Sweet Awakening

by Marjorie Farrell

  It seemed a fitting punishment to Clare the dreamer.

  The other Clare would lie sleeping next to her murdered husband. Her sleep would be “like the dead’s” forever.

  When Clare awoke, she remembered the dream clearly. Indeed, when she opened her eyes, it was with the expectation of seeing Justin’s body next to hers. For, in a way, she had been awake in the dream. She had seen something real, and when she awoke, she could only wonder at the everyday distinction people made between waking and sleeping. Who was to know what was a dream and what was reality? And no matter that the coroner’s jury had given a verdict of self-defense. She was a woman who had killed her husband, and she suspected he would forever haunt her bed.

  * * * *

  For the next few weeks, Clare attended a carefully chosen combination of routs, musicales, and dinner dances. Her entrances were marked less and less, and by the end of the second week, the ton was too distracted by Lady Huntly’s interesting condition to pay too much attention to Clare. Cuckolding a husband was not, of course, as exciting as killing one, but when said husband had been in the service of his country for the past year, and said wife was obviously increasing ... well, speculation as to who the father was was running wild.

  Andrew continued to go out more than usual and to stay close by Lady Rainsborough’s side for much of an evening. Giles Whitton was equally attentive, however, and wagers were beginning to be laid as to whether Lady Rainsborough would find a new husband this Season, and who would be the lucky man. “Although lucky may not be the right word,” said one gossip with a mocking smile. “After all, the lady is deadly with a pistol.”

  Had he been offered a wager, Giles himself was not sure on whom he would have placed his money. Clare was, it is true, more relaxed in his company, but there was almost a palpable barrier between them. A barrier that did not seem to exist between Clare and Andrew More.

  “Do you think there is anything serious between Clare and Andrew, Sabrina?” asked Giles one morning at breakfast. He had been trying to read one article in the paper for the past twenty minutes, a task he had found impossible and finally had given up on.

  His sister, who had been very aware of his mood, and indeed, had shared his concerns, put down her cup of tea and said: “I truly don’t know, Giles. I would like to think Clare is leaning on Andrew in a way which is quite natural. After all, he saved her life. They seem to have become good friends, but I have noticed nothing romantic between them.”

  “But what could be more natural than for a woman to fall in love with the man who rescued her from a horrible death.”

  Sabrina shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps. You have been quite noticeably neglecting Lucy Kirkman, Giles. Does this mean you are no longer thinking of marrying her?”

  “I can’t believe I ever did consider it. I had thought my feelings for Clare were dead. It had been two years, after all. I wanted to believe I could see Clare only as a friend, and therefore make Lucy a decent husband. But as soon as I knew Clare was free ...” Giles looked over at his sister, and she saw in his eyes such a mixture of exultation and hopelessness, that she quickly had to lower her own.

  “I almost feel sorry for Lucy,” said Sabrina. “Except that her fondness for you never deepened into love, as far as I could tell. What do you plan to do, Giles?”

  “I could wait,” said her brother. “I should wait. Let Clare recover. See if this connection with Andrew is anything more than friendship. But I don’t think I can wait, Brina,” he added fiercely. “I intend to ask Clare to marry me before this week is out.”

  “Do you think that wise?” Sabrina asked with gentle concern.

  “Wise? I thought it wise to let her enjoy her first Season without a formal commitment and look what happened. She ended up with Justin Rainsborough!”

  “Andrew More is hardly comparable, Giles,” protested his sister.

  “I know,” Giles replied with a little of his old humor. “But Clare is vulnerable right now. And what kind of a life will she have alone? She can’t want to return to Devon. And living with her parents is only a short-term solution. She needs love and security, and if I don’t offer it to her, I am afraid she will settle elsewhere.”

  “Perhaps you are right, Giles. Although I hate to think of you rushing into anything.”

  “Rushing? I have loved Clare for almost half my life, Sabrina. Whatever constraints she feels with me now, I am sure I can overcome them.”

  “I hope so, Giles.” And Sabrina did, as much for her own sake as for her brother’s. For while she did not sense any romantic inclination toward Andrew on Clare’s part, she knew her friend had always needed a shoulder to lean on, and Andrew’s was much too available.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Lord Whitton to see you, my lady.”

  Clare looked up from her embroidery in surprise. Although Giles had been very attentive lately when they met socially, he had not called upon her recently.

  “Send him up, Peters,” she said, somewhat reluctantly. She still did not feel the old comfort in his presence, but did not want to wound him by turning him away.

  “Good afternoon, Clare,” said Giles, standing hesitantly at the door of the drawing room.

  “Good afternoon, Giles, what a pleasant surprise. Please come in and sit down.” Despite her efforts, Clare’s welcome did not sound completely natural, and Giles wondered if he could ever break down the barrier she had erected between them.

  “I do not intend to stay, Clare. It is such a beautiful day, I was hoping I could convince you to come for a ride in the park. We do not have to be away long,” he added quickly.

