“I burst in and did not allow anyone to stop me,” he said as he turned his gaze to her sister. “Pushing into the office there, demanding to see the owner and encountering a woman I assumed was a maidservant.”
“Oh, Clare!” Caro said. “Pray tell me you were not wearing that apron.”
“I’m afraid Lady Clare was indeed wearing an apron.”
The heat of a blush crept up her neck and filled her cheeks at his declaration. Clare grabbed her glass of wine and drank some, hoping to cool her embarrassment.
“And one of those frilly, white caps that most household servants wear.” Though he turned his dark gaze to her, she did not see any sign of mockery or derision in his eyes. Instead, humor shone there, sending a shiver down her spine.
“I was working, Sir Iain,” she said in her defense.
“Oh, Lady Clare, ’twas my mistