by Erica Taylor
“I have a solution to your problem,” Susanna announced an hour later. Clara had taken up reading in the lilac drawing room but she had barely made it through two pages in as many hours.
“Do tell,” Clara replied, setting the book aside. “If it will improve anything, I am eager for a suggestion.”
“You and Andrew need to travel to Petersfield to determine if your sister and her child live, am I correct?” Susanna asked and Clara nodded. “So,” Susanna continued, “let us all go.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“We have a home there,” Susanna explained, sitting demurely on a chair opposite Clara. “Well, in that general direction. Let us adjourn to the country for a few days for an impromptu house party.”
Clara frowned. “I thought Bradstone Park was in Kent?”
“It is,” Susanna answered. “But I’m speaking of Foley Cottage. It is near Petersfield. ”
“How would an impromptu house party solve anything?” Clara asked.
“If the family leaves London together, no one would think twice about you coming with us,” Susanna explained. “It is brilliant actually. No one would even know you were not with us the entire time. Sarah and I can have a quick rest in the country while you two go figure out this business with your sister.”
“Goodness, Susanna, you might be on to something,” Clara admitted, tapping her finger against her lips. “But the wedding is next week. Can we be back in time?”
“Foley Cottage is about a day’s carriage ride,” Susanna replied with a shrug. “If we leave first thing in the morning we will have ample time. The rest of us may get some rest; you and Andrew, I suspect, will not.” Susanna’s brow arched up above her eye and she gave Clara a quizzing glance.
Clara ignored her, not wanting to decipher the subtext of Susanna’s questioning brows.
“Let’s do it then,” Clara decided and rose from her chair. “Come, let’s inform Sarah of our plans, and she will help us make everything ready.”
Susanna blinked at her from a moment, before asking, “Do you wish to run this by Andrew first?”
Clara shook her head. “If he chooses not to come, that is his decision,” Clara replied, walking through the room. “This concerns my sister, and I am determined to find out what has happened all these years. He will not deny my going, not when you are all travelling with me. Besides, he is not yet my husband. I still have a few more days to determine my own fate.”
Andrew was not expecting to return to Bradstone House and find it in a state of chaos. Apparently his sisters were packing for a holiday.
Andrew frowned, watching the maids carry bundles of clothing down the halls, footmen lugging trunks up the stairwells.
With a glance to the gentleman beside him, Andrew led the way through the halls, in search of one of the females in his life who might shed some light on their change in plans.
He found Susanna and Clara in Clara’s bedchamber, discussing the number of gowns required for a quick sojourn out of London. Clara was a sight to behold, smiling and laughing about some nonsense she and Susanna had bought on Bond Street days earlier. Andrew suppressed a sigh, watching Clara giggle at an anecdote regarding his poor footman being completely encumbered with a mound of towering parcels from their excursions. Apparently the last hat box slung on his arm was too much for the girls to take, and both girls doubled over in a fit of giggles. It was wonderful to see Clara smile and laugh, and he was grateful to his sisters for helping Clara to cope with her ordeal over the past two weeks. He knew what good friends could do to a person’s disposition, especially in the trying times life had a way of putting in one’s path. He was happy she found that in his sisters, particularly, it seemed, in Susanna.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Andrew began, clearing his throat.
“Andrew!” Susanna said brightly. “It is about time you returned. We had planned to leave without you!”
“Yes, and where are we going?” he asked, crossing his arms, watching the maids moving gowns and day dresses from the wardrobe.
“To Foley Cottage, of course,” Susanna said dismissively.
“Susanna has this harebrained idea that is actually quite ingenious,” Clara explained. “We are to all go Foley Cottage for a house party, when really it is to mask you and I going in search of Christina. Susanna says the parsonage where she was last seen is near Foley Cottage?”
Andrew glanced at Susanna, his gaze hard. Susanna blinked at him in challenge. “I said it was sort of close.” Turning towards Clara, Susanna said, “I will leave you now and tend to my own packing. Good luck.” Susanna winked at Clara before quitting the room.
“This parsonage is at least a two-hour carriage ride from Foley Cottage,” Andrew informed Clara. It seemed Susanna was aware of this.
The bright light in Clara’s eyes dimmed for a moment before she smiled sweetly at him. “Well, that is closer than it is to London. We will be back in time for the wedding next week.”
Andrew glanced at the gentleman waiting behind him in the hallway and the dark-haired man shrugged.
“Sounds like a marvelous plan,” Andrew replied to Clara. “In fact, we can add one more to our numbers.” Stepping into the room, Clara gasped as the gentleman followed Andrew through the doorway.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said, her hands flying to cover her mouth. “Patrick!”
The young man smiled at her, a warm teasing smile that only a younger brother could give to his older sister. Clara went tumbling into his arms, and Patrick laughed, wrapping his arms around her.
“Clare-bear, you are all grown up!” he teased and kissed the top of her head.
