‘I met the Dowager Duchess of Lyonsdale while we both were raising funds for the Hospital. She is still currently on the committee and knows where the records are kept and I asked her to help me. She was the one to find your billet and slipped the token into her reticule.’
He blinked and she didn’t know if it was from shock or from the sunlight in his eyes. ‘She stole it?’
‘Let’s just say it’s on permanent loan to you.’
Her heart was beating so fast she was certain it was visible through her fichu. Part of her had hoped he would come back here after receiving the token. But another part of her had feared it. She had no future with him. It would have been better if she could have just let him go, but she had wanted to give him this gift. And now she knew for certain that watching him leave her this time was going to hurt more than the last.
He searched her face. ‘Why did you go to all that trouble for me?’
‘You deserved to know the truth.’
It was the only reason she was willing to confess to him. There was no sense in letting him know how much she loved him. His future was with someone else.
‘What made you want to help the Hospital? It’s a far enough place from Bath.’
‘When I had lived in London I had another friend who would donate money to it on a regular basis. It was her favourite charity. She suggested that I become involved with it because she thought it might bring me some comfort.’
His forehead wrinkled and he shifted in his seat so he was facing more of her. ‘Comfort? How so?’
She could lie. She could invent an excuse that would have seemed plausible. But that was not who she was. She was done hiding things from the people she cared about. And it was better that he knew this about her in the event her gift to him had him considering that they had a future together.
‘I came to help the Foundling Hospital because I could not have any children of my own. You see, I never was able to carry a child to its birth. My womb has some kind of defect. That is why I never had any children.’
He stilled and, even though he was looking at her, Clara didn’t think he saw her.
‘Is that why you took the waters in Bath?’
She swallowed before nodding slowly. ‘I was advised the waters might strengthen my body. It never did work, but it became a bit of a habit, I suppose. I don’t do it now for that reason, of course. Now it just helps with the occasional ache or two.’
‘I’m sorry. That must not have been easy for you.’
A sympathetic expression showed in his eyes that touched her heart and she had to look away.
‘It wasn’t easy, but in time both Robert and I came to accept it. I wasn’t able to give the Hospital any funds. We frequently didn’t have any to spare. However, being able to help those children in any way I could somehow helped my soul heal from the loss of not having a child.’
‘So, you truly do understand where I come from. That night when I admitted it at the table and we talked afterwards, you knew I was a by-blow before I even informed you of it.’
‘I did and told you that it did not change how I felt about you. I doubt anything could.’
‘Felt...you no longer feel the same way about me?’
‘That night feels like a lifetime ago.’
‘And now?’
He was asking her to explain her feelings to him. How could she when every day she prayed that what she felt for him would soon become a distant memory? She didn’t want to love him. She didn’t want to go through life feeling as if she had lost a part of her heart. ‘Now, I hope that we remain good friends.’
His features hardened and he shook his head. ‘You are telling me that all there is between us is friendship.’
‘That’s all it can be. I am not what you want in life. I am too old for you.’
‘Why don’t you let me decide what it is I want in life?’ His voice was sharp which took her aback.
If she left it up to him, it would mean that her heart would suffer even greater pain when he realised he wanted a family and not her. She didn’t know if she would be able to endure that.
* * *
Lane had kept the token on his person ever since he had opened the parcel three days ago. It was a relief to find out his name, but the reason he had kept it with him was that it was a constant reminder that Clara had not forgotten him...that maybe, just maybe, she loved him the way he loved her.
But carrying a token around would not mend his broken heart. Only Clara could do that. She was all he wanted in his life. Everything else dimmed in comparison. He didn’t have much experience expressing his emotions. He had done everything he could in his life to hide any sign of vulnerability. But for Clara, he couldn’t allow this thing between them to fade away. He wanted her and he was going to do everything he could to make her understand that.
He let out an uneven breath and held her gaze. ‘I think what is between us is more than friendship.’
She closed her eyes. ‘Please don’t.’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Letting you go is hard enough. Don’t make it worse.’
‘Then don’t let me go.’
When she opened her eyes, he saw pain there. ‘We have no future together. It is better if we don’t prolong this.’
‘You don’t want a future with me?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Then what are you saying?’
‘I’m saying you deserve more in life than I can give you.’ There was a catch in her voice.
‘You are what I want in my life. You are the only thing.’
‘You say that now and maybe you mean it, but you will not feel that way ten years from now. You deserve to have that family that you were denied years ago. I cannot give that to you.’ There was a pleading sound in her voice as she turned away from him. She was asking him to end this conversation and she might even be wanting him to leave.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
‘All I want is you.’ He placed his hand gently on her clasped hands when what he really wanted to do was hold her tightly and not let her go. ‘Clara, look at me... Clara.’
She turned with tears streaming down her beautiful face. His heart twisted a bit more as he placed soft kisses on her eyelids in an attempt to stop her tears.
