Courting Claudia

by Robyn DeHart

She smoothed her hand along the red velvet bodice, loving the feel of the plush softness, then started down the stairs. For the first time in her life, she realized, she felt pretty. Beautiful, even. She tilted her chin and smiled as she descended the rest of the way to the first floor.

  Her husband stood at the base of the stairs looking more handsome than she’d ever seen him. She hadn’t thought that a possibility. But there he stood, dressed from head to toe in black, with the exception of his white shirt. He arched one eyebrow, and a sensual grin slid into place. Her heart beat wildly in her chest.

  No other man had ever affected her the way Derrick did. She supposed that was how it should be between a husband and wife. But oh, how she wished there was more between them.

  Love. Claudia wanted love. Her beloved friend Poppy had her heart broken, and she selfishly wanted more from her otherwise happy marriage.

  She reached him, and he leaned down to place a hot kiss at her throat.

  “You look stunning, as I knew you would in that dress. We might have to disappoint our guests and disappear for a while.”

  “Are you suggesting, dear husband, that we flee from our own ball, so you can toss up my skirts and please yourself?”

  He clicked his tongue. “My, what a saucy wench my wife has become. I’ll be tossing those skirts up tonight. You can count on that. But I shall not be the only one getting pleasure.”

  She had no doubt he was right. It would not surprise her in the least if she were the most pleasured lady in all of England.

  “Shall we?” he asked, then held his arm out for her.

  She linked her arm with his. “Yes.”

  They were announced amid applause and smiles. Whether or not people saw their union as fodder for the rumor mill, everyone was on his best behavior tonight. The cream of Society had turned out in force because of the simple words, “The dowager Duchess of Shelton requests your presence…”

  The next two and a half hours sped past Claudia in a whirlwind. She danced with more men than she could count, and handfuls of others had offered to fetch her drinks or escort her here or there. As it was, right now she waltzed with a pleasant-looking man by the name of Lord Clay-brooke, whom she remembered meeting several Seasons before.

  “My dear Miss Prattley, or I suppose it is now Middleton, my apologies, I wish to congratulate you on your marriage.”

  “Thank you, Lord Claybrooke.”

  “I’m not certain if you recall, but we met before. We danced a few times several years ago.”

  “Of course I remember you.”

  “Excellent. I made my intentions known I wished to court you.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. I came to see your father.”

  She could see where this was going. He had declared his intentions to her father, and her father had ignored them. Blinded by his plans to see her wed to Richard. And she could have had a regular courtship by this very nice gentleman. Had there been any others whose requests had fallen on deaf ears?

  “I see,” she said. “I regret I never got such a message. You must have thought me most ungrateful. I wish I had known.”

  “It matters not now. I can see you and your husband are very happy. But I never got a chance to tell you what a charming woman I thought you were. I wanted to do so tonight.”

  “Thank you, Lord Claybrooke. That means more to me than you could know.”

  For years she’d made excuses for her father’s harsh treatment of her, refusing to see the truth—he didn’t love her and never had. There was no tenderness when he looked at her and saw a glimpse of her mother, no moments of pride at the woman she’d become. There was nothing that even resembled love, and Derrick was right, it was time she walked away.

  She had a new family now. Someday she’d have her own children, and she’d make certain they knew every day that their mother and father loved them.

  The dance ended, and Lord Claybrooke escorted her back to Derrick.

  “May I say, Mr. Middleton, that you are a lucky man?” Lord Claybrooke asked.

  “You may. And I agree. I am quite smitten with my wife.” He hugged her close to him. Once they were alone, he whispered in her ear. “I do wish these people would leave. I’m crazy with want for you.”

  She smiled. “And I for you. But we must wait until our guests leave.”

  “What do you suppose they would say if I tossed you over my shoulder and hauled you upstairs?”

  “That we had a scandalous marriage, and you are a complete cad.”

  “True enough.”

