Sam smiled at Clara, hoping to put her at ease. He scooped her up. “Now, Mrs. Kincaide, it is time for bed.”
She laughed and Sam rushed up the stairs.
Chapter 23
The next day Clara stepped out of the carriage at her sister’s townhouse. She made her way to the door but before she could knock, Hensley opened it, almost running into her. His eyes widened in surprise to see her. “Clara, it’s been so long. Why haven’t we seen you lately?”
He smiled, truly happy to see her. “Diana has missed your visits.”
She laughed quietly and said, “Well things are better now with everyone.”
He immediately sobered, as if just remembering she was ruined. “Yes, I forgot about that nonsense. You know you would have always been welcomed here.”
She smiled slyly at him. “If only so Diana had someone to ride with.”
Hensley laughed loudly, his whole large frame shaking. “Very true. Well, I am glad you are back to visiting.”
“It is nice to see you, Hensley,” she said.
He leaned in and whispered, “Your mother is in there.”
Clara felt her stomach drop. She wasn’t expecting to see her and knew that there was always a difference in how her mother acted in public and in private. “Thank you for telling me,” she whispered back.
“Don’t let her order you around,” he muttered before continuing on his way.
Clara sighed, not looking forward to seeing her mother. She stepped through the door and heard voices in the drawing room. The butler opened the door for her, and she smiled in return. Diana and her mother turned in her direction. Diana immediately smiled at the sight of her. She practically glowed and Clara knew it was because of the round bump hidden beneath her dress.
“You look lovely, Diana,” she said, joining them.
She lowered herself delicately onto an ivory chair. Her mother's lips pinched. “I was just telling her it is best for her not to be out at events. She is showing too much. Her face is very full.”
Diana flushed in embarrassment. “I am well aware, Mother. I was just telling Hensley I would be cancelling our future engagements.”
Clara frowned at Diana. “I do not see anything unseemly about your appearance.”
Her mother glared at her. It wasn’t often either of them contradicted her opinion. Clara braced for her sharp words but instead her mother said demurely, “I wasn’t suggesting otherwise.”
Clara and Diana stared at her in stunned silence. Her mother still looked like she wanted to say something cross but sat quietly. Clara smoothed out her yellow dress and pushed her shoulders back. Why did good etiquette make her feel so much better? The silence in Diana’s lovely airy room was awkward to the extent that Clara wished she had an excuse to leave. Finally, she said, “How are you, Mother?”
Her mother lifted her teacup, taking a sip. The awkwardness increased. She was toying with them. Clara hated this about her mother; her ability to identify anyone’s weakness or insecurities and use them to her benefit. She knew both her and Diana would hold their breath waiting for her response.
“I am well, Clara, as well as can be after the season we have had, but your father and I will be fine. Most do not judge us for your actions.”
There they were, the sharp words Clara had been waiting for. She stared at her mother demurely and told herself to remember Henry. “Well, I am glad we can move past that.”
Her mother smirked at her, and Clara had a sense of foreboding. Her mother wasn’t over it. It made her wonder why she had decided to accept her marriage to Sam and invite them to dinner.
“Yes, we can. I can’t control your choices.”
Her mother rose, causing both Clara and Diana to stand. Clara studied her. She was perfect. Her pale blonde hair only had hints of grey, her skin was flawless, and she was dressed in an exquisite blue dress that emphasized her slender waist. Clara knew that she was staring at a mirror image of herself in twenty years, and she didn’t like what she saw.
“I will see you both at the dinner your father and I are hosting. Make sure your husband is dressed appropriately,” she said to Clara.
Clara hated her mother and her little digs, but she would not respond.
Her mother made her way to the door but stopped and turned back to her. “Are you still spending time with Lady Hawley?”
“She is my friend,” Clara stated.
