“Our father tasked me with interjecting on his behalf and reporting back to him immediately if I suspect our poor Christopher of falling under the entrapment of a woman’s guiles again. I’m his voice of reason, as it were.”
“Of course, Lord Briarwood. I would never presume that you had ulterior motives, save for aiding your brother in such a delicate time of decision.” Claire felt her body go numb. It reminded her of when she first came under the employ of Madame Kingston, forced to keep the company of men for survival. She found herself compartmentalizing the situation she was in, so as to avoid being hurt as much as possible. Claire didn’t bother to look to see Lord Briarwood’s reaction to her snub. She could feel tension and anger increasing around her.
She was glad when the dinner was excused, and the men remained behind for an after-dinner cigar and brandy. She retired to the parlor for tea and biscuits with the other women, which gave her a chance to speak with Lady Catherine in private.
“Is it true? Did he write to Lord Desmond?” she asked.
“Yes, he told me it came just before we came tonight. Lady Claire, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. If I had, I…”
“Well, this is a surprise,” the Duchess cut in. “The infamous Lady Catherine keeping to herself and her own private company. I must say, I’m sorely disappointed. In the past, you’ve always proven to be my most source of entertainment.”
“I apologize, Duchess. Perhaps I am not feeling well. Let’s permit the duck en glaze to settle in my stomach. Then we shall see what poisonous entertainment I can cook up for you.” Lady Catherine gave the Duchess her most sincere smile, and she returned it just as sickly sweet as Lady Catherine had delivered her insult. The Duchess moved away without another word to either of them, her posse of women trailing along behind her.
“I really can’t stand that woman,” Lady Catherine sighed.
“I don’t suppose we are anywhere near being finished with this evening, are we?” Lady Claire asked. She too felt the bone-weary anxiety of the night’s social engagement. Claire didn’t know why she felt so betrayed by Christopher. She thought in all the time they were together in her room, confiding in one another, he might have mentioned his previous betrothal. Now she was left wondering what had happened. Did he call off the engagement? Did she? Why? What became of the woman? Claire wanted nothing more than to retreat to her room back at the townhouse. After a few hours and several snarky comments, Claire found herself back in the carriage to get her wish.
As she trudged up the stairs to her room, she bade goodnight to Lord Desmond and Lady Catherine. She was too disheartened to discuss the revelations of the night further, and she opened the door to her room. She never saw the arm come out of the dark and wrap around her waist, effectively silencing her. A voice whispered in her ear, “shh, it’s me. Edward.”
When he let her go, she spun around in horror to see her brother standing in her bedroom, a mischievous grin on his face.
Chapter 8
“Edward, what are you doing here?” she gasped. He looked older than she remembered. His face was pinched with lines of age, and his clothes were tattered.
“What, you’re not happy to see your brother?” Claire watched as he skulked around the room. When he passed by her, she caught his smell in her nose. She was certain he had not bathed in months. In truth, Claire hadn’t wondered what had happened to him very much. She assumed when they were turned out on the streets that he had perished within the ravages of the ton’s underbelly. When they were homeless, she wasted no time setting herself up with a place to go.
She saw the day coming before the solicitor informed them on behalf of the bank that they were being kicked out. The issues started small: at first, he sold a few trinkets here and there. Then the livestock began to go, as did the few servants and estate caretakers. There was no use paying their wages with no work to be done.
She recalled when some of the nicer elements of their home began to disappear, including the jewels and baubles from Claire’s personal wardrobe. She assumed he liquidated assets of their father’s business to save them long before the house began to disassemble.
Now, Claire watched his familiar prowl, looking for anything of value. She was glad that, as grand as her chambers were, there wasn’t anything of note for him to pilfer.
When furniture, the fine silver and cutlery, the china, and the silk linens began emptying out of their childhood home, Claire began considering what she would do. She first tried to engage as much as she could with men of the area, but none were willing to take her without a dower. She realized the irony of women feeling like property, because before she even walked into Madame Kingston’s establishment, she had resigned herself to the fact that she would need to sell herself nightly in order to survive.
“To be honest, I haven’t considered you one way or another, Edward.” She said the words quietly, and was glad her voice didn’t shake. What she wasn’t expecting was when he whipped around and struck her across the face. She staggered and held her cheek.
“I am still your brother. I am responsible for you, and you will show me respect.” His eyes blazed with fury and Claire was afraid he would strike her again, but she had lost all respect for him and felt no allegiance to him. She refused to cower.
“If you hit me again, I will have you thrown out in the streets where you came from,” she told him. He stopped pacing and faced her. She wondered if he would advance on her, but he blinked and a moment later, smiled.
“My apologies, Claire. I lost my temper. You certainly seem to be doing very well for yourself.” He looked around the room. Claire did not want to offer any further detail regarding her status; she knew she was in a precarious position. Even though his actions caused her to be kicked out onto the streets and he completely abandoned her, law dictated that as her older brother, he still had control over her fate and well-being.
“This is the home of a friend,” she explained vaguely. She wondered how he had known she was here. What had he heard? Did he think she married into wealth and would provide for him? Or worse, take everything from her again to enable his gambling habits?