  “Behave.”

  “Lord Claybrooke seemed to be quite taken with you.”

  “Yes. As it turns out, he attempted to court me a few years ago, and my father neglected to give me that information.”

  “Well, as much as I’m sorry your father did such a thing, I’m pleased by the outcome. I’d hate to think of Claybrooke lifting those tempting skirts of yours.”

  “Honestly, Derrick.”

  “This proves my point, though. You’ve always believed there was something wrong with you, something about you that prevented you from having a string of suitors. When in fact, it was only because your father is a bastard. I do apologize, my dear, but it’s the truth.”

  “Let’s not talk about him anymore this evening.”

  “I’m going to go find my aunt and make our excuses. I can take no more of this. We are going to bed.”

  Derrick waited in the parlor, knowing there was a good chance this was the worst mistake he’d ever make. He was putting his marriage on the line, gambling the newfound love he had with his wife. But if her father was guilty, it was a risk worth taking to ensure Claudia’s safety.

  He didn’t have to wait too much longer before he heard the rapping of the cane down the hall, and then Lord Kennington entered.

  “Middleton. What the hell do you want?”

  “Are you this hospitable to all your guests?”

  “You can save your sarcasm for someone who has the time.”

  “Fair enough. I’ve come with a business proposition for you.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “Oh, but I think you will be.”

  He grumbled and found his way to a chair.

  “Does the name Chester Edwards mean anything to you?”

  A slight flicker in his eye, and then it was gone. “I’m familiar with him, yes. He was a patents officer. Offed himself as I recall.”

  “Yes, he did. But I think you knew him a little better than that.”

  “What are you after, Middleton?”

  “I think you knew him well enough to blackmail him.”

  “That’s preposterous.” His color heightened, turning his cheeks and neck a cherry-red.

  “Yes, I think you blackmailed him so that he would embezzle money for you from the patents office. And I think you used Richard Foxmore as your deliveryman. Only Richard didn’t deliver your blackmail letters, did he? No, he must have relied on your threats, and he kept the letters himself, planning to turn the blackmailing tables on you. How am I doing so far?”

  “You weave an entertaining tale. But you can prove nothing.”

  “Oh, but I believe I can. And I have more to tell. Richard, being the greedy, not quite so smart man that he was, fouled up his blackmail with you when he told you about the letters. That’s when you decided to kill him. You simply were not aware that he’d already contacted me with the story. Of course my past with Richard and using him as a source is tainted, so I was reluctant to believe him. Until I saw the letters.”

  “Telling people you think you saw letters proving this ludicrous tale will only make you look the fool. People will believe me. I am an important man.”

  “Indeed you are. Which will make this scandal all the more explosive. So here is what I propose. You leave quietly. Retire from public life. Move to your country estate and cut all ties with the House of Lords. And cut all ties with Claudia.”

  “Are you mad?”

&n
bsp; “No. It’s a generous offer. Better than the alternative.”

  “Which is?”

  “Prison. Don’t think for a moment that a jury of your peers would not convict you for crimes against the crown. They might not care that you rid the world of Richard Foxmore, but stealing from the queen…” He clicked his tongue. “Shame on you.”

  “You cannot prove any of this.”

  “Oh, but I can. And I will. I have a story ready for my newspaper, as well as the hard proof ready to go to Her Majesty.”

  “Liar.”

  Derrick leaned forward. “Don’t tempt me. I’m trying to save my wife some grief and leave her with some pleasant thoughts about her father. Would you ruin everything for her by making me print this story?”

  “I care not a whit what my daughter thinks of me. She has betrayed me.”

  “Selfish, stubborn bastard. Well, that is my deal.” He stood. “You have twenty-four hours to consider it and get back to me. If I don’t hear from you, I will turn my evidence over to the queen and print the story. You have my word on that.”

  “Prove to me you have the evidence.”

