Chapter 24

Chapter 24

As soon as Ernest's arms wrapped around her, Claire melted into him. Every bit of tension she had carried all day dissolved, and she went slack in his arms. Her mother's encounter left her rattled, but his presence made her feel as though she could actually handle it.

The ghost from her past would hopefully remain that.

Claire was an adult—she had made her own life away from her mother, and she surely got to decide whether her mother remained in it. This time, Claire got the choice.

"Come with me," she murmured, leading Ernest to her own chambers. Once there, they slipped inside, and she found solace in the privacy it would allow them.

"My mother came here looking for me," Claire confessed. "She was apparently invited by Lady Katherine, which is no surprise anymore. But she wishes to reconcile with me. I cannot let that happen. She can enter my life and utterly ruin it. She can undo every bit of hard work I have put into my life to get where I am today." Her voice cracked as she collapsed on the end of her bed.

"My mother is at the centre of everything wrong," Ernest hissed. "I will never let my mother ruin your life, Claire. This is your life, and she cannot take that from you. I am so sorry my mother has involved herself in your life in her attempt to punish me through becoming acquainted with you. She is playing a dangerous power game, and I do not know when she will stop."

"I do not know what my mother wants," Claire said. "Although …" She thought of the letter her mother had sent her and retrieved it from her desk. She brought it back to Ernest, and both perched respectfully on the end of her bed.

"See, there." Ernest pointed to a return address that mentioned a hotel in Bristol.

"That is near where I am from," Claire told him. There was a tight knot of anxiety in her chest that she could not get rid of, no matter how many times she tried to ease herself. "Will you attend with me tomorrow? I do not think I can do it alone."

"Of course, I will," he promised. "But I should retire to my own room, Claire. I cannot be caught in here. But before I go, I must inform you that anything my mother said about Lady Samantha is not true. She set us both up."

"I know, Lord Bannerdown."

He gave her a charming smile. "Please call me Ernest."

"I … Okay." She let out a nervous laugh.

"I wish for that as I want to tell you my feelings, Claire." He hesitated, stood before her. "My friend, Mr Courtenay has proposed to Lady Samantha, and the two of them are planning to marry. They have come to care for one another. But I care for you, Claire. And I swear I shall not abandon you in any way. These last several months have been made bright because of you. I have weathered everything because of you. Claire, you are brilliant and beautiful. Your voice brings me peace, and your smile makes every day feel as though it is the kiss of summer. You have not only brought Florence and me closer together, but you have given me new life. But that is only a life I wish to share with you. I cannot imagine one day without you here, and even just spending the day apart from you today has been torturous."

Claire's eyes widened. She had convinced herself that she was the only one who felt the way she did, but Ernest's confession spilled from his lips, beautiful, and exactly what she needed and wanted to hear.

"Claire," Ernest continued with a growing smile, "How do I compare thee to a summer's day?"

"Oh, Ernest." She laughed, stifling her mouth with her hand so they were not heard. "Ernest, I feel every part the same. I have grown to care so deeply for you, and I tried to deny my feelings for so long due to my position, and not wanting to be improper. I felt as though I brought forth a messy life, and I did not want you to have to be tangled up in it. But the more I tried to pull away, the more you tugged me in, and I was helpless to fall. I dream of you day and night and search for you in every room I step into. You are not only a guiding light for me, Ernest, but you are light. You have made what was a very lonely life good again. You have made my life something I love once again."

Her eyes met his, and he held her hands in his own, bringing them to his mouth to kiss. The soft brush of his lips was tender and sent shivers through Claire.

"You must sleep now, Claire," he told her. "And tomorrow, we shall confront your mother."

After Ernest left, Claire giddily climbed into bed, once again feeling that weight lift from her shoulders. With her head cushioned on the pillow, she could not fight the smile on her face. She believed Ernest, and for the first time in a long time, her future felt within reach.

***

Standing before her mother in the hotel room where Magdalene was staying, Claire waited for the woman to speak.

Ernest waited outside for her, and Claire was left looking in the mirror of herself, only twenty years older.

"I am very touched you have come to see me," Magdalene said. "After yesterday, I did not want to hope for anything at all."

"You turned up in the middle of the night with no warning," Claire shot back. "Of course, I was very shocked."

"I did write," Magdalene said. "Clearly, you received the letter, or you would not have found me here."

"Mother, what is it you wish to gain from reaching out to me?"

"I told you. I wish to reconcile, my dearest Claire."

"Why now? Why not even ten years ago? Why not when I debuted? Or when my father died, and I was left destitute? I needed a mother all that time ago, not now."

"Then have me as a friend," Magdalene offered. "Claire, I cannot undo the mistakes I made or redo the times I was not there for you, but you must understand that I had to leave. The baron was not a good man, and I knew of his debts. I knew he was a risk-taker, and there were many days when I felt as though I was one of those risks, destined to blow up. I had to leave, and France—where I left to—was no place for a young girl."

"So, you left the young girl behind to fend for herself," Claire muttered. "It is unthinkable. Do you know what your actions did to my father?"

