He cared far more deeply, though, about how such gossip would affect Clarissa. She was generally known as a woman of great dignity and decorum, someone who had never set a foot wrong sinceher marriage to the late earl despite the provocation of his adulterous behavior. She was deeply respected by all and loved by many.
It would be a great scandal if now, alone at Ravenswood without the support of her family around her, her name became coupled with his. There must be some, of course, who would remember that he was a gentleman by birth and the owner of a manor house and sizable park and farm ten miles away. But even those who did remember would say his virtual rejection of his birthright for the past twenty-some years, his chosen profession—if it could be called that—and his choice of abode and friends disqualified him from being accorded the deference a gentleman might expect. Certainly those facts set him universes apart from the Dowager Countess of Stratton.
It simply would not do, Matthew decided, trying to bring his mind into focus on the inlaid mosaic he was creating for the tabletop out of wood of various shades. He would go this afternoon since he had said he would. But that must be it. With her permission, he would let it be known that he was working on a project for the dowager, designing and making a gift she wished to give the child whom Ben Ellis and his wife were expecting. Such a story would probably not put an immediate end to the gossip, but if there was nothing further to feed it, then eventually everyone would shrug and assume that their meetings must have been for the principal purpose of planning the project. There would be those, of course, who would not quickly let go of the damning detail of the hand-holding. But if there was no more…
Matthew returned to his work.
Chapter Eight
Clarissa called at Cartref early on Tuesday morning. Sir Ifor and Lady Rhys were to leave for their annual family visit to Wales before nine o’clock, and Clarissa knew they liked to be punctual. Along with a number of other people, she had given them her best wishes after church on Sunday, but they had always been close personal friends, even before their daughter married her eldest son. Now the three of them shared two grandchildren.
She went to see them on their way and found them just getting up from the breakfast table and being fussed over by their son, Idris, and Eluned, his wife, who would not be accompanying them. Idris was exhorting his father to take the journey in more gradual stages than was his custom.
“Just remember, Dad, that Mam is not as young as she used to be,” he said.
Lady Rhys turned back to her son after greeting Clarissa. “Well, there is cheeky you are getting, Idris,” she said. “I am not in my dotage yet, young man.”
He threw up his hands, palms out. “It is just a suggestion, Mam,” he said. “But you know how you sometimes complain that as soon as Dad’s nose is pointed in the direction of Wales, he cannot get there fast enough and forgets about eating and sleeping. And even changing the poor horses half the time.”
“It is a sad day,” Sir Ifor said, “when one has to be told how to live one’s life by one’s own son. But never mind that. Clarissa, did I see you up on the crest of the hills on…Saturday, was it? I made a spectacle of myself by cutting a caper and waving my hat at you, but neither you nor your companion saw me. I did not see any carriage or even a horse. Never tell me you went there on foot.”
“Well, I did,” Clarissa said as everyone looked at her with interest. “We walked all the way from the house and all the way back. I was very proud of myself. And if any of my sons had been at Ravenswood, I would have defied them to imply that I am in my dotage.”
She smiled at Idris to show she was not being serious.
She wondered if Sir Ifor had seen whom she was with, since it certainly was not one of her sons. Sometimes it was easier simply to provide information than let people speculate.
“Matthew Taylor is going to make a crib for me to give Jennifer and Ben for the baby they are expecting,” she said. “He has already shown me sketches. It is going to be quite gorgeous—all covered with carvings of animals and plants and birds and butterflies. He accompanied me on that long walk on Saturday. We go back a long way, Matthew and I. We were close friends when we were growing up. His father’s land adjoined my father’s.”
“And a very gentlemanly man he is too,” Lady Rhys said. “Are you quite, quite sure you will not come with us, Clarissa? You know Devlin and Gwyneth would be more than happy, and the relatives would roll out the red carpet for you. I hate to think of you all aloneat Ravenswood for what may be more than a month while we are enjoying ourselves.”
“Sometimes it is good to be alone for a while,” Clarissa said, not wanting to dwell on the relief she felt in her friends’ apparent disinterest in Matthew and the crib. “I am enjoying my quiet time here, though I am quite sure I will be more than eager to welcome my family home when they come. I will feel a renewed appreciation for their company.”
“Well, that is one way of looking at it,” Lady Rhys said. “Though being alone is not something I would choose for myself, especially when Wales beckons.”
As she spoke they had all been making their way out to the traveling carriage that was awaiting her and Sir Ifor. Clarissa stood back now to give the Rhyses a chance to hug and take a fond leave of one another. Idris handed his mother into the carriage, Sir Ifor climbed in after her, the coachman shut the door securely and climbed up to the box to gather the ribbons in his hands and give the four horses the signal to start, and they were on their way. Idris and Eluned waved until the white handkerchief fluttering from the carriage window was withdrawn and the vehicle disappeared from sight.
“Come and have some breakfast, Lady Stratton,” Eluned said. “You must have missed having it at Ravenswood. There is plenty of food left.”
“Thank you, but I must be getting home,” Clarissa said.
“To your nice quiet life,” Eluned said, smiling. “Enjoy it while you have the chance, Lady Stratton.”
Clarissa spent the rest of the morning partaking of a late and leisurely breakfast in her sitting room and gazing out through her open window, ignoring both books and embroidery. The letters she needed to write could wait too.
Had Sir Ifor known who was with her up on the hills three days ago before she told him? He very probably had. Neither he nor his wife had shown surprise when she told them. Lady Rhys—Bronwyn—had even been ready with her kind description of Matthew.
Were her friends really uninterested in her friendship with Matthew? Or had Sir Ifor raised the matter this morning as a sort of warning to her? That if he had seen them together, someone else might have too? And of course someone else had—two of the Ravenswood gardeners, in fact. They had seen the two of them walking hand in hand.
Did she care that word was probably spreading? Not really, she thought at first. Only the truly malicious gossips would try to make something of it. Many people would know Matthew was a gentleman. He spoke like one, after all. A few would even recall that his father and now his brother were close neighbors of the Greenfields, her parents.
However…
Well, perhaps she did care for Matthew’s sake. He was such a quiet and private man. He would hate to be the focus of any sort of gossip. It was no doubt pure selfishness on her part to like the idea of pursuing a friendship with him while she was alone here. She had enjoyed their two encounters, and she was looking forward to this afternoon’s drive to the lake and the picnic tea with an eagerness she had not felt at all in London, despite the glittering parties she had attended and the congenial company. The weather was perfect again, more like summer than spring.
Perhaps, after all, she needed to put an end to the friendship. This afternoon everyone in the house would know with whom she was going to share the picnic tea for two that was being prepared.But why end it now? People would grow accustomed to seeing them together from time to time. Or would they? Would they perhaps grow more scandalized the longer she and Matthew were seen pursuing a friendship that might be considered unbecoming for two people whose stations in life were so far apart?
How annoying to discover so early in this time alone she had snatched for herself that her freedom was not limitless after all. For it was not only her own reputation she was risking. She had no right to risk Matthew’s too. In many ways he had more to lose than she did.