  “Do you think I’m a fool that I would show you? That was Richard’s mistake. You’ll just have to trust.”

  “Like hell I will. You’re bluffing.”

  “When it comes to my wife, be guaranteed that I don’t bluff. Were it not for Claudia, there would be no deal. I would simply turn you over to the authorities. I’m doing this for her, because I don’t want to see her hurt. But the bottom line is, you need to be stopped, and if you won’t cooperate, I won’t hesitate to bring this to the people.”

  “You can’t threaten me.”

  “I can, and I did. Twenty-four hours. Your decision. The country with a nice quiet life, or life in a tiny, dirty cell in prison. It doesn’t seem like much of a choice to me, but I’ll let you think about it.”

  And with that he turned and left.

  Chapter 21

  “It’s an excellent drawing, Claudia,” Poppy said.

  Claudia glanced at the illustration, holding it up so she could inspect each detail. It might well be her best drawing yet. Pride swelled in her chest, and she smiled. A pictorial of her and Derrick. It would debut as the first full-colored illustration in the paper.

  They looked happy. Like a happily married couple. She couldn’t wait for Derrick to see it. After his reaction to the first drawing of the two of them, perhaps this one would please him. She looked at the image of herself, and it looked like her, not a caricature of what she thought people saw. Used to think, she corrected.

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it? I appreciate you letting me make this quick stop. I realize I could give it to him at home. I am still a paid employee. But this drawing is special, and I want to bring it to him.”

  “We don’t have to go today. I’m not really in the mood for shopping anyhow,” Poppy said.

  “We are going shopping. It will take your mind off things. I won’t be but a moment.”

  “I’ll wait here.”

  “Perfect.”

  Claudia made her way up to his office and looked around, but Mason was nowhere to be seen, so she knocked on Derrick’s door. No answer. She cracked the door and peeked inside. No Derrick.

  She made her way to his desk and decided to leave him the illustration as well as a note, and they could discuss it later tonight, as she wasn’t sure when he’d return.

  She glanced around for some parchment and grabbed the quill. She set quill to paper to pen her note, but something caught her eye. Something with her father’s name on it.

  She picked it up and began to read. As she read, her world crumbled to her feet.

  She sank into Derrick’s chair and stared at the paper until the words blurred into a black smear. Embezzlement. Murder. Suicide. So her father had been the one Derrick had suspected. Two weeks ago she would have been positive her father wasn’t capable of such atrocities, but now she wasn’t so sure.

  How could Derrick have written this without speaking to her first? He’d said he didn’t want to accuse anyone until he was positive of his guilt. Surely he was positive, or he wouldn’t have written this piece. But still he’d said nothing. He’d obviously had suspicions about this for a while now. Why hadn’t he come to her first?

  She grabbed the article and left his office. She stepped into the carriage and nearly burst into tears at the sight of her friend, but she swallowed hard and faked some courage.

  “You look dreadful. What’s the matter?”

  Claudia recounted the article and all the details within.

  “So what do you think of all of it?” Poppy asked.

  “I’m not certain. I’m angry with Derrick for not coming to me first. I’m not positive all of his allegations are sound. And I’m frightened that they are, and my father is a horrible man.

  “The embezzlement doesn’t surprise me. But I am hesitant to believe that he murdered Richard. I was so certain that it was a burglary.” She looked up at Poppy. “You know the last time I saw my father alone, he tried to convince me that Derrick killed Richard. Which was ridiculous because Derrick and I had been together the entire time.”

  “If he’s guilty, then it makes sense that he would try to throw you off his trail, so to speak.”

  “I suppose. But murder, Poppy. My goodness, I’d only recently come to terms with the fact that he’d never be proud of me. I’ve made peace with the fact that his standards were too high, that I was never going to be the daughter he wanted me to be. I never dreamed he’d kill someone.”

  “So you believe Derrick?”

