28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

C lara wasn’t sure what she’d have done with herself over the next week if it weren’t for the charity musicale. Not that she had much to do for it, but it at least gave her something to think about, to talk about, to blame her constant preoccupation on.

Prior to the morning of the event, she’d assumed it would feel just like any other party or dinner or soiree she’d attended in London.

It didn’t.

Perhaps it was knowing that every person in the room represented money that would be helping someone else fulfill their needs. Perhaps it was the way some of those same people were deferring to her as if she was someone important.

Perhaps it was that she’d sent Eleanor an invitation and was somehow hoping the women would bring Hugh along with her.

The party spread through several rooms, and the atmosphere was interestingly divided among the groups congregating in each area. As this was a ticketed event in the name of raising money to help the less fortunate, anyone with enough pounds in their purse was welcome. Now everything from wealthy businessmen to powerful aristocrats grouped into the rooms’ various corners.

The evening was also different because it was the first one where Marmaduke had joined them. He stood to her left, looking about the room with wide eyes. “So, this is what you’ve been doing.”

Clara laughed. “Yes. A lot of standing around and talking. At least tonight there will be entertainment.”

As Duke had not been with her at the other events, there were many speculative looks in their direction.

“Honestly, Marmaduke, don’t you have any friends you can go visit with? You're scaring away the potential suitors.” Aunt Elizabeth pulled her fan out and flipped it open to hide her frustration.

“Tonight is about helping others, not myself.” Clara cast another look around but had yet to see Hugh. “A night away from the marriage mart would be a nice break.”

“That isn’t what you are meant to be doing.”

“Perhaps it’s what I should be doing.”

Mother stepped up to Clara’s right and took her hand. “Perhaps it is.” The smile she gave Clara was a little too knowing. “We’ll let tonight take your mind off of things.”

Aunt Elizabeth sighed and declared she was going to speak with the rest of the Virtuous Ladies Society.

Soon Lady Grableton was moving through the rooms, directing people to the chairs in the music room and connected drawing room. It wasn’t until Clara was seated near the front that a group in the back corner caught her eye.

Hugh was here.

But he wasn’t with Eleanor.

Instead, he was talking to a petite blonde in a simple but elegant dress. Two older men were on either side of the couple and Ambrose’s friend Lord Northwick was with them as well.

This had to be the woman Ambrose had warned her about.

If this woman could connect him to the well-dressed men flanking the talking couple, then she could obviously provide Hugh with something Clara never could. Money. Business. Credibility.

Clara didn’t continue to stare, didn’t want to catch his eye, didn’t want to alter this possibility for him. Turning in her seat, she kept her gaze on the piano at the front of the room and the man situating himself at the keys.

Lady Grableton welcomed everyone and asked the society members to stand. When Clara didn’t move from her seat, the countess gave her a curious look. She didn’t stumble over her words, however, as she introduced the opera singer for tonight’s performance. A lovely woman with a soft smile and kind eyes joined the pianist.

Clara was certain her singing was breathtaking. At least the reactions around her and Marmaduke’s rapt expression seemed to indicate it was such. She barely recognized it. All Clara could think about was the fact that she didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong in London, didn’t belong in this drawing room.

High society wasn’t a world she knew, nor one she wanted to know.

It was time for her to go home.

Clara’s determination to go home was not as easy as she’d hoped. None of her family was willing to entertain the idea, even though Mother seemed to understand why she’d lost her determination to find a marriage that would please her parents.

As she’d never talked about Hugh with her mother, she had to wonder if the house had been more aware of her time in the back drawing room than she’d thought.

Still, she was determined to go home. If her family wouldn’t help her, she had a feeling she knew who would.

As she’d been granted use of the carriage on multiple occasions, no one questioned her request to be taken once more to St. Anne’s Limehouse.

No one was in the church when she entered, and Clara made her way toward the front to stand prayerfully in front of the altar. The Lord had not granted her the successes she’d wanted when she came to London, but she was certain she was going home having gained what He knew she needed.

An older man entered from the door behind the vestry. Clara had met him once before and knew him to be Eleanor’s father.

“Miss Woodbury.” The man slid his spectacles from his face. “Was Eleanor expecting you today?”

