara herself wasn’t as convinced. As she was well on her way to ensuring a future that would satisfy everyone concerned, though, there was no reason for her to ruin her mother’s opinion of her sister.

“I’m certain you are correct,” she said with only a minimal twinge at the lie. With a smile and a nod, she stepped toward the drawing room. “I shouldn’t keep Mr. Pitt waiting any longer.”

After taking a moment to smooth her skirts and repair her composure, Clara stepped into the drawing room. Mr. Pitt scrambled to his feet, obviously having expected her to leave him waiting for a while yet.

Which meant he’d been in London long enough to know the peculiar habits women like Aunt Elizabeth had created.

It did not mean her aunt had been correct.

Clara gave the man a wide, welcoming smile and he smiled in return before taking her hand and placing a light kiss in the air above the knuckle.

“Miss Woodbury, you are a delight that would have been worth waiting an hour for.”

What was this obsession people in London seemed to have with not being on time? It seemed exceptionally rude.

And wouldn’t Mr. Lockhart laugh to know she was thinking such a thing?

She curled her hand into a fist until the nails bit into her palm. There was absolutely no reason for the tradesman to be entering her mind just now.

Returning her attention to Mr. Pitt, she gave him a slight curtsy. “How fortunate we need not delay our time together, then.”

“Indeed. My phaeton is out front. Shall we go for a ride?”

“I would be delighted.”

Clara’s mind swirled with the reminders from her aunt and mother as well as the lessons from Mr. Lockhart and Eleanor. The occasionally conflicting ideas had her so distracted, she floated through the climb into the carriage without much attention. She needed to do better.

It was imperative that Mr. Pitt enjoy her company. While she would prefer he do so while she was acting entirely as herself, this Season had taught her that certain expectations had to be met before most people were ready to get to know an individual.

Despite how Aunt Elizabeth seemed to think a connection to a viscount was a powerful thing, in Clara’s experience, being the daughter of a country vicar was easier. Back home, people were inclined to accept her company and even seek it out. There were always invitations and opportunities.

In the billiard room and at dinner, Mr. Lockhart had allowed Ambrose and Duke to start the conversation. Joining an established topic had also worked at the party. Hoping for similar success, Clara sat primly while Mr. Pitt settled into his seat and took control of the horses.

They rolled down the street and around the corner and still, he didn’t speak.

Was there a different rule when only two people were present? Was there some expectation when a lady was present that Aunt Elizabeth hadn’t warned her about? Ambrose certainly didn’t wait for Clara to set the topic, but it might be rude for a suitor to address her first.

The silence was dragging on far too long, broken only by the clinking of the harness buckles and the wheels clattering over the cobblestone. Clara jumped into the first topic of conversation she could think of. “The weather is lovely today. The air seems especially clear after yesterday’s rain.”

Mr. Pitt nodded, giving her a warm glance. “It is God smiling on our outing, no doubt.”

Of course he would recognize God’s hand in the weather. Mr. Pitt was going to be a man of the cloth, after all. “What a wonderful idea.” Clara turned her body slightly, so she could more easily give her attention to Mr. Pitt. “I have often thought particularly fine days were like a smile or hug from the Lord. Of course, there is beauty in the rain as well. Crops cannot grow with nothing but sunshine.”

“Er, yes. Of course.” Mr. Pitt turned onto a path through a large park. “I noticed Lady Grableton speaking to you last night. I wasn’t aware you had met.”

“We met just last night. She expressed an interest in my charity endeavors.” Clara still couldn’t believe last night had gone as well as it had. Today was going excellently as well. If everything came together this smoothly for her charity project, life in London would be as perfect as possible.

“It is a rare woman who takes such an interest during her debut season.”

A burst of pleasure sent a tinge of heat to her cheeks. “I believe our service is due to God no matter where we are in life.”

“Er, yes. Of course.”

