They were stopped outside of the drawing room door. A footman stood outside, and Henry nodded to him. The man opened the door, and they stepped in. Her mother and Diana rose in greeting.
Clara nodded back and Diana and her mother sat back down. Henry practically skipped to the sofa where Diana sat, plopping down next to her. Clara made her way over to an exquisite chair with embroidered flower detail. Every item in the room was perfection. She sat quietly while the maid poured tea before leaving.
She looked over at Diana and smiled. Her sister was reaching the end of her pregnancy. She was happy to see her out and about.
“You are looking well, Diana,” she said quietly.
Diana smiled and patted her stomach. “Well and round.”
Her mother eyed her sister and said, “You will have to be very careful about your diet following the birth. You have overindulged.”
Diana flushed.
Henry peered at her. “I think you look beautiful.”
Clara smiled at her brother, happy that his kindness seemed to escape the bounds of the strict rules and judgement they all grew up around.
“Of course, Mother,” Diana said.
Her mother nodded approvingly and turned to Clara. “Did you enjoy the dinner yesterday?”
Clara nodded. “I did, Mother. Thank you for being so welcoming to me and my husband.”
Her mother’s lips pursed together. “Well, we must move on.”
Clara nodded, happy she felt that way.
“Still, I must warn you that there is a great deal of talk about him and his common background.”
Clara flushed and Diana frowned at their mother. Henry continued to eat a tart oblivious to their discussion.
“I have no problems with his background. He is a fine man,” Clara bit out.
Her mother tilted her head and studied her. “Do you really think so? Do you not question some of his more underhanded tactics?”
Clara’s brows drew together in confusion. What was her mother talking about?
Her mother smiled amused at her. “Ahh...so your husband doesn’t share much with you.”
“Mother—” Diana warned.
“Do you not wonder why we are so welcoming of you?” she asked, bitterness enveloping her words.
“What are you talking about?” Clara demanded.
Her mother placed her teacup on the table. She smoothed out her dress and sat quietly. Clara was tempted to demand again but knew that was just what her mother was waiting for. She waited, silently fuming.
“You see, your father and I have gotten into a pinch of trouble. We had to take some loans. Quite common as you know in our circles. We would have been fine, but your husband stepped in and bought our debt.”
Clara pulled her hand to her mouth horrified and shook her head. Sam wouldn’t do that. He would have told her. What was he up to? A kernel of uncertainty bloomed within her.
“He is using it against us as a way to make sure you are accepted into society.”
“You lie,” Clara whispered.
Her mother glared at her, and Clara knew what she said was the truth. “Only someone common would resort to such a tactic. Look what his brother did to his own family to win back his title.”
“It was his title,” Clara pointed out.