“Oh, posh, Patrick, I was grown up when you left,” Clara said, looking up into his eyes. She smiled brightly at him, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “You, on the other hand, have grown so tall! And your hair, you really need to trim it. Oh, Patrick, whatever are you doing here?”
Patrick laughed as she squeezed her arms around him again and glanced over her shoulder to Andrew. Andrew nodded and took a few more steps into the room.
“I went to the Home Office to inquire where he was, nearly a fortnight ago,” Andrew explained, taking up the tale. “I did not intend to have him shipped in from the far reaches of the sea, though I thought maybe if he was near he could be sent for. Imagine my shock when he appeared at Brook’s this afternoon.”
“My captain received a letter from his grace,” Patrick continued. “He granted me shore leave for the duration of your engagement. Said it was a wedding present.”
Clara glanced to Andrew. “You will never guess who his commander is,” he said, his eyes flashing with humor.
“Your brother,” Clara said immediately, her lips broadening into a bright smile. “Of course he is.”
“A very strange set of coincidences, don’t you think?” Patrick asked. “I just happened to be under Captain Lord Bennett Macalister’s command.”
“Indeed,” Clara agreed and looked back at Andrew, her eyes twinkling. “This truly is the best gift you could have ever given me,” Clara said, reaching for Andrew’s hand. “Whatever shall I do to equal such a gesture?”
“I do not require anything,” Andrew said. “Just show up to the church and stay away from my footmen.”
Clara and Patrick laughed, and Clara squeezed Andrew’s hand again. He excused himself, leaving brother and sister alone in the drawing room to reconnect after three years apart.
Clara could not believe her eyes; her long lost Patrick was sitting beside her. He looked well, his dark hair curling at the base of his neck and his brown eyes bright and clear. Looking at the two of them one could not tell they were brother and sister. Patrick looked more like Jonathan, more aristocratic in his features. The eyes were the only way the two brothers were different. All the Masson siblings had brown eyes, but Patrick and Clara were blessed with the twinkling gold
flecks in the brown that Jonathan and Christina lacked.
“You filled out,” Clara observed, glancing at his informal attire. He was not wearing his military uniform, choosing instead a dark brown coat with a cream waist jacket and cream breeches.
“Three years on a ship will have that affect,” Patrick laughed. “Captain Macalister had me scrubbing floors and climbing ropes to the top of the mast the first days aboard his ship. I learned to be quick though. I’m very useful if the ropes tangle themselves.”
“Goodness, to think of you at the top of a ship’s mast . . .” Clara said, her eyes sparkling with pride. “I am so very happy to see you, even if you did not come home to the best circumstances.”
Patrick shrugged. “But look at you, dear sister, about to be a duchess!” he said and clicked his tongue. “Who would have thought?”
Clara smacked him on the arm and he feigned injury. “Are you implying I am not fit to be a duchess?”
“Quite the contrary, actually,” Patrick replied. “I am very happy for you, and you seem very well-suited to his grace.”
“Yes, well, after what Jonathan has been saying about me it is a very advantageous match,” Clara agreed. “Though Andrew is quite wonderful, once you get to know him.”
Patrick scoffed. “Yes, I am sure. Just like a shark is nice after you pet him once. And what do you mean about Jonathan? What has he done now?”
“He absolutely hates me, Paddy,” Clara said. “You have to know what he has said about me.”
Patrick shook his head. “Away at sea for the past three years, Clara. We don’t exactly have access to the gossip pages.”
Clara sighed and regaled her brother with the tales their elder brother had put out into the world. “The ton somehow thinks I was involved with Christina’s elopement, that I actually killed Christina or that I am Christina masquerading around as the other twin. I have been on the continent as the mistress of some wealthy foreign aristocrat, specifically at times an Italian viscount. I went away into the country to give birth to a bastard child. I have also become a fortune hunting leech and an upstart looking to extend my reach. Oh, and Jonathan has been trying to have me killed to gain access to Mother’s Patterson money.”
Patrick looked at her, wide-eyed in shock. “No one can believe any of that?”
“Oh, it would seem that everyone does,” Clara replied. “Except the part about Jonathan trying to kill me for mother’s gold. No one knows about that.”
“The Patterson funds?” Patrick asked. “Is it even worth killing for?”
Clara nodded, her curls bobbing alongside her face. “Oh, yes, there is over forty thousand pounds.” Patrick let out a low whistle, and Clara nodded again. “Mother invested well.”
“Apparently so,” he said. “Now I know who to go to for a loan. Though I would suspect you will be marrying into much, much more.”
Clara glanced around the elegant and finely-decorated room. “Yes, though I never dared ask Andrew how much exactly.”
“Wise of you,” he answered, nodding. “Best not to look like a fortune-hunting leech trying to extend your reach.”
Clara laughed and squeezed her brother’s hands. “Oh, how I have missed you, Patrick. You will join us on this impromptu house party? There is an alternative reason for going, and it does involve you.” Clara swallowed and forced the words past her lips. “Christina might be alive.”
