Chapter 27

27

WILLIAM

W illiam stared at his sister-in-law, and Clara took a step back, gently pulling herself from his embrace.

"Charlotte," he acknowledged as her gaze shifted between the two of them.

She offered a smile. "I woke early today and was told the roses were in bloom." There was no stiffness about her. In fact, her initial surprise had given way entirely. "I can return later."

"That is unnecessary, Mrs. Yorke." Clara brushed her cheeks, trying to regain her characteristic composure. "I must cut flowers for the rooms, but I will avoid the roses." She looked up at William, then curtsied. "Your Grace."

He nodded and forced his eyes to remain on his sister-in-law's, though he was aware of Clara's every step.

Charlotte approached him. "Now that I am here, I think I would prefer a little stroll in the hedges." She linked her arm through his and tugged him along. "Would you care to join me? "

He took a few fumbling steps to keep up with her. "Do I have a choice in the matter?"

"No," she replied.

"I gathered not." They turned out of the gardens and into the hedgerows.

"Now," she said sunnily. "Speak."

"Speak of what?"

She shot him an annoyed sidelong glance, but there was no real ill humor in it. William liked Charlotte, and he was grateful to see evidence that her discovery of him with Clara had not destroyed her opinion of him entirely.

"Do not pretend with me, William. I am far too shrewd. I have suspected there was something between you and that maid since our arrival. Now, I merely have evidence—evidence you would be a fool to refute."

"I have not attempted to do so."

"Good. Then, speak."

He blew a breath through his lips. "What is there to say? You know as well as I that I cannot follow wherever my feelings lead."

"Because you must marry Lady Cassandra? For Silas's sake?"

"Not only for his sake."

"Then for whose?" Her voice contained mild curiosity, as though they were discussing the weather instead of the crux of William's troubles.

"I am a duke, Charlotte. That is equal parts opportunity and responsibility. I have more than my heart to consider when it comes to matrimony."

" More than your heart, yes. But surely you needn't disregard it entirely."

He stole a glance at her. Her marriage to Anthony had entailed the union of two people separated in station more than most would consider suitable. She had come of genteel enough family, though. The divide between the two of them had been a mere crack compared to the chasm that separated William and Clara.

"Things are already in motion with Lady Cassandra," he said. He could not allow himself to let Charlotte persuade him there was truly any possibility of a future with Clara, for he knew better.

"And do you think your heart may regard her one day as it now regards the maid?"

"Clara," he corrected as they turned out of the hedges.

She cocked a brow at him, amused.

He sighed. "I do not know. It seems impossible. But there is no logical reason why it shouldn't. She is everything I should want in a wife."

"And what of the m—what of Clara? Would she not make a good wife?"

"She is a housemaid."

"That is not what I mean. You are not a lovelorn fool, William, giving your heart to a pretty face. If it reaches for Clara, there must be good reason for that."

He thought of all the qualities he admired in Clara beyond her beauty: her strength, her compassion, her loyalty, her capability.

He stopped and turned toward Charlotte. "Do you mean to say I should disregard our difference in station entirely? You make it seem so much simpler and easier than it is."

Charlotte's clear gaze settled on him. "It is neither. It is a decision I do not envy you. But it is still a decision."

"A decision that would thrust Clara into a society ready to ridicule and find fault with her. She cannot wish for that life. Not to mention what it would mean for Silas—it would severely prejudice his chance for exoneration. Marrying Lady Cassandra, on the other hand, would be a leap toward that, not to mention propelling our family to a place we have never before been."

"I happen to like where we are," she said with a teasing smile. The smile faded, and she sighed sympathetically. "All I mean to tell you is that, whatever you decide, I will support you. But the joy I have experienced from marriage to your stubborn, impossible brother is not something I would sacrifice for any position or the most illustrious reputation."

She held his gaze a moment, then her eyes began to twinkle. "After that confession, I find myself itching to be with Anthony, so I will leave you here to ponder your predicament in peace."

She squeezed his arm, then released it and left him alone.

The conversation with Charlotte persisted in William's mind all day and into the evening. He did not know how he could deny his feelings for Clara, but neither did he feel he could consign Silas to a continued future of hiding and danger or give up the goals he had spent months pursuing.

He had lectured Silas again and again about their duty to the Yorke name; how could he then choose his feelings over family and duty, all while consigning his brother to unnecessary turmoil and peril? It would be utter hypocrisy and selfishness.

But could he open his heart to Lady Cassandra?

The more he tried to force the issue, however, the more his heart resisted, and he joined his family at the lodge that night feeling more frustrated than ever.

"Four days until the ball, is it not?" Frederick asked as he poured from a decanter in the sitting room .

William nodded. In five or six days, many of the guests, including Lady Cassandra, would depart Rushlake, which meant his time for decision-making was drawing to a close.

"Might you not change it to a masquerade?" Silas stole the cup Frederick had just poured and winked at him as he took a gulp. "Then I could join in the amusement for once."

"Not a chance."

"Out of the question."

William and Anthony glanced at one another after their simultaneous responses.

Anthony at least understood the responsibility William felt for Silas's well-being. But whatever sacrifices Anthony might make in the interest of Silas's freedom—and he had made sacrifices—he had Charlotte to comfort him and see him through.