“I am aware,” he answered. “The Baron of Clearwater. You do aspire to lofty heights. Which leads me to wonder what you were doing in the White Chapel District just a few days ago. You see, my sweet naïve Claire, I followed you back here. I’ve kept an eye on you, even if you didn’t know I was around. For a while now, actually. I was so terrified thinking about what had ever become of my sweet sister. You marched out of the house that day without a word or a look. One might have thought that you made up your mind to turn your back on our family long before that day.”
“Is there really no culpability, Edward?” she asked, exasperated. “You have nothing to say regarding the gambling debts that forced us out of our home?”
“I told you. It was an oversight at the banks, Claire.” Claire turned away, not fooled for a moment. Why did he think she was such a simpleton? Claire whirled back around to look at him.
“What do you want, Edward? I assume it’s money. I don’t have any. I never did. I am here at the good graces of a friend.”
“Well, if they are so graceful, then they won’t mind sharing a little more for your estranged brother, will they?”
Claire couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Edward, it isn’t that simple…” she started.
“Actually, it is. They have money and you are going to get some for me by any means necessary. Or I will make sure everyone knows exactly where you have been the last few years and the...occupations you kept.” He smiled like a cat who had just cornered a mouse. Claire swallowed hard. She could ask Lord Desmond or Lady Catherine for money and they would most likely give it to her. But what if they asked what it was for? There was no way they would give her brother money. This left her with one other option, and she refused to steal from her friends.
“Go ahead, Edward. Tell people. I’ve always assumed this wouldn’t last forever. Try to black
mail me,” she told him. Claire notched her chin a little bit higher in defiance, and he laughed bitterly.
“You’re going to get it for me, Claire. You’ve become accustomed to your comforts, and I will not be snubbed. In a few days, I will come to collect. Be ready.”
With that he turned, walked to the balcony door, and let himself out. After he descended the steps, Claire crumbled onto the floor. Her cheek stung, but her pride hurt far worse. Would he really call her bluff? Sure, some people knew of her ruse, but what if he went to someone who had the potential to ruin her or the Desmonds? Claire pondered whether she should just pack her things, return to Madame Kingston’s, and spare everyone the hassle. Claire didn’t bother to rise from the floor. She stayed there, crying and rocking herself to sleep.
She didn’t realize she had slept the whole night on the hard floor until Sarah came in and gasped. “Lady Claire, are you all right?” She knelt in front of Claire who sat up, blinking. Her cheek ached. She touched it and winced, wondering if Edward broke her cheek bone.
“Yes, I’m alright.”
“What happened?” Sarah looked around the room searching for the cause of the bruising, but Claire just shrugged. “Shall I go get some ice?”
“No,” she replied. “No, that’s alright. I’ll be fine. I think I’ll just stay in today, though.” She looked longingly at the bed. Her body ached, and she wondered how she slept on such a hard bed for so many years. The floor had been brutal to her.
“My Lady,” Sarah began, a conflicted look on her face. “I would love to tuck you in with some hot stones and a hot meal on a tray, but the Marquess of Briarwood is here to see you for morning call.”
Claire groaned; she really didn’t want to see him today. The events of last night overwhelmed her mind. Plus, she now had too many questions about Christopher’s own motivations.
“Please tell him I am not up for company this morning,” she said.
“He said you might say that. He also said if that were the case, to tell you he would be back for afternoon tea, and then tonight he would greet you for dinner. Lord and Lady Desmond didn’t think anything of it. In fact, they were quite impressed by his persistence to explain things to you, so they invited him to dinner for as long as it takes until you hear him out.” Sarah looked helpless at her own words.
“It’s alright, Sarah,” she reassured her. “I will just go get this over with.”
Sarah helped her to her feet, and she didn’t even bother to change into a morning dress or fix her updo from last night. Sections of hair had fallen out around her face and shoulders. She was resigned. She would not insult her kind friends on behalf of her brother, so she only had one option left. It was good she had kept the grey dress; a woman of ill-repute was not meant to be garbed in fancy linens. She might as well look the part of harlot if she was going to be forced back to that lifestyle.
Claire marched down the stairs toward the parlor. She paused outside the door, took a deep breath, and opened the doors. She did not knock or wait for an invitation. When she entered, Lady Catherine gasped. Lord Desmond and Christopher surged to their feet at the sight of the bruise on her face.
“Lady Claire, what happened?” The hysteria in Lady Catherine’s voice was apparent. “However did you get that bruise?” She ran forward and called for Sarah.
“It’s alright, Lady Catherine. It was my brother. He’s found me,” Claire said glumly. She was swallowing against the lump in her throat. She blinked and then looked up at Christopher and Lord Desmond. “He is blackmailing me. He says he will disclose our secret of my past should I not provide him with money. As I-”
“We will-” Lord Desmond interjected, but Claire was already shaking her head.
“No, Lord Desmond. I won’t let him rob any of you of your wealth, no matter how measly his price may seem at first. It will never end. I will not let him soil your reputation, either.”
“Lady Claire, be reasonable. One man is not so difficult to deal with,” Lord Desmond said softly.