The words felt so foreign coming from her lips, but the tightening in her chest was no longer so. Patrick’s eyes flew open in shock, and Clara chuckled.
“You have a better reaction to this than I did.”
“How is that possible?” Patrick asked with a sigh as he leaned back against the cushions.
Clara launched into the story about everything that had come to light over the past four weeks, her brother watching her carefully. She told him about Jonathan’s abuse that lead her to waking up in Bradstone House and her engagement to Andrew. How the family was shot at and Norah poisoned, all because her brother wanted her dead, to take possession of a fortune she hadn’t even known existed. How Molly, her maid, had seen Christina with her own eyes, and now Clara needed answers. She needed to close that part of her life before she could hope to move forward.
“We are to set out to Petersfield where she was last seen alive,” Clara said. “You must come with me, Paddy. She was your sister too.”
“Yes, of course, I will come,” Patrick agreed, giving her hands a squeeze. “My darling sister, how much you’ve had to endure in my absence. I am so sorry this has happened to you.”
Clara shrugged. “I’ve managed. You have no idea how unbearable it has been with just Jonathan to live with.”
“I think I can remember,” Patrick replied. “He was the reason I left. Though it is hard to imagine he would say such things about you.”
“Andrew does not think he openly said them, just hints and veiled comments,” Clara explained. “Servants talk and soon things spiraled until I was a barely accepted member of society. The past few months have been grand, let me tell you.”
“So I am to walk you down the aisle and give you away?” Patrick asked.
“If you please,” Clara replied.
Patrick kissed the backs of her hands. “It would be my honor, Clare-bear. At least then I can fulfill some brotherly duty to you and make certain he goes through with it.”
“I think he’s more worried about me not going through with it,” Clara admitted. “I’ve made a mess of our relationship, and it has barely begun. Additionally, our family does not have the best history with weddings when it comes to the duke.”
“With our shared history it is a wonder Bradstone would even look at a Masson again,” Patrick said. “Not that you are not lovely enough to attract a duke, just that you should land this particular duke is a feat on its own.”
“Yes, I am well aware,” Clara sighed.
“I am sorry you have had to endure Jonathan without me, but I can feel confident leaving again knowing you have the duke as your protector. You will be quite safe from our brother’s evil doings.”
Clara wished her younger brother was correct, but she could not help but recall how someone, presumably hired by Jonathan, had shot at them leaving a ball. Or how he had infiltrated a conspirator into the household and Norah had been poisoned. Clara felt safe at Bradstone House, but she would feel much safer if Jonathan was under control.
Clara managed a brave smile, happy to have her brother here. “Come, I want you to meet Andrew’s sisters. And he has a brother with whom you probably went to Eton, Lord Nick Macalister.”
“Oh, yes, I remember Lord Nick,” Patrick said and rubbed his jaw as if the memory of an old injury had resurfaced. “He and I brawled a few times on the front lawn. Usually over nothing, if I recall. If he is in residence then I imagine it will be an interesting evening. Perhaps he can show me around town afterwards.”
Clara scowled at her brother. “Please, let’s not encourage him, Paddy. He is a good boy, and you are too—you both need to just grow up a little.”
Patrick smirked as they paused before the bedroom door. “I will leave the growing up and respectability to you, my dear duchess sister.”
Clara rolled her eyes and pulled open the door, eager to have her old family entwined with her new one.
Gentle reader, a reliable source said the Duke of B— and family were to enjoy a last minute holiday at home before the wedding next week. One can only hope the Duke of B— comes to his senses while on holiday at Foley Cottage in Kent.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Early the following morning, they were off. Three carriages departed from Bradstone House with two riders. Clara sat in the first carriage with Patrick, both eager to make up for the years they had been separated. Susanna and Sarah were in the second carriage, with the third carrying the various maids, valets, trunks and other
luggage. It never failed to amaze Andrew how much six people needed to pack for four days away from town.
Norah opted to stay behind with her brother Nick so he could tend to her.
“It is for the best, really,” Susanna had told Clara. “Norah’s constitution isn’t the strongest under the best of circumstances, and with her recovery still early, she really shouldn’t be moved. Besides,” Susanna had added with a wink, “Norah is a horrible traveler. Even just trips around the city in the carriage make her sick. She is the worst to travel with.”
Andrew had chuckled at Norah’s expense, which was probably mean-spirited of him, but Norah had been in a rare sort of disagreeable mood lately, and he only hoped she would snap out of it soon. Clara had managed to befriend Sarah and Susanna, and while Norah was polite, she had not warmed up to Clara as the others had.
After a few hours they paused to switch horses. Andrew opted to switch with Patrick, who was eager to stretch his legs after so many months at sea.
“You are to ride in Clara’s carriage?” Sarah asked as they stood outside the Crown and Pig Coaching Inn while the horses were changed. Sarah eyed Andrew suspiciously, her gaze darting between the engaged couple.
