by Wendy Vella
She did not turn but did stiffen as he spoke. “Good evening, Lord Kelkirk.”
“I understand we are to have Mozart this evening?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Tis most exciting, Lord Kelkirk,” said the woman to Claire’s right. “I believe Miss Fobersure is to be accompanied by Lady Lawn.”
“Well, if that is indeed the case, I should imagine we are in for a night of unequalled excitement, Miss James.”
Claire sniffed at his words.
“I was sincere in my praise, I assure you, Miss Belmont,” he whispered in her ear. She shivered as his breath touched her neck. He had no further chance to talk, as the music began. His hopes when he had decided to come tonight were that the musicians were at least proficient, but he realized as Petunia Fobersure and Lady Lawn took the stage, he had made a grave error in attending. He had come to see Claire, of course, but even that thought did not help as the torture began. Before him, Claire’s fingers crept to her ears, which made him feel marginally better.
“Tut-tut, Miss Belmont,” he said, once again leaning forward. Her scent was alluring, and he inhaled deeply. One long strawberry blonde curl rested on her shoulder, and he wanted to lift it and roll it between his fingers to test the texture. He quickly sat back as his body started to stir and his thoughts turned to those of a more carnal nature. Focusing on the stage, they soon cooled.
The music went on for what seemed like a day and a night until finally it ended, and the guests rose on a collective sigh of relief.
“We will now have dancing,” Lady Waverly said with a beaming smile, unaware all her guests had a loud ringing in their ears, and most had vowed, silently, not to attend her musical evenings ever again.
Before he could stop her, Claire had hurried away, following the other guests to where the dancing would begin. The woman was bloody elusive, he’d give her that. Pausing to secure a much needed glass of champagne, he then chatted briefly with a few friends before making his way through the crowd to the edge of the dance floor. Claire was dancing and appeared happy enough, smiling and chatting with her partner, who was all but falling into her cleavage. He’d never seen her wear anything like that. She was always dressed stylishly and elegantly, with just enough soft pink skin showing to torment him. Very rarely did she look like a bloody siren. Sensual and alluring, yes, however tonight Simon could feel his body growing tense just looking at her. He suddenly wanted to run one finger under his collar like a young whelp, as it felt tight against his throat. The color of the dress made her skin glow, and he had known she had lovely breasts but not quite how lovely. They would make any man’s fingers twitch, showcased as they were in apricot satin this evening. Simon wasn’t sure why he was angry about her dress or that other men were looking at her breasts, yet he was. So much so that when the dance stopped, he moved to intercept her. “My dance, I believe, Miss Belmont.”
“I’m sorry, my lord, but I am promised to Lord Calvary.”
“He’s taken ill,” Simon said, placing a hand on her spine and propelling her forward.
“You’re lying. He was perfectly well not ten minutes ago.” She tried to look over her shoulder to see if Lord Calvary was about. He turned her in his arms as the waltz started, and they were soon moving together with the music.
“Miss Belmont, I never lie. Mr. Calvary is suffering from digestion issues. It seems his coat and breeches are too tight and restricting the airways.” Simon looked down at her and tried to keep his eyes on her face instead of the lush swells above the bodice of her dress.
She didn’t smile as he’d intended her to; in fact, the expression in her brown eyes was identical to her brother’s–one of infinite sadness.
“Yes, you do lie regularly, especially if it is to strengthen your claim.”
“You wound me,” he said, pulling her closer as they navigated their way around several couples. He had not danced often with Claire, usually because she was never short of partners and avoided Simon whenever she could. “How is your headache?”
“What headache?”
“The one you told Eva you had, when you sent a note around to her house explaining you would not be attending the Miller ball two nights ago.” Interesting, she had lied to her best friend, but why? All this intrigue was making his head hurt.
“Oh yes, that headache. Much better, thank you, my lord.” She avoided his eyes, and instead, looked over his shoulder.
“I understand you are going with Daniel and Eva to Stratton tomorrow.”
She nodded, still not looking at him.
“I was just talking with your brother, Claire. He appeared worried about something. Do you know what it is?”
Simon caught her as she tripped on his foot. He held her briefly before standing her back on her feet. Leaning forward so his mouth was against her ear, he then whispered, “What the hell is going on with you?”
Instead of censuring him for using coarse language in her presence, she simply pulled herself out of his arms. “Thank you for the dance, Lord Kelkirk, but I fear my headache has returned. Thus I will find my mother at once and leave.”
“Claire, I want to help you, please. Tell me what is wrong.”
She tried to evade him as he reached for her arm, but with so many prying eyes upon them, she could not, so he simply grabbed her hand and rested it on his sleeve.
“There is nothing wrong with me, my lord, other than a headache. Please take me to my mother at once.”
“And your brother? Why did he look so sad when you walked away from him?”
Simon wasn’t sure, as the room was filled with noise, but he thought she made a sound. However when he looked down at her, she had her usual calm smile in place. She wasn’t calm, though. He could feel how tightly her fingers clenched his arm.
“My brother has much on his mind, my lord. I cannot furnish you with the reasons for his mood.”
