Her father’s beloved face drew her attention from her husband’s abrupt departure. Lines of apprehension carved grooves in his forehead and bracketed his mouth. She wondered if he remained this grim as a result of her marriage.
He dispelled her curiosity by breaking his silence. “Clara, tell me the truth. Are you happy? Ravenscroft does not treat you with disrespect, does he?”
Once again the specter of Julian’s reputation had returned. She wanted to rail against the unfairness of it, that others’ judgments of him should always be colored by his past. Somehow, she’d acquired an inexplicable sense of defensiveness on her husband’s behalf. She longed to banish the sadness she sensed in him forever.
Clara met her father’s gaze now unflinchingly. “I’m happy, Father. Truly. Lord Ravenscroft has been a model husband.”
Well, perhaps not entirely a model, she inwardly amended. To be sure, they had much yet between them that would need ironing. Perhaps even mending. Her reaction to Julian confused her as much as the man himself did. She had never known a man as dangerous to her inner balance. He’d had her hopelessly off kilter from the moment she’d entered his study and he’d approached her, as cagey as any predator. She didn’t know where she stood. Didn’t know what the future held in store for them.
But despite all that, telling her father she was happy was not prevarication. For with Julian, she felt as happy and at home as she’d ever been in England. Being his wife would not always be easy, but it was the path she’d chosen. The path that was right for her. She didn’t regret her decision, and she knew that in time they could find happiness together.
Her father’s lips compressed into a tight line of disapproval, as though he weighed his next words. Perhaps he’d anticipated an outpouring from her of how miserable she was in her new role. His undisguised distaste for Julian had not gone unnoticed. She’d been hoping he may have softened. But he had not. He wasn’t brandishing a pistol on this occasion, but his mien was forbidding enough without it.
“Our doors are always open to you,” he said at last. “Should you desire to leave him, Clara, you have a home with myself and Lady Bella.”
His obvious displeasure and distrust of Julian nettled her on her husband’s behalf. “Thank you, Father, but why do you insist on believing that I made such a great error of judgment that I shall need to one day retreat back to you?”
Her father made a sound of exasperation deep in his throat. “Forgive me if I believe you acted impetuously in your decision to marry a known blackguard who compromised you so that he could eliminate his debts with your dowry. He knew I’d consent to nearly any of his terms to save you from ruin and see you settled, the blighter.”
Guilt settled over her, heavy as a boulder. How had it not occurred to her that part of her father’s poor opinion of Julian was due to her subterfuge? She had to tell him the truth, to unburden herself.
Clara placed a hand on her father’s coat sleeve in an imploring gesture. “Father, there’s something I must confess to you. Marrying Lord Ravenscroft was my idea.”
Her father’s brows snapped together. “The hell you say it was. Don’t try to protect him, darlin’.”
Ah, if only she were half the angel her father imagined her to be. But she was not. She was wicked and willful and rebellious. Impetuous too. Lord have mercy, it seemed she had not many virtues in her possession at all if she were to truly consider the matter.
“I’m not trying to protect him,” she told her father gently, almost in the tone she’d use to inform someone that a death had occurred. For she feared his reaction to her full revelation. He would be angry and hurt. Disappointed in her. But regardless, she must tell him everything. “Coming here to his home that night, attempting to be compromised, it was all my idea. I’d never met the earl before that day but I knew of his reputation, and I thought he’d make an excellent foil for my plan to return to Virginia. I offered to pay him to marry me and then annul our union and let me go home.”
Her father’s face went ashen. “Damn it, Clara, tell me you’re lying. Why the hell would you do something so foolish?”
Yes, she had to admit, her actions had been foolish indeed. How naïve of her to ever imagine she could’ve made a man like the Earl of Ravenscroft do her bidding. “You told me you wouldn’t allow me to return to Virginia, that even after I’d reached my majority you wouldn’t settle a penny on me. I didn’t want to remain here. It seemed the best means of circumventing you.”
“If all this is true, why not tell me? You could have spared yourself so much.” He waved his hand in a broad, encompassing gesture. “You could have spared yourselfthis. If I’d realized you wanted to go back to Virginia so much you’d shackle yourself to a devil like Ravenscroft, I’d have sent you there myself.”
His angry words gave her pause, but she didn’t believe for a moment that he would have mildly acquiesced to sending her to Virginia on her own. He was too protective of those he loved. “Julian is not the devil you think he is, Father.”
“Yes he damn well is.” His face contorted. “Did he or did he not compromise you that night? I saw the two of you with my own eyes, Clara. His conduct was not that of a gentleman.”
Perhaps not. She winced. “He didn’t…that is to say, I allowed you to believe he had lured me to his home and compromised me because it facilitated my objective. If I had told you the truth, you wouldn’t have allowed me to marry him.”
Her father shook his head, clearly trying to force his mind to accept everything she’d just told him. There it was, her secret laid bare. She was not a good daughter. She wasn’t sure she knew how to be. But she did love her father, and she did care for her husband, and she knew a rush of relief at confessing the truth.
“That lying whoreson.” His tone had grown positively murderous now. “He looked me in the eye and told me there was a possibility you carried his child. Fed me some tripe about you two falling in love and then demanded two hundred thousand pounds and a hundred thousand in North Atlantic Electric stocks. By God, don’t tell me you’re too blind to see that man for the fortune hunting vulture he is.”
Clara had no excuse to offer. It seemed that she and her husband were not so very different. When they wanted something, they were dogged in their perseverance. “He’s not a vulture.”
“I’m taking you home with me. This is insupportable. The blackguard dares to put you in danger, keeping you here while someone is out to kill him.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I’ll spare the villain the trouble and kill him first. I’m of half a mind to gut him like a hog for his manipulations.”
Lord. This was fast unraveling. “I don’t want to go home with you, Father.”
“I don’t give a goddamn. I’m your father and it’s my duty to protect you, especially if you refuse to protect yourself.” His blue gaze snapped with fury.
“I won’t go with you,” she denied again, for she was where she belonged. Nothing in her life had ever felt so simply, preciouslyright. Yes, there was no other word for it except one. One she’d refused to think up until this moment as she faced her father’s paternal wrath and protectiveness.
One simple and terrifying word. An emotion as powerful as it was bewildering.
“I’ve fallen in love with Lord Ravenscroft,” she blurted. “I won’t leave him.”