  “I know Derrick would never print a story without confirming the facts.” And then it hit her. “Oh my goodness, this will clear his name, bring honor back to his father’s name.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She shook her head. “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, Derrick and Richard had a past, and it looks like my father was to blame for a lot of things. I can’t believe he wouldn’t come to me to tell me what he’d found. He obviously doesn’t trust me.”

  How could she have been so blind? He’d said he’d never lie to her again, and she’d foolishly believed him.

  “Clearly Richard and my father were right. Derrick married me for the details of this story.”

  “This doesn’t prove any such thing. Did you know anything about your father and embezzlement? No. Then how could marrying you help Derrick in his endeavor? Seriously, Claudia, do you think he had a master plan all along? Ruin you in public so you’d be forced to marry him, and then he could ruin your life by accusing your father of crimes against the crown? And you accused me of having an active imagination.”

  “You don’t understand. He’s spent the better part of our marriage teaching me to trust him. Yet he cannot offer trust in return. If he would have simply come to me with all of this…”

  “You’d have done what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’d have gone straight to your father. Don’t you see, he kept this from you to keep you safe? To prevent you from getting hurt. He loves you, Claudia.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “You’re so sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. That night at your wedding ball. It was as if you were the only woman in the world. No matter how many men ask me to dance and try to steal kisses in the dark, no one has ever looked at me that way. Like they could really see me.”

  “If he loves me, then he would have told me.”

  “Have you told him?” Her voice was heavy with sarcasm.

  “No,” Claudia admitted.

  Poppy didn’t understand. Claudia looked down at her hands. Her wedding ring sparkled as if winking at her. Mocking her. Her husband didn’t trust her, and he didn’t love her.

  “Why not? You love him. With your logic, if you love someone, you tell him. Right?”

  “Why are you so angry with me?”

&n
bsp; “You need to look around you. Stop being so blind to what is right in front of you. You have everything we’ve ever dreamed of.” She shook her head. “I’m not certain why Derrick didn’t tell you about the story first. I’m not certain why he hasn’t told you he loves you. But I know he loves you, I’ve seen it. And I’m fairly certain that also means he trusts you. He’s only trying to protect you.”

  The carriage stopped. Bond Street—their shopping trip.

  Poppy opened the door. “Go home and talk to your husband. I’m sorry I can’t offer you compassion, but I find myself lacking in sympathy today. Don’t you see what you have? You have the kind of marriage I’ll never have.” Her eyes shone with tears.

  “Give Derrick a chance to explain these things to you. Be patient with him, and be happy with your relationship. In time, I know he’ll express his feelings for you. If you let this stand in the way of your happiness, you’re a fool.” She stepped out of the carriage. “I’ll find my own way home.”

  Claudia sat back against the seat cushion and watched Poppy through the tiny window. They’d never before fought, and she wanted to be angry about Poppy’s harsh treatment, but found she couldn’t. The truth was, she was only hurt. Hurt by her father’s betrayal. Hurt by Poppy’s anger. And hurt by her husband’s flagrant lack of trust in her, when he demanded time and again that she trust him.

  There were things to be said. She needed to hear some things herself. She gave the driver the address. But first it was time for her father to be honest with her.

  Chapter 22

  “Do I have any messages?” Derrick asked Mason as he stepped into his office.

  Mason looked blithely up from his paperwork and shook his head. “No. Everything seems to be running smoothly today.”

  Derrick nodded, then entered his office. His meeting had lasted longer than he’d anticipated, and he was ready for the day to end. Ready to go home. To Claudia.

  He sat at his desk to make a few notes for the following day, and that’s when he saw it. Her illustration, an illustration of them from their wedding ball. He picked it up and admired her skill, and then his heart nearly stopped beating. Claudia had been in his office. He rummaged through the papers littering his desktop. Where was the article? He knew he’d left it right here on his desk; he’d planned to take it to Kennington tomorrow as a final threat. Derrick picked up her illustration and walked into the hall.