"That is what I am trying to say, Claire," Magdalene stressed. "I did not cause those ways of his gambling and investing. Of his solitude. He was like that during our marriage. I simply could not take it anymore. I met Gerard when he was travelling through Bristol, and when he asked me to leave for France with him, I could hardly say no."

"You could hardly say yes!" Claire argued. "You had a child. You abandoned me!"

"I had to escape," Magdalene whispered.

"And was it worth it?"

Magdalene's eyes filled with tears. "I have returned to England with nothing, but at least I have not returned to the worthless, abusive man that your father was."

"He was so awful, and yet you felt very comfortable to leave me behind with him."

"I wished to take you. I made plans with Gerard to retrieve you once we were settled but …"

"But you forgot?" Claire guessed. "Because while you forgot me, Mother, I was trying to debut alone, my father forgot half the time that he had responsibilities as a baron, and when he died, his debts passed to me. I had to balance his debts, and when there was nothing left and I was destitute, I was forced to leave that life behind. I became this. Miss Claire Gundry, a governess to a wonderful young woman whom I could not bear to leave behind, and she is not even my own child. I do not understand how you could have done that to me."

"I cannot explain more than I already have," Magdalene whispered. "All I can promise is that I shall spend every day attempting to make up for what I have caused. Will you let me? I merely wish to know you are happy and perhaps meet with you occasionally."

"I do not know." Claire's admittance came through her tears. She had to look away from her mother's red-ringed eyes. "This is a massive shock to me. I thought myself no better than an orphan, really. My father was dead, and my mother did not want me. You do not get to want me now, for that is my decision to want you back in my life. Do you understand?"

Timidly, Magdalene nodded. "You have grown into a very headstrong woman, Claire. I am pro—"

"Do not say you are proud of me. I cannot bear to hear that. Because I practically raised myself when I should not have had to. My life should have been different."

"But does this life make you happy?"

Claire's mouth tightened. "I have found ways for it to do so. And that is enough for me." She turned to leave, unable to bear more of this. "Mother, I cannot forgive you for abandoning me, even if you have indeed changed your ways. I must ask you for some time to process your return to my life. I cannot guarantee the answer at the end of that time will be a yes, but I need it regardless."

Her mother—how strange it was to envision her as that—only nodded. "I shall await your correspondence then."

Claire nodded before she left the hotel room. There was no point in lingering, and she had nothing more to say. There was only that tight knot in her chest that she was scared would burst any moment. She said nothing as she approached Ernest, who looked at her, alarmed.

"What happened? Are you all right?"

She shook her head to indicate she could not yet speak. And she did not until they were in the carriage—and then she broke like a dam, and her tears spilled in uncontrollable bursts. Ernest was immediately there, holding her shoulders as she cried into him.

"Ernest, I have no idea what to do," she whispered. "This place has become a nightmare. Rumours, whispers, gossip, judgemental looks. I feel as though Lady Katherine has tricks up her sleeve that I cannot predetermine, but I will keep on worrying about how she will ruin my life further. First, Lord Simon and now my mother. I cannot endure this. Do—do I become yet another Claire? Start over elsewhere? Or do I help my mother and start anew with her and try to overcome the past hurt? Do I give in to Lord Simon?"

At that, Ernest's eyes darkened, and he leaned over her as he shook his head. "No, do not. That is not the answer."

His voice was low and hard in the confined carriage space. Yet as he loomed over her, Claire felt the safest she ever had done. She looked up, meeting his gaze.

Do you see it? she thought. Do you see the love I harbour for you in my eyes?

She could not say it the night before, too anguished by her mother's arrival, but she wanted to say it now. She wanted to hear him say it, too.

"Then if Lord Simon is not the answer," she murmured, "who is?"

"I am," he whispered. "I—as I said last night, Claire, I have admirations for you that I am not willing to deny any longer. I cannot keep on denying it. I am no master of words, not really, yet there are not enough poets in the world who could capture my love for you. I am a man who uses his hands to convey things. My work at the hospital, on the battlefield, proposals, gestures, so words are not my strong suit but … Claire, I understand that we both have pasts that haunt us. They seem to follow us around every corner, but I believe we can make something better. You think your only option is to return to your past, but there is another option. An entirely new future, created only by yourself."

Claire's mouth parted, words not coming out. "What are you trying to say, Lord Bannerdown?"

"I am attempting to ask for your hand, Claire." He laughed. "Albeit awkwardly, I am presuming. I do not want Lady Samantha or anybody other than you. I wish I had made that more obvious."

"Oh, you have," she murmured. "But I longed to tease you. However, I must say I am at a loss for words myself. I want to marry you, Ernest, but only if you are sure this is the life you want. I am a woman caught between two lives, it seems."

"And I am a man of the same situation."

"So perhaps we fit rather perfectly," she whispered.

"An earl and a governess." He laughed.

"A lady and a medic," she added.

"I love you, Claire Gundry."

"I love you, Ernest Barnes."

He shuddered above her at her use of his proper name. Not a lord, not an earl, simply a man who had once been a commoner and was forced into a noble life. But he was still himself underneath. To Claire, he was everything rolled into one man.

And together, there would be no further secrets, only a future where they both learned how to trust and begin anew.