"I am to be cooped up here forever, then?" Silas teased, but there was something in his tone, a hint of frustration William could not ignore.

"Of course not," William replied.

"William will propose to Lady Cassandra soon enough," Frederick said, guarding the glass of brandy he was pouring from Silas, "and you will be well on your way to attending whatever routs, parties, and balls you set your heart on."

William's muscles tensed, and the eyes in the room all swung to him.

"You think she will agree to help me?" Silas asked.

William inclined his head. "She has expressed sympathy for your plight."

The door opened, and Edmund walked in.

"Edmund," Silas said jovially. He swiped the freshly poured glass before Frederick could grasp it and took it over to Edmund.

Edmund received it with an absent expression of thanks and made a quick bow to the general room. "Could I have a quick word, Your Grace?" He set the glass on the nearest table.

William rose from his favorite chair. "Of course." He followed his friend from the room and into the hall.

Edmund's frown was deep. "I have come by information I felt it incumbent to share with you."

"What information is that?"

"The housemaid you saved at the market?"

William tensed but nodded to indicate he knew to whom Edmund referred.

"She is wanted for thievery, Your Grace. That is why she was dismissed as a lady's maid. She stole from her employer."

William did not respond immediately. He had no trouble guessing how Edmund had come to know such a thing, though. "I take it you had this directly from the Redgraves?"

Edmund's brows snapped together. "He told you as well?"

"No. Clara told me herself."

Edmund drew back. "And you did not dismiss her?"

"No, Edmund. Did Redgrave tell you the rest of the story?"

"What more is there to tell? She stole valuables from her employer, Your Grace. How can you give her free rein of your estate after knowing that? Much less when you have so many important guests with their belongings at risk."

"Clara worked as a lady's maid for Lady Redgrave for years before her marriage to Lord Redgrave. The man pushed himself upon Clara, and when she rebuffed him, his pride was so injured, he falsely accused her of stealing."

Edmund's brows shot up. "The charges are untrue, then?"

William grimaced. "Not entirely. Clara was understandably upset at her treatment and at the prospect of being dismissed without a character, so she took his pocket watch."

Edmund looked at William in silence, mouth agape. "Why would you not tell me this? "

"I only discovered it myself recently, and you must admit, Edmund, that you have been set against her from the start. Do you know that I lost the signet ring at the inn the night I met her? It was she who found it and returned it to me—within minutes."

Edmund stared at him for a moment, then scrubbed a hand over his face and began pacing. "I have been set against her because I feared the damage she might do to your reputation just as we are working so hard to build trust and confidence in you." He stopped and looked at William, brows knit in incredulity. "Why are you so set on protecting a housemaid, Your Grace? I cannot for the life of me understand it."

William forced himself to meet his friend's gaze. He had promised not to keep more secrets from him, and he meant to be good for his word. But that did not make the confession an easy one.

He hadn't even managed to say anything, however, when Edmund's stare shifted from a questioning one to something more aghast. "You…you…"

William held his gaze, aware of the guilt in his face.

Edmund shut his eyes and rubbed them with his fingers.

"She was the one who spotted Silas when he returned," William explained. "She thought he was trying to break in to Rushlake and came to inform me. He and I thought it wisest to make use of her knowledge of his presence. She has been helping keep him hidden. And fed. It has required a degree of cooperation between the two of us that has…" He struggled with how to characterize precisely what that cooperation had done.

Edmund's hand dropped to his side, but it was a few seconds before he met William's gaze. "Help me understand, Your Grace. Is your relationship with her an infatuation? Or do you fancy yourself in love with her? "

William's lips pressed together at his friend's characterization of his feelings. "There is no fancying, Edmund. If only that were the case…. But"—he spoke before Edmund could—"you needn't fear. I know my duty. And I know what is required to save Silas."

Edmund grimaced, but there was sympathy in it this time. "Forgive my reaction. It is no wonder you kept so much from me. I am merely finding it difficult to balance my position as your advisor and our relationship as friends."

William smiled ruefully. "I understand. And I do not fault you for it. I employed you to help me reach a goal, and you have done your part. It is I who am falling short."

He shook his head vehemently. "You have done marvelously, Your Grace. I can see the guests growing in admiration for you before my very eyes, and it is no surprise. They merely needed the opportunity to see you filling your uncle's shoes."

"If only that were enough to help Silas."

Edmund blew out a breath. "If only Lord Drayton could be reasoned with. How easy it would be to ride to Underwood and settle everything."

"The only sort of reason that man responds to is money and power," William replied.

Edmund sighed.

William looked to the side, where Silas stood in the doorway to the sitting room.

"Silas," William said in surprise.

He smiled. "We are about to begin a game of billiards—in teams. Would you two care to join?"

Edmund's expression was uncertain, but William clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Come. We could both use the distraction. "

"True enough," Edmund replied. "But I refuse to be on His Grace's team. He is terrible at billiards."

"A completely slanderous statement!" William complained as Silas popped his head back into the sitting room. The others soon emerged, and they all made their way to the lodge's small billiard room upstairs.

William kept his gaze on Silas as the group took the stairs amidst laughter and slandering one another's billiard skills. He sincerely hoped that the joy of seeing his brother free would sustain him through a marriage he didn't particularly want.