He wasn’t going to get anything else out of her this evening, but he would tomorrow. He would make sure to get to Daniel’s house before they left and see Claire then, make her talk to him.
When they found Lady Belmont, the woman would not look at her daughter. Instead, she offered Simon a tight smile that resembled her children’s. Whatever this was, it clearly involved the entire Belmont family.
“Excuse me. I shall find Lord Belmont now, Lady Belmont, as your daughter has a headache and wishes to leave at once.” The older lady gave him a curt nod but still did not make a move towards her daughter.
Mathew Belmont was standing, looking out some windows into the darkness. In one hand, he held a glass of champagne, which appeared untouched.
“Belmont, your sister is unwell and wishes to return home at once.”
“Where is she?” His skin paled instantly, and his eyes started searching for Claire.
“I will take you to her.”
They quickly made their way back through the throng to Claire and Lady Belmont. Claire was standing silently beside her mother. Her hands were clenched, and she looked uncomfortable. Her mother looked much the same. Anyone watching them would have thought they were strangers, as they neither touched nor conversed.
“Are you unwell, Claire?”
Simon stayed back as Mathew reached for his sister. She stepped away from the hand Belmont was holding out, and it fell to his side.
“I wish to go home please, my lord, at once.”
Not brother or Mathew but my lord. Claire’s words sounded cold and detached.
“Of course we shall leave at once,” Mathew said.
Simon then watched as Claire reluctantly took one of her brother’s arms and Lady Belmont the other, and soon they had disappeared from his sight.
Simon could not rid himself of the feeling that in the three days since he’d visited the Belmont family, something very bad had happened, and although he had no right to pry into what that something was, he wanted to know. All of them were tense and unhappy, and the look in Claire’s eyes would stay with him for the res
t of the evening. Thirty minutes later, he realized he did not want to stay at the musical any longer, either. He would have an early night and be on Daniel’s doorstep when Claire arrived. He would then question her, and this time she would bloody well answer him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Claire waited until the house was quiet before sneaking into her brother’s study. She placed her lamp on top of his desk, opened the drawer, and found the note. Her fingers were not steady as she copied it word for word before replacing the original and folding her copy before pushing it into her dressing gown pocket. She then looked through the other drawers until she found a pouch of money. It was wrong to steal, especially from her brother, but he had left her with no other choice. Hurrying out into the hallway, she then made her way back to her room. She had walked these halls at night on her own before, however tonight she had a mission, and the fear of someone seeing her was making her nervous. Only when she was safely inside her room with the door locked did she exhale loudly.
When she had realized her brother had no intention of going to rescue Anthony’s child, she had made plans to do so herself. Unfolding the note she had just copied, Claire re-read it, making sure it was clear and concise, as it would be the only aid she had in locating her niece or nephew.
I saw what happened to you in Tuttle Lane, Miss Belmont. Therefore I have decided to give you one more chance, however this time you will have to go to Liverpool to retrieve your brother’s possessions. Anthony Belmont’s battalion passed through my family’s village, and when they left, my sister was carrying his child. She has now passed away, but before her death, she told us who the father was and that she was to contact you, should she need help. My brother and I will wait for seven days at the Anchor tavern every day for an hour from midday. If you do not come, then we will have no choice but to abandon the child, as our ship will leave the following day. I have proof it is of your blood.
She had to go or live with the guilt for the rest of her life. She had pleaded with both her mother and Mathew, both had refused to yield, and now it was up to her to do something. She did not care if the child was French or English or any other nationality. It was Anthony’s; therefore she would care for it as her own.
Tomorrow she was supposed to accompany Eva, Daniel and Georgia to Stratton at ten o’clock, and this had given her the opportunity she needed. In the morning, Claire would send a note to the duchess explaining she was sick and could not accompany her. She would pack her things and make her way to their house at eleven o’clock. She would then send her brother’s carriage home and hire a carriage to take her to Liverpool. Failing this, because she had never hired a carriage, nor knew where to go to do so, she would catch the stagecoach. Mathew would think she was at Stratton, as he did not believe Claire would defy him. Of course, so many things could go wrong with her planning. Eva and Daniel could decide to leave later, for instance, or someone could see her departing London. Yet she had to try. She couldn’t discuss things with anyone, so she had to manage the journey herself, and the thought was terrifying. However, she was an intelligent woman. If her wits did not help, then she had the money she had saved, plus the full purse she’d stolen from her brother to bribe people. Dear lord, she hoped Mathew didn’t blame the staff for the missing money. Claire dismissed this thought; she would deal with that upon her return if it needed to be dealt with.
She would be a young lady traveling alone, as she dared not take her maid because she was a terrible gossip; she had told her she would be using Eva’s for the duration of her visit at Stratton. The journey to Liverpool would take three days, possibly four, and this would create curiosity. But she would have to worry about that, too, as the journey progressed. Claire could not allow herself to waver, because then she would think of the mammoth task before her, and the doubts would choke her.