“I can assure you, Lord Desmond. He is quite crafty. He will not stop until he ruins us all.”
After a moment of silence, Christopher’s voice filled the room. “Well, what if we could ensure that if his testimony is given, it wouldn’t matter?” He had a small smile on his face.
“I am unsure what it is you are speaking of, Marquess. How could this be possible?”
“It’s possible if you agree to wed me. I don’t care about the gossip, the rumors, or the daft opinion of my brother.”
Claire stared at him in disbelief. Was that a proposal? Lady Catherine’s hand went in front of her face and she was smiling, as was Lord Desmond. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” she finally blurted.
“You don’t understand when someone is proposing to you?” he asked.
“Oh, no. I do understand that. I suppose I don’t understand how you wouldn’t care about being ruined by the ton.”
“Because their opinion is subjective, Lady Claire. I have my own financial holdings with business in the Colonies. I run the estates here in London, but if they choose to shun me, I have other venues to utilize. But in truth, I have never concerned myself too much with gossip mongering.”
Claire was unsure how to respond. She looked between Lady Catherine and Lord Desmond.
“What about the two of you? You have already been involved in so much unnecessary scandal. I couldn’t ask…”
“It was one of our own making, and we worked it out in the end, Lady Claire. You are a good person and we want to see you thrive. A match with the Marquess is good for you. And if I daresay, there are mutual feelings involved?” Lady Catherine’s words were kind and Claire wanted to hug her.
“I don’t know what to say.” She was so overcome with emotion that had a hard time speaking.
“Say yes. We will ride out the aftermath of the scandal together.”
“Yes, but your brother-”
“He has been after the Briarwood estate for years. Do you honestly think going rogue hasn’t crossed my mind, Lady Claire? We’ve not had a chance to discuss my prior betrothal, but he made up his mind long ago. His objective is to see me to ruin, or in a perpetual state of bachelorhood for the rest of my days.”
Claire nodded. Even she had picked that up from Lord Briarwood. His jealousy was almost palpable. “Are you absolutely sure, Christopher? This all seems so rushed.” She looked between them again and he stepped forward, taking her hands into his own.
“I wish I had all the time and leisure in the world to court you, Lady Claire. But if we are forced to this, so be it. We will rush now and then have the rest of our lives to rekindle our friendship and discover the joys of marriage together.”
Claire couldn’t believe her ears. He was saying everything she had hoped to hear for so long. “Alright. I say yes. Yes, Christopher.”
The smile he gave her was enough to melt her heart. She didn’t know how they would make it through the other side of the scandal they were about to cause, but she knew she would not want to go through it with anyone else.
Chapter 9
Claire spent the next two days in utter chaos. They decided that they would wed on the eve her brother was supposed to return and let all the cards fall at once. Lady Catherine kept Claire occupied with details of the small secretive wedding that she was putting together, although Claire wished such a fuss wasn’t being made on her behalf. Lady Catherine wished she were more enthusiastic about it all, but Claire felt she was holding her breath through all of the preparations, waiting for them to be caught. In truth, she only had one wish regarding her wedding: she really wanted Madame Kingston to be in attendance. She knew it was foolish to hope for such a thing. Even if Madame Kingston was invited and agreed to come, she wasn’t sure that anyone else would appreciate her presence in the house.
The Baron was left out of the preparations. The less people who knew about it, the better. Although, Lady Sophia came for tea the day before the ceremony and she was l
et in on the secret. She was beside herself with excitement, and immediately began putting her head together with Lady Catherine to help with preparations. Claire watched as they assessed her wedding dress and pointed out areas for poor Sarah to make adjustments. Claire tried to explain that she was capable of sewing and could make the changes herself.
Claire thought the dress was stunning; it was more than she deserved. How fast everything was moving made her head spin. One moment, she was questioning the motives of Christopher, and the next, she was betrothed to him. They had not been permitted to see each other since the proposal. He stayed away so as to avoid the scandal breaking early, but she missed the comfort of his quiet reassurance.
Claire made her way up to bed that night and couldn’t sleep. She wondered where they might go if his family disowned him. The Colonies? She never considered traveling before. Would they go abroad to France, perhaps? She was sure wherever they ended up, she was going to miss the company of Lady Catherine, Lady Sophia, and the comfort of knowing Madame Kingston was close by. Claire fell into a fitful sleep. She dreamed of her parents, which was something she had not done in a very long time.
When she awoke, the sky was bleak as was her mood. She didn’t understand why she wasn’t happy. She had fantasized about being with Christopher for so long, and now her wedding day was here. But she felt cheated of the full experience because of her brother. He had stolen so much from her: her childhood home, her welfare, her happiness. He forced her into a life of shame and disgrace, and even held sway over her fate now because of his actions.
Claire turned and looked toward the balcony, half expecting him to burst through the doors with a mad look in his eye, claiming he had outed them and foiled their plan. Instead, what she found was a note and a single long stem rose on the opposite pillow. The note read:
Fated by the Marquess: Clean Regency Romance (A Rogue's Courtship Book 3) Page 6
