Page 32 of The Duke’s Impossible Match

Clara stared at him curiously, but did not wish to discuss the matter in front of Lionel.

“Very well. I do apologize, Sir Lionel, but it seems as though I am already engaged. Perhaps another time.”

“Yes, perhaps.” Lionel inclined his head. “Should another event occur that I think will be of interest to you, I shall stop by again---presuming that you have no previous engagement, of course.” Lionel directed these words to Gerald, as though setting down a warning.

“That will be most welcome. Thank you for calling,” Clara said. Alfred thanked him as well. Lionel and Gerald nodded to each other stiffly. Lionel exited the room, he and Alfred sharing a short conversation at the door. Clara took the opportunity to speak to Gerald in a low voice.

“I do not have any recollection of this invitation. Did you invent it to prevent me from attending the public lecture with Sir Lionel?”

“Certainly not,” he replied in a firm tone, and his lips became pinched at the corners. “It must have slipped my mind. But attending a lecture with another man would not serve us in convincing the ton of our courtship.”

“Perhaps not, although there was no suggestion from Sir Lionel that it would have been anything other than an intellectual pursuit. And I should remind you that once our agreement has ended, I will be free to accept invitations from any gentlemen I choose.”

“Of course,” Gerald replied thinly. Clara studied his expression, looking for any chink in his armor, but she could find none. The fact that he seemed so unmoved by things disappointed her. Was there no fire in him? Was there no jealousy? If she saw the flare of envy in his eyes, then perhaps it would be easier to navigate her own feelings.

Once Sir Lionel left, Alfred turned back to Clara and Gerald. They spoke for some time about the progress of repairs at the orphanage, as well as Clara’s recent visit to Clemont Hall. Upon describing the gardens, Alfred beamed.

“They sound like wonderful grounds, the perfect setting for a wedding celebration,” he said. Clara and Gerald wore the same awkward smile, and Gerald left soon after this. Clara settled into a chair with her sketchbook, but it was difficult to concentrate on anything other than Gerald.

Mary entered with some tea and crumpets, along with a warm smile.

“So you had two callers today,” she said, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

“I did. Sir Lionel Mercer invited me to a public lecture, although Gerald and I already have a previous engagement so I was unable to accept his invitation.”

“From what your father says, Sir Lionel seems quite keen on you. What a turnaround it is.”

“Yes, although of course my attention is focused on Gerald,” Clara said.

“Of course.” Mary sipped her tea and then placed her hands in her lap. “There is nothing wrong with having a choice, however.”

“No, unless that choice is difficult.”

“Is the choice difficult?”

Clara thought about it a moment. “I do not believe so, but both men are different, and would offer my life different shapes. However, I feel bad about thinking of Sir Lionel as an alternative, only to be pursued should Gerald decline to offer me a proposal. It seems rude to think of him as a second choice.”

“The only thing that matters is that the choice is made eventually. If Gerald does not propose, then he was not the right man for you. The proper companion comes to us eventually, Clara. I know that well enough with Alfred. He may have been my second husband, but he was my first love and he came along at the right time for me. Just wait and see how things unfold. They have a way of working out,” she said, placing a reassuring hand on Clara’s arm.

Clara smiled with thanks, although she wasn’t sure Mary understood properly, which was no fault of her own. Clara had not been entirely truthful with her. If she developed genuine feelings for Gerald, would it even be fair to allow Sir Lionel to court her? Would she simply have to wait for the feelings to fade away? How long would she have to wait?

She was dreadfully afraid she knew the answer.

Chapter Thirteen

“Eleanor, next Wednesday we are to attend a garden party hosted by the Winthorpes,” Gerald said, wasting no time in making the arrangement to prove to Clara that it had not been an improvised invention, although of course that’s exactly what it had been.

Gerald was not proud of it, but the words slipped out of his mouth before he could do anything to stop them. The thought of her attending a lecture with Sir Lionel pricked something inside him. It was as though sand coursed beneath his skin and rested in his throat. Watching her dance with him was one thing, but attending a lecture? Where else would it lead?

And of course Alfred’s efforts to encourage a proposal hadn’t escaped his attention. It wasn’t his right to be jealous, of course. The situation with Clara was only temporary. Soon enough he would be setting her free like a bird, and she would soar. Only she would soar with Sir Lionel, and this rankled him, even if he couldn’t identify exactly why.

Eleanor’s face lit up at the news.

“How wonderful! I’m glad I have time to pick out an appropriate outfit. Will Clara be attending?” she asked.

“She will.”

“Good. I do like Clara. It was quite fortunate of you to meet her, Gerald. There has been a swift change in your demeanor, all for the better, of course. I feel that there may have been something significant missing from your life all these years, and now you have met her. May I suggest something?”