She shrugged and leaned over the table, separating pieces. “That’s very dramatic, Sam.”
He stalked over to her and pulled her towards him. Clara sucked in her breath, disconcerted by their closeness. “Love, that was most definitely not a little kiss.”
Clara’s heart hammered. He was right; it wasn’t a little kiss, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction after his lousy proposal. She didn’t even want him to propose! “It was nothing.”
He leaned in, so he was a breath away from her lips. The connection between them sizzled. He smirked. “Really?”
She pushed him away. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I know you are not used to these things. You're innocent. We could get married,” Sam reasoned.
His practicalness did nothing to cool her anger. “Ha! For being known for such charm your proposal is certainly lacking. You look like you may be sick.”
His eyes narrowed, and he said, “You are misunderstanding—”
“Don’t do me any favors. As we discussed, my purpose in life is to be a well-respected lord’s wife. One kiss won’t change that,” she snapped.
“Clara—”
What was she doing standing here with Sam Kincaide? Why was she mad that he was trying to do the honorable thing? She knew she was being irrational, but it still annoyed her that he appeared to be on the verge of passing out at the thought of marriage to her. She glared at him and said, “No. I don’t need you to marry me so spare me the favor and the sacrifice on your part. I’m suddenly tired. Enjoy your dissection.”
Sam called out to her, but she ignored him. She didn’t need Sam’s pitiful proposal over a kiss. What was she thinking spending time with him?
Chapter 6
April 1842 – London
Clara rode on her horse Tully down the bridleway in Hyde Park, enjoying the unusually sunny weather. The season had started, and everyone had descended upon London ready to be seen. She wasn’t looking forward to all the events but was happy to be in the park with Diana and their brother Henry. She tilted her head to the sky for a brief moment, letting the sun hit her cheeks.
“Careful. You will darken your freckles,” Diana warned.
Eleven-year-old Henry snorted. “Who cares about freckles?”
“We do,” Diana said primly.
Henry rolled his eyes and Diana frowned at him. He pushed his horse into a trot, leaving both Clara and Diana behind. Clara let herself smile at his carefree attitude. Happy that at least someone in their family was not always held to their family’s rigid manners. Unlike Clara and Diana, Henry had some leeway when it came to their parents’ outrageously high standards, likely because he was the heir. Clara should be resentful of his freedom, but she enjoyed his happiness too much. He rounded a bend and Clara urged her horse into a trot to catch up. Diana followed with a gentle trot, having promised Hensley she would not overexert herself. Initially he had pleaded with her not to ride at all, because of the baby, but he eventually gave in, knowing how much she loved it.
As Clara rounded the bend, she came into a clearing next to the Serpentine where their peers were lounging and playing games. She straightened a little, making sure she was perfectly composed. Diana came up next to her, doing the same.
Henry stopped ahead of them, earnestly watching all the activity. He watched the children his age, playing and racing around.
“Do you want to take a break, Henry?” Clara asked.
He nodded with excitement. Clara quickly unhooked her leg from her saddle and slid to the ground. Diana looked at her shocked. Henry joined her and dismounted.
“Clara, we will make a spectacle of ourselves getting back on our horses.”
“Nonsense. We are expert riders.”
Diana followed her lead but explained, “It is not as easy for me in my condition.”
Clara instantly felt guilty for forcing Diana to dismount, not realizing that it may be more difficult for her. “I am so sorry. That was rude and uncaring of me.”
Diana smiled at her and said, “It was, but I forgive you. I am sure we can figure it out.”
They tied their horses up, and Henry darted towards the water, gleeful to be out with the other children. Clara ignored the ladies and gentlemen watching her and her sister. They were always watching, hoping to catch some tidbit about them to share with the scandal sheets.
Further down the grassy field, a group darted around, laughing while playing a game of chase. A lady tumbled over, smiling. A familiar blond man grinned down at her before righting her. Clara’s heart thumped wildly at the sight of Sam Kincaide. She hadn’t seen him since the Adderly’s house party—she swallowed hard—since their kiss. She felt her lips twist into a grimace as Sam clapped his hands and restarted the game. Clara had done her best not to think about him over the winter, but he continually popped up in her thoughts. And in her dreams, she thought, blushing.