‘You are all the family I need. I have never had a father and have no idea how to be one. While I have thought of having children, I cannot miss anything that I have not had. I cannot miss children that do not exist. We don’t need children to be a family, Clara. You and I are all the family I could ever want.’
‘You may change your mind.’
‘Clara, if having children in my life were that important to me, don’t you think I would have made an effort to have them by now? I have been out on my own for over twenty years now. In all that time, not once has there ever been anyone who I have wanted to carry my child. I have never found anyone who I care about as much as I do you. I love you.’
He had thought when he finally said those words to her they would feel awkward on his tongue. Yet saying them now, saying them to her, just felt so natural. He needed her to understand how much he loved and cherished her. He needed her to know that she meant the world to him and that he knew she always would.
Leaning down, he softly brushed the tears from her cheeks and placed his lips on hers for a gentle kiss. It was a kiss that was meant to convey all the things that he felt about her that he could not put into words. In his heart, he hoped she loved him, too.
She moved her head back and their eyes met. He had never seen anyone look at him the way Clara was looking at him now. ‘I do love you,’ she said. ‘I love you so much and I am terrified that I will lose you.’
The words hit his chest. In all his life, no one had ever told him that they loved him. He wasn’t prepared for how much those words would affec
t him.
‘You will never lose me, Clara. I want to be with you always.’
What started out as a gentle caress of his lips against hers became much more urgent as she opened herself up to him and pulled him in closer. Their tongues glided over each other’s with a passion that had him wanting her so much more—needing her so much more. Her hands slid up into his hair and with each stroke of his tongue against hers, she tangled her fingers through his hair and gave a gentle tug.
He wanted to possess her completely. His hands moved to her breasts, confined in her stays and in her soft cotton gown. The passionate need inside him was growing. He needed to touch her bare skin and broke the kiss to trail his lips down the column of her neck. She smelled faintly of roses and it had become his favourite scent.
She was working at the knot of his cravat and her breathing was becoming laboured.
‘I want you,’ he said into her collarbone, licking her skin and gently squeezing her full round breasts. ‘I want to be with you more than anything.’
His cravat was tossed to the floor and she worked his coat over his shoulders. ‘I want that, too,’ she replied, breathlessly tilting her head to give him better access to the base of her neck.
She clung to him as he laid her down and trailed his hand up her leg. His desire for her was overriding everything else as he skimmed his fingers up the soft skin of her thigh until he couldn’t go any further and he sank his fingers into her warmth. He could feel her work the buttons of the fall of his breeches as she periodically arched her back as he moved his hand faster.
When she climaxed with a soft cry, he was aching for her. He was aching to fill her and claim her as his own. Her delicate hand encircled his length with a firm grip and slid up and down.
‘I want this. I want you,’ she said in between kisses.
And as he slid himself inside her for the first time, she grasped his forearms while they watched each other intently with their foreheads touching. It didn’t take long before they found a rhythm all their own through their laboured breathing. Being inside her was something he had been imagining for weeks. The reality of it was so much better. A hot tide of passion claimed them both and when they came together, his primal groan filled the room.
He rested his forehead on her shoulder as they both tried to catch their breath. She played with the waves of his hair near his collar, content to lay in his arms.
Eventually he picked his head up and looked at her. ‘The next time we do that, we will do it in a proper bed and neither one of us will have a stitch of clothing on.’
‘You sound rather confident that it will happen again.’
‘I am. When I sleep beside you every night, it’s bound to happen again a time or two.’
‘Only a time or two?’
He wanted this. He wanted her. For ever. And the fact that she wasn’t dispelling the notion made his heart feel as though it had grown in size.
‘A time or two each night.’ He needed her to know he was serious about this. He needed her to know that he wanted her for ever with every fibre of his being. ‘I love you. I did not say that to get under your skirts. I meant it.’
‘I know you did.’
He moved off her and help her up so that they were sitting side by side. They took their time fixing their clothing in silence for which he was grateful since he had to compose his thoughts. When he was ready, he turned to her.
‘I know you said you would never marry again for fear of losing control of your financial independence. That in order to feel secure, you need to own your hotel. We can draw up contracts and whatever is needed to indicate that you would remain its sole owner should you marry me. I will do anything for you not to fear for your future again. And I meant that you are everything in this world that I need. I don’t need your hotel. I need you and want to spend the rest of my life with you in my arms. I want to marry you, Clara, if you’ll have me.’
There was a catch to her breath and she brought her hand up to her lips. ‘You mean that, don’t you? You truly do.’ In her eyes, he saw it. He saw that she knew for certain there was no hesitation on his part. She knew he was earnest in his proposal.
‘I will marry you, William. I will.’
He hadn’t had anyone call him by that name in years. The sound of it on her lips touched a part of him that he didn’t even know existed. His heart was ready to burst. And more than anything he was grateful that he had found her and that she would be calling him that every day for the rest of their lives.