The night was long, and she thought and re-thought her plans until they were organized in her head. She pictured the child and wondered who the mother was. Would it have Anthony’s eyes or even hers? Eventually exhausted, she dozed, and it was her maid who woke her a few hours later. “Would you like a bath, Miss Belmont?”
Who knew when she would have another? “Yes, please, Janet.”
She ate again in her room and then directed Janet to have her luggage taken down to the carriage. She dressed in peppermint, the color she had been told made her eyes seem almost green instead of the muddy hazel they were, and pulled on a darker pelisse. Tying the ribbons on her straw bonnet, she then studied herself in the mirror. This was a favorite hat of Claire’s and, looking at the mirror, she thought the façade she presented was exactly as it should be: a woman about to embark on a jaunt to the country with her dearest friend. The bonnet framed her face, and the few curls Janet had coaxed free made her look younger than her twenty years. Pinching her cheeks, she tried to put some color in them.
“You may leave now also, Janet, to visit with your family, and I will expect your return one week from today.”
“Oh thank you, Miss Belmont.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Claire then left her room. This would need to be the best acting performance of her life if she was to carry it off.
She tapped on the parlor door minutes later and opened it to find her brother and mother seated in silence. Her brother’s eyes were wary as they looked at her, and he did not rise as he normally did. Lady Belmont looked pale and did not meet Claire’s eyes when she entered.
“I am leaving to accompany the duke and duchess to Stratton. I bid you good-bye, and I have no idea when I will return.”
“Claire, you should eat something.”
“I have no appetite.”
“Please, daughter, do not leave like this–”
“I have nothing further to say to either of you,” she said, cutting off her mother’s words.
It hurt to turn away from them, even knowing they did not want the child. They were her family. Her mother, especially, had been a constant companion in her life since Anthony’s death. She was about to defy them with her actions, and in doing so, would likely ensure they played no part in her future, especially as there would be a child in it.
“We are only–”
She didn’t listen as Mathew spoke. Instead, she walked back out the door before they could see her distress. She closed it firmly behind her, praying silently that it did not open again.
Her feet felt leaden and her heart heavy as she walked down the stairs, her steps faltering when she saw Plimley at the base. If anyone would know she was lying, it was him, so she settled on a version of the truth. “Plimley, I am leaving for the Duke and Duchess of Stratton’s house now.”
He looked at her steadily as she continued down the staircase. “And is Janet to accompany you, Miss Belmont?”
“She is not. I have given her time off to spend with her family. She will return when I do.”
Again, a steady look as she stopped before him on the last step. “I would ask that you send word if at any time you need assistance, Miss Belmont.”
It was silly to want to cry because her brother’s butler was there for her when her family was not. “I…I shall be all right, Plimley, and the country air will be wonderful.”
“And I will reiterate that should you find yourself in any situation that you are not comfortable with, then you need only to send word, and I shall come.”
“Th-thank you, but the duke and duchess will care for me, Plimley.”
He didn’t speak again, simply helped her down the stairs and through the door. He then opened the carriage and settled her inside. “Good-bye, Miss Belmont.”
She wanted to urge Plimley inside with her, make him accompany her to Liverpool, but she could not, as he would think her reckless and alert Mathew. “Good-bye, Plimley.”
She didn’t look back as the carriage made its way out onto the street.
The skies were still grey, although the rains had stopped, and her journey to the Stratton residence took ten minutes, as the hour was early
and the traffic light. By the time her brother’s carriage pulled into the driveway, she was beyond nervous. Claire had managed to leave her house without raising anyone’s suspicions; now she had to get Toddy, her brother’s driver, to drop her off and leave before he was aware that the duke and duchess were not in residence.
“Thank you, Toddy,” Claire said in a brisk manner as the driver opened the door and handed her down. “You may leave after you’ve placed my bags on the front step. I shall simply tell the duchess I am here. We are to leave immediately.”
“I can’t see the carriage,” the driver said, looking around the spacious driveway.
“It will be here in a few minutes, Toddy. Now please, just leave my bags there,” Claire said, pointing to a space beside the steps.
“I’ll knock on the door for you, Miss Belmont. Not right for you to be standing out here alone.”
This was what came of having servants who’d known you since you were a child. They tended to forget you had grown up.
“There really is no need, Toddy–” The rest of Claire’s words died in her throat as she heard the front door open.
Dear god, I am doomed.
“Wernham, you are a prince among men.”
Why did it have to him, of all people, who was about to step outside after, apparently saying good-bye to the Stratton butler?
“The house will be quiet without–Claire?”
“Lord Kelkirk, how wonderful to see you. Are you to accompany us also? What a merry little party we shall be.” Claire made herself smile as she hurried up the steps towards the door, where he now stood. Had she not been terrified, the confused look on his face would have made her laugh.
“Ah, Claire, they have already-”
She dug her fingers into his arm and squeezed, which made him wince. Claire needed to shut him up quickly before he alerted Toddy to the fact that the duke and duchess had already departed for Stratton. Standing on her toes, she brushed a kiss on his cheek and whispered the words. “Please, I’m begging you, just follow my lead.”