The conversation lapsed as they greeted another couple going in the opposite direction on the carriage road.

When they began to talk again, the topics fell into the polite and perfunctory ones she’d endured far too often since arriving in London. Wasn’t the point of a ride such as this to go beyond such superficial subjects? They would hardly have a more private moment to get to know one another.

She found herself paying more attention to the way the steady click clack of hooves marked the even spacing of the trees than Mr. Pitt’s observations of the other horses and carriages.

Such disconnection would not further her goal.

“I was particularly moved by Sunday’s sermon at St. Marylebone. Is that where you attend as well?” It was a somewhat abrupt change of conversational direction, but Clara had to do something.

“No. I live in St. George’s parish.” He gave a solemn nod. “The services there have been more enlightening of late as well.”

“Oh?” Clara’s heart beat a little faster. Finally, there were getting somewhere.

“Indeed.” Mr. Pitt greeted another couple, then turned a conspiratorial grin Clara’s way. “Take that couple, for instance.”

“Miss Jenkins and Mr. Grammery?”

“Yes. He was seen sitting in her family’s box this past Sunday.”

“Oh?” How else was Clara to respond to that?

Mr. Pitt nodded. “I would imagine an announcement is soon to be forthcoming. If not, she might as well return to the country for the Season as everyone will wonder why whenever they see her.”

“Oh.” She had certainly sat through enough drawing room teatimes and charity meetings to realize people in London did not have the same view of gossip that those in her country parish tended to have.

Not that the ladies back home would hesitate to share someone else’s particularly interesting or scandalous business, but they did it in hushed tones and with a haste that indicated they knew what they were doing was questionable and wanted to move on as fast as possible.

In London, it seemed a matter of pride. Entire conversations revolved around news and the ensuing speculation. Entire papers were published to share the on-dits.

That had to be why Mr. Pitt felt comfortable with this gleeful tittle-tattle. He was, after all, currently a man of London. He was also a man of God, though, so she waited for him to bring the topic back around to more spiritual matters.

He didn’t.

He did, however, have something to share about the next couple they passed. And the next.

Finally, they entered a stretch where there was not an oncoming stream of gossip inspiration. Clara used the opportunity to jump in. Without a third party about, she could not truly utilize the rules of Mr. Lockhart’s interactions so she would revert to her normal directness.

“I have heard you are in line for a living?”

“Yes. As a third son it is the best my family can do for me. I am pleased, though, that the current rector appears in good health. I have many years to remain in London before being confined to the country and its daily duties.”

“You are not anxious to take up the work, then?”

He laughed. “As the daughter of a vicar, I’m sure you are aware of all the tasks aside from preparing sermons and overseeing services that fall upon the shoulders of a country clergyman.”

“I am indeed.”

He nodded. “I would like to delay those distractions for a while so that I may focus on other, more pleasurable endeavors.”

The unease that had been growing in Clara settled. How fortunate that she had looked in a book and discovered a man that found such enjoyment in the studying of God's Word and the contemplation of its application that he treasured the time he had before other more practical duties would infringe upon his study.

“You shall need a partner that will shoulder some of those duties, then, and allow you ample time for study and reflection.”

“Indeed.” He gave her a long, deep look. “A wife that will relieve the more burdensome aspects of clergy life would be an asset. Perhaps even allow me to be away from the parish for a time on occasion.”

“Indeed. My father would occasionally travel to speak at other parishes when they were between clergy or simply in need of temporary assistance. Mother and I would oversee many of his ongoing duties during those times.”

“I’m sure you did so excellently.”

“I considered it a blessing even if the work was difficult.”

It had been an honor and where she had learned to truly appreciate her ability to help those in her parish. How fine it was to know Mr. Pitt was of a similar mind.

Once more, Mr. Pitt gave her a smile. “That is good to know, indeed.”

Clara smiled as well, confident that they’d made progress toward an understanding. Yes, indeed, God must be smiling on her plans.