Page 39 of The Duke’s Impossible Match

Later that afternoon, Gerald stopped by for a visit. Alfred showed him in and was still committed to the same agenda, that of getting Clara married.

“You should know that Sir Lionel called earlier today and invited Clara to join him at a musicale,” Alfred said, conveniently omitting the fact that Clara declined the invitation. There was a challenging tone to his voice.

“I declined the invitation,” Clara said. Alfred puffed out his cheeks and was about to throw up his hands but stopped himself. Instead, he turned and opened the liquor cabinet. It was a little earlier than he usually drank, but it was every gentleman’s right to choose when he did so. Gerald moved closer to Clara.

“Sir Lionel must have been disappointed,” Gerald said.

“He was, but I felt that it was the right thing to do. I did not wish to mislead him, and of course I would not wish to give the ton any reason to doubt the sincerity of our courtship,” she replied, arching an eyebrow to emphasize the point she was trying to make. Gerald licked his lips and ran his hand across his jaw.

“Thank you,” he said.

“I am only staying true to our arrangement,” she replied.

“Of course,” he said. Then, for a strange moment, she saw the same expression on Gerald’s face as had been evident on Sir Lionel’s when his invitation had been declined. However, it did not linger on Gerald’s face, and by the time Clara blinked, he was back to his usual self, leaving her to wonder if she imagined it.

Gerald moved his hand across his mouth. As he did so, Clara noticed strange marks on the inside of his fingers, deep, dark lines.

“Have you injured yourself?” she asked, nodding towards his hand. Gerald looked at his palm, keeping it hidden from her, and then shoved his hand behind his back.

“Not at all,” he said. Clara narrowed her eyes, finding his behavior suspicious, but she could not imagine what he might have been hiding from her. She shrugged and let the matter rest. If he wanted to be secretive then so be it, she wasn’t going to play any game merely for the sake of playing it.

“You should be aware that my father is becoming rather impatient with your seeming indecision. He feels that a proposal should be forthcoming soon. I have told him that I have the matter well in hand, but if he is standoffish with you at any point, that is the reason.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for letting me know. How are the children getting on with Duke, by the way?”

“Just grand. He has settled in there and it is like he has been a part of their lives for years. He has also shown a fondness for grandmother’s hats, and a few have become casualties of his exuberance as she sometimes forgets to leave them out of reach.”

Gerald chuckled in response to this, and she found it pleasurable to speak about something other than marriage or courtship. Alfred returned, and thankfully the drink he imbibed offered him a measure of calm. Mary and Beatrice joined shortly afterwards, and for a while Clara could almost believe that everything was perfect.

Chapter Sixteen

“Thank you again. I shall see you next week,” Gerald said, holding a damp cloth to his hand and massaging his fingers. Clara had almost noticed, and that wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.

“Who was that?” Eleanor asked. Gerald quickly clasped his hands behind his back, the damp cloth locked between his palms. He offered a forced smile, hoping she wouldn’t see the tense crinkling by his eyes.

“I thought you were visiting your friends in Richmond?”

“Poppy had to reschedule, but I am going this afternoon. Was that Clara? Did I miss her?”

“No, but I’m just about to get ready to go and visit St. Margaret’s,” he said. Eleanor stared at him, waiting for him to answer her question. When he didn’t, she furrowed her brow.

“Why won’t you tell me who was at the door?”

“It was nobody, just a business matter. It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. Make sure you are home in good time tonight, and I shall see you for dinner,” Gerald said, marching away to escape the conversation before Eleanor could press any further.

He deftly moved his hands in front of him as he turned his back to her, making sure he kept his secrets to himself.

“How is everything coming along, Mr. Gleeson?” Gerald called out as he entered the grounds of St. Margaret’s. Mr. Gleeson jumped up and gestured to the men around him to rise as well. They had all been lounging on sacks of bricks and piles of stones.

“All’s well, Your Grace. Ev’rythin is proceedin’ as it should,” he called back, the look on his face suggesting that he had been caught taking an unscheduled break.

“Very good. Please continue. I have been impressed with your work ethic so far,” Gerald said, making the point that he would be watching Gleeson and his men carefully, and would not be content to have them steal time from him.

The door to St. Margaret’s had been left ajar. Gerald knocked and pushed the door open. There was no response. He called out Clara’s name, so he assumed they were in the garden. He passed by one of the sitting rooms and saw that Agatha was draped over the couch, snoring softly. She had a hat clutched in her hands, one that had clearly suffered at the Duke’s teeth.

As he ventured into the garden, he stepped into a world of sweetness and warmth. The sounds that greeted him were joyful. Duke rushed around, chased by the stream of four children.

Clara was sitting on the grass nearby, watching intently. Her legs were tucked beneath her body, and one hand lay across her thigh, while the other leaned against the ground. A few strands of hair escaped her pins, and the gentle wind tugged at them. Gerald’s heart stilled, although he then tensed every muscle around the core of his body, wanting to rid himself of this sorcery.