  Clare felt trapped. Giles and Sabrina had offered her all their comfort and support these past few weeks. They had, with Andrew, made it possible for her to return in a modified way to her place in society. And here was Giles offering to help her take another step. Yet she cringed inwardly at what the gossips might be saying about them. And the memory of what Justin had said.

  She put her embroidery down and looked up at Giles. “Are you sure you wish to do this, Giles?”

  “Of course, Clare. You need to appear in public a little more.”

  “Despite the gossip it may cause?”

  Giles looked puzzled for a moment. “Clare, they will be gossiping about you for the rest of the Season. For years, most likely,” he added with a quick smile. “I thought you had accepted that fact?”

  “I have, Giles. I just haven’t gotten used to my friends being dragged in with me.”

  “Surely there is nothing strange about two old friends spending time together,” said Giles. And the sooner I get you to marry me, the better, he thought to himself. For after the initial uproar, things would die down, and Clare would not have to face anything alone again.

  “If you think so, Giles,” Clare replied after a moment’s thought. “I will be with you in a moment.”

  When she returned, she was wearing an old chip-straw bonnet with ribbons that matched her eyes, and Giles had all he could do not to tip her chin up and drop a kiss on her lips.

  When he handed her up into his curricle, he let his hand linger at her waist even after she was seated. Clare tried to ignore the sensation of warmth that remained even after he removed his hand, but she could not. Giles's touch felt good and that disturbed her. Had Justin known something about her that she hadn’t? Might she have been as responsive to Giles had he ever had the chance to be a potential lover as well as an old friend? Clare made sure she was on the far side of her seat so there was no chance of her leg coming into contact with Giles, and she was very glad that he had to give all his attention to his horses as they made their way through the traffic to the park.

  Once there, they were of course caught up in the parade of carriages and riders that frequented the park in the afternoon. Luckily they arrived a little before the most fashionable hour, so the curricle was able to keep moving. Several friends and acquaintances of Giles greeted him and rode next to them for a few minutes, ex
changing pleasantries and looking curiously at Clare when they thought she wouldn’t notice.

  Lucy Kirkman rode by at a canter looking very dashing in her Hussar riding habit, the jaunty cap tilted over her eye. A few minutes later she turned her chestnut mare and walked her back to Giles’s curricle.

  “Good afternoon, Giles. Clare, it is good to see you finally taking the air in public.”

  Lucy’s patronizing tone made Clare feel just as she had in her childhood: small, cowardly, and helpless. And overlooked, for having politely acknowledged Clare’s presence, Lucy proceeded to ignore her and chatted away to Giles. Lucy wasn’t one to give up easily anything she considered her own, thought Giles, and she had certainly thought of him as someone she possessed. He had hoped that his obvious attention to Clare would have made it clear enough to Lucy that whatever course they had been on had been altered radically by the events of the past month. He was relieved when she was finally drawn away by Andrew’s brother.

  “That is the third time this week Lord Avery has sought Lucy out. What an odd pair they would make. I wonder if he is serious,” remarked Giles.

  “He would seem to be. But I think her interest still lies elsewhere.” Clare was surprised by her own temerity.

  Giles flushed. “At one time I had thought that Lucy and I might rub along well together. But I was never in love with her, nor she with me, Clare.”

  “You don’t owe me any explanation, Giles. I shouldn’t have made that comment.”

  “You had every right to make it, Clare, for things have changed drastically over the past weeks,” responded Giles, turning and looking so seriously into her eyes that Clare had to turn away. She thought he was going to go on, but instead he touched his horses up to a trot and both of them silently enjoyed the breeze created by the curricle’s movement, which cooled off their faces, flushed by intensity and embarrassment.

  When Giles returned her to St. James Street, he only walked her to the door and turned down her offer of tea or lemonade.

  “No, not this afternoon, thank you, Clare. But I will see you tonight at the musicale? May I take you in to supper or are you already spoken for?”

  “No, that would be lovely, Giles. Thank you for the lovely drive. It was indeed a ...”

  “ ‘Lovely’ afternoon,” he teased, his grin suddenly bringing back the old friend Giles.

  Clare couldn’t help but laugh. “But it was a lovely afternoon, Giles.”

  “Until tonight then,” he said, and was gone, leaving her to both dread and anticipate the coming evening.

  * * * *

  For the next few days, Clare lived with the very uncomfortable combination of excitement and fear, although fear predominated. She felt helpless in the hands of Fate—or Giles—she wasn’t sure which. She only felt safe when she was with Andrew More and stayed by his side as often as she could respectably do so.

  There were moments when she wanted to turn to Andrew and cry: “Save me, Mr. More,” for so much of the time her life felt beyond her control. She had returned to society because she had seen no other choice for herself. She was glad she had, for she couldn’t imagine what else she might be doing. Yet it gave her little pleasure and exhausted her. She spent the days in between her social engagements lying in bed, feeling tired and disoriented. There were still mornings when Martha opened her door that she felt her heart beat in terror, so sure was she that it was Justin about to enter her bedroom.