“No.” Clara shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid I’m here to receive solace rather than give it today.”

He picked up a hook and opened one of the front box pews. Clara entered and gratefully sank on the padded bench.

“What is it you need from our church today?” The pastor sat on the other end of the bench, looking forward to the altar instead of staring down Clara.

“I was hoping Eleanor would know how I could find transportation home.”

“Are you running toward or away from something?”

“Both, I think. I’d like to think I’m running toward the rest of my life and away from what I thought it would be.” Clara took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And perhaps there’s a person I need to leave behind as well.”

“I see.” He cleared his throat.

The door from the vestibule opened behind them, and Mr. Porter looked over his shoulder. “Ah,” he said. “I believe God is in the mood to answer prayers today.”

He stood and slid out of the box as Clara turned to see who had come in. It was Eleanor, but she wasn’t alone. Lady Grableton was walking beside her. Both women stopped their conversation and rushed down the aisle.

“Clara,” Eleanor gasped out as she joined her in the box. “What’s wrong?”

“Your charity—” Clara turned to Lady Grableton. “Or I suppose it is your charity, isn’t it?”

The older lady sat gracefully on the bench and smiled. “Not really. I’m just honored to assist with it. We raised a lot of funds last night, which is fortunate as they have recently chosen to make a change to their financial structure.”

“What is this charity does, exactly?”

Eleanor sighed. “I can’t tell you. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“What do you think it does?” Lady Grableton asked.

Clara put together everything she’d learned from Eleanor, Hugh, and Ambrose. “I know it has something to do with the ton. And children.”

“Yes, it does. Eleanor is correct, we have been sworn to secrecy, but I do believe I can tell you that it helps ladies who find themselves in a treacherous position.”

Clara’s shoulder had been cried on by enough women who found themselves with child and without a husband to guess the sort of people they helped. The particulars were not important.

What was important was that women like that frequently needed to get out of town.

“Can you help me get home?”

Eleanor gasped. “Why? I thought . . .” She sighed. “Well, I thought you and Hugh were creating something special, but I should have known there was a problem when you seemed to want me to be the one to get him there last night.”

Clara nodded.

Eleanor winced and clasped Clara’s hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t come. I just . . . well, I don’t know what to wear or how to act at those things. It simply seems a waste of everyone’s time to try to change that.”

“Was he there?” Lady Grableton asked Clara after giving Eleanor a questioning look.

“Yes. And he was sitting with someone else. Someone who can help him get everything he wants.”

“What about what you want?”

What about what Clara wanted? “I’m not even sure what that is now.”

Eleanor didn’t look happy with that answer. “You aren’t?”

What Clara wanted was another chance to see if she and Hugh could have made it work. She wanted to have gone down to that drawing room instead of to a ball. But as Ambrose had said, nothing they could do would undo things that had already been done.

Lady Grableton took Clara’s hand. “I can get you home, my dear. And I will pray that you find peace there.”

Eleanor still wasn’t happy. “I don’t understand this. I worked so hard to get you together.”

Clara and Lady Grableton both looked to Eleanor whose cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Well, I did. Hugh is always so . . . practical. You made him feel something.”

“Unfortunately, that doesn’t build him a business.”

“There’s more to life than business.”

Lady Grableton laughed. “Spoken like a woman who doesn’t know what it’s like not to have provision.”

Clara grinned. “I don’t think you’ve experienced that either.”

“No, but I was born to an aristocrat. We are well aware of the tug-of-war between desire and practicality.”

Clara knew this conversation was at its end. She couldn’t let them convince her to try to stop Hugh from making the best decision for his future.

Her mother was nearly beside herself with worry when she got home, worried Clara had done something desperate, like take the stage to the nearest large town.

Even Aunt Elizabeth couldn’t argue with Clara’s plan to ride home in Lady Grableton’s personal carriage. With Clara definitely going home, Mother decided to pack her trunk as well. There wouldn’t be room for everything in the carriage, but they made arrangements for the rest to be sent later. Clara didn’t need a lot of ball gowns in Eldham.

Her first night back in her own room was a bittersweet feeling.

But she knew it was the first day of the rest of her life.