Epilogue
Two months later...
Clara stood on a chair in the storeroom of the White Bear, counting out the coffee pots that were kept on the top shelf on the wall opposite the closed door. Below her, her husband stood with his ledger book and pencil, waiting for her to tell him how many pots were in this room.
‘That’s twenty-seven. Although this one might have a crack in it,’ she said, turning with the white-porcelain pot in her hand and tilting it towards the window. ‘It’s either not been washed well or that is a crack.’ Rubbing her finger over the line, she was able to confirm that there was indeed a crack in the porcelain.
William wrote the number down in his ledger, took the pot from her hand and placed it on the lowest shelf. ‘I suppose one out of this entire storeroom isn’t too bad.’
‘The crack is very small. I could see how someone else might have missed it. Especially if they were putting them away late at night.’
Just as she lowered her hands and wiped them on her apron, he stepped closer and trailed his fingers under her skirt and up the back of her leg. The sensation sent a delicious shiver to her most intimate places.
‘I thought you said you needed my help with inventory since Mr Sanderson is visiting his sick mother.
‘I did. We are finished and I thought I’d show you my appreciation.’
‘We are in the storeroom.’
‘That never stopped us before,’ he offered with a lift of his brow.
His hand travelled up over her knee and Clara had to hold on to his shoulders to steady herself. A small satisfied smile lifted the corner of his mouth. Just as his hand begin to skim up her thigh, there was a knock on the door behind him. His hand froze.
‘Yes,’ he called out, not breaking their gaze.
‘There is someone here to see you, sir,’ Hatchard replied through the door. The young man who they had hired from the Foundling Hospital was settling in nicely, assisting Mr Sanderson here in the coffee house.
The disappointment on William’s face was obvious as he removed his hand from Clara’s thigh and helped her down from the chair.
‘Did you have an appointment?’ she asked, shaking out her skirt.
‘No.’
He opened the door and startled the slight, dark-haired young man who immediately averted his eyes. Did all of their employees assume when they were spending time in the storeroom that they weren’t exactly working? She had only been in that room four times with him.
‘Do you know who it is, Hatchard?’
‘Yes, sir, it’s the Dowager Duchess of Lyonsdale.’ From the expression on his face when he said Eleanor’s name it was apparent that this might have been the first time he had spoken with anyone of her elevated station in Society.
‘Where did you put her?’ he asked.
‘She told me she would wait for you and Mrs Lane in your office.’
‘Very good. Thank you for coming to get me.’
His smile of encouragement seemed to bolster the young man’s spirits since Hatchard stood a bit taller when he tipped his head respectfully at William and then at Clara before heading down the corridor to the shop.
William looked across at his closed office door and then over at Clara. ‘For a woman who wanted to be a silent investor in our spa, she seems to want to talk about it a lot.’
‘S
he is excited about the prospect. You should be happy. This spa was your idea.’
‘I am and you know how much I like her, but if the two of you are going to discuss colour choices for the walls again, I think I’ll find something else to count in the storeroom.’ He turned as if to go back inside and Clara tugged him around by his arm.
‘We were enjoying ourselves.’
Talking with Eleanor about the decorating scheme for the hotel after the ground floor was converted to a bathing spa was fun. She enjoyed picking out colours with her friend. But after a half an hour of their discussion two days ago, she could see her husband’s eyes glaze over. This was not the aspect of the business he enjoyed the most. Fortunately for him, it was one of her favourites.
‘You have my word. If she is here to bring me samples of paint, you can find any excuse you like to leave. I will not think you rude.’ She kissed his cheek for good measure.
‘Very well. I will take my paperwork from the stables and head home. I can work at my desk in our parlour just as easily as I can here.’
When he opened the door, they found Eleanor standing by the window, looking outside. She turned with a smile when she saw them.
‘You have been spending quite a bit of time here this week and I wasn’t far so I thought I would see if you were here first before I went to your home.’
‘Please, have a seat,’ Clara said, gesturing to the pair of chairs in front of William’s desk. She knew that look in Eleanor’s eyes. Some exciting bit of gossip was about to make the rounds of Bath.
‘Do you recall the other night you said the Col-lingswoods had been particularly quiet and you thought they might have returned to London without saying goodbye?’
Clara and William exchanged glances. Now they would find out why the house next door had been dark for the past week. Eleanor always seemed to find out things other people could not.
‘Well,’ she continued, sitting on the edge of her chair, ‘I received a letter from Greeley today. He was writing to thank me for introducing him to Miss Collingswood. It seems that your Harriet had been introduced to another man while you were on your honeymoon and Greeley was away working on Lyonsdale House. This gentleman had just become a baron and showed interest in Harriet. Her parents had favoured the match and were actively attempting to keep Harriet and Greeley apart.’
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