  She felt she was wandering in a fog, and when Andrew More’s face would emerge, he seemed a landmark to her, the one secure thing to hold on to. She could almost wish that he wanted to marry her. She would have said yes.

  Not for the right reason, of course. But because she would have had him to support her. But despite the gossip she knew was circulating, she knew he had no romantic interest in her. It was Giles who would ask her. Of that, she was sure. He had been increasingly attentive. After the carriage ride, he had taken her in to dinner at the musicale and been hovering at her side ever since, or so it felt. He had said nothing yet, but it was inevitable that he would.

  One morning, while Clare was lying there agonizing over how she would answer Giles, she decided she must speak with someone about her dilemma. It could not be Sabrina. Andrew was the only other person she could trust, and she rang for Martha, feeling more energetic than she had in weeks.

  “Martha, I need to visit Mr. More’s office, and I need your company.”

  “Yes, my lady.” If Martha thought the visit odd, she kept it to herself. At least her mistress had some energy and some color in her cheeks.

  They took a hackney to Lincoln’s Inn and found Andrew’s chambers. His clerk looked at them with a curiosity he didn’t even try to hide. He knew who Clare was, of course, from the inquest.

  “Mr. More is busy with a client right now,” he told them. “If you are willing to wait, he should be out within the quarter hour.”

  It was twenty minutes before an older man emerged from Andrew’s office. He had obviously dressed carefully for his visit to the barrister’s office, but the clothes he wore, though clean, were threadbare. If this was Andrew’s usual sort of client, thought Clare, no wonder his family disapproved of him.

  The clerk went into the office to announce them, and Andrew came out immediately with a look of pleased surprise upon his face.

  “It is delightful to see you, Lady Rainsborough. But what brings you here?” He gestured them both into his office, but Clare turned to Martha and asked her to wait outside.

  “Please sit down, Clare,” said Andrew, after he closed the door behind them.

  “The man who was leaving your office, is he one of your clients, Andrew?” asked Clare as she sat down across from his desk.

  “The father of one of them. His son is in Newgate for housebreaking. The old man is sure I can get him off.”

  “And can you?”

  “I don’t know. From what my solicitor has shown me, I think the boy is guilty. But I am hoping I can get him transported.”

  “His father did not look like he had enough money to pay you, Andrew.”

  Andrew pulled a chair over and sat opposite Clare. “I always ask for something, no matter how small. But you are right, Clare,” said Andrew with a sheepish grin. Many of my clients are poor. I am lucky to have a small income of my own. And since I do, I always take a few poorer clients here and there.”

  “I am very glad that I could pay you well, then,” said Clare with a smile.

  “Now, what brings you here?” asked Andrew.

  Clare was silent for a moment. She had felt energized an hour ago, but now she could feel all that energy drain out of her.

  “Andrew, I count you as my friend.”

  “Indeed, I hope so.”

  “I am not in a very good state, Andrew,” she whispered.

  “How can I help you, Clare?" he asked, leaning forward sympathetically.

  “I don’t know quite who I am anymore. Or where I am, although that sounds strange, I know. It is as though there is a veil of mist between me and everything, everyone.”

  “Do you think the return to society has been too much for you?”

  “No, no, it is not that, although even a little effort seems to exhaust me. I think it is that my old life is gone, and I am living in some limbo where the only face I feel I know and can count on is yours.”

  Andrew reached out and took Clare’s hand. “I think that is a very natural feeling, Clare. And you know that I am here to support you in any way I can.”

  “I know. It is just that I am afraid. Giles has been very attentive. He is my oldest friend. Surely I should welcome his company. I do want his company, I think. Oh, Andrew,” said Clare with a shaky laugh, “I sound like a madwoman.” She took a deep breath. “Perhaps I am wrong, but I think before the Season is over, Giles is going to ask me to marry him.”

  “I think you are right.”

  “And I am afraid I will say yes.”

  “Why afraid, Clare?”


  “Because I can’t see a way out of it. I can’t see any shape for my life. I feel like I have no future, Andrew. That there is only a dreamlike present that will go on and on. And I feel in some way, that I owe Giles. Had I married him in the first place, none of this would have happened.”

  “But you were not in love with him the way you were with Lord Rainsborough?”

  “I think I could have been, had Justin not come along.”

  “But Rainsborough did, and you made the only choice you could have at the time. Are you in love with Giles now?”

  Clare shook her head. “I don’t think I am capable of feeling that for any man again. I would be cheating Giles out of something he deserves.”

  “You could marry me,” said Andrew lightly.

  “Andrew, you are surely the most supportive friend,” said Clare, deeply touched.

  “We could both do worse.”

  “I never felt you liked me very much, you know, those summers when you visited. And when I married Justin, not Giles ...”

  “I didn’t. But I have come to know you much better, Clare. And to admire you sincerely.”

  “Will you be very insulted if I refuse you, Andrew?”

  “Not at all, but I am quite serious, for all that.”

  “I am very grateful, more than I can say. And I care very much for you as a friend. But I have always suspected that you had special feelings for Sabrina.”

  Andrew looked surprised. “I have never done anything obvious, have I?”