Her brother looked at her one last time before dashing out the door.
“Please sit, Clara. We raised you better than to loiter in the doorway,” her mother chided.
Clara made her way to one of the cream sofas that complimented the floral wingback chairs her parents sat in. Clara sat as she studied them. They were physically the perfect picture of a lord and lady. Her mother with her pale blonde hair and slender figure was still beautiful. Her father had only grown more distinguished with passing time. She’d spent her entire life wanting their attention but the story in the paper of them helping Dolan finally confirmed what she tried to deny her entire life, that they cared for no one but themselves.
She felt a lump form in her throat. Even with everything they had done she felt pain for what she was about to do.
“This is most inappropriate showing up here without sending a note,” her mother chastised.
“Did you help Dolan?”
Her father, who generally ignored her, folded his paper, and looked at her directly. She searched his face for any emotion, but it was devoid of it. Her mother on the other hand scowled at her.
“Dolan has an impeccable reputation,” her mother stated.
“Really? That is not what the paper indicates.”
Her father rolled his eyes. “Those women were only after some coin.”
Fury welled in Clara’s chest. It was partially for the women but also for every moment they had manipulated her and Diana for their own gain.
She lifted her chin and stared at them defiantly. “And what about me? You were willing to betroth me to him.”
Her mother sighed. “You should have been so lucky, Clara. Instead, you lowered yourself to be with that scoundrel.”
“His name is Samuel Kincaide,” Clara bit out.
Her mother sighed again, and her father said nothing.
“Dolan’s treatment of these women was atrocious. Knowing this, you chose to wed me to him.”
Her parents said nothing, and they stared at each other silently. Finally, her father said, “You are a lady.”
Clara closed her eyes, horrified at her father’s statement. As if his title would have somehow saved her from Dolan. She pushed away the pain and said, “My husband owns a great deal of your debt.”
“Only because he is unscrupulous,” her mother explained with disdain. Her father remained silent.
“You are okay with Dolan holding your debt but not Sam,” Clara demanded.
Her mother started to speak, and Clara shook her head. “No, I want Father to answer.”
Her father’s eyes turned cold. “Your role in life was to marry well. That was your only responsibility. You have tarnished our lineage. I have nothing to say to you.”
And there it was. She and Diana never mattered to him. It should break her heart, but it was something she had always known. Her etiquette training finally paid off. She squared her shoulders and looked back at him.
“I am taking Henry with me,” she stated.
Her parents looked at each other amused. Clara continued, “My husband holds your debt. If you do not agree to my terms, then you will lose everything. The vultures will come and pick off everything you own. It will be you in the scandal sheets that everyone is talking about.”
They both laughed as if she had told them the silliest joke, but Clara glared back at them. “I can assure you this isn’t a laughing matter. There is no one to help you.”
They both smirked at her, and she glared back at them. “Do you really think Dolan will step in and help with the scandal surrounding all of you?”
Both her parents froze, as if the thought had never occurred to them. She wanted to feel triumph, but all she felt was disgust.
“Without him, you will have to deal with the consequences of your poor choices when my husband demands what you owe him.”
Her father, for the first time, looked upset. He pinched his lips together. Her mother snapped at her, “You would never allow any of that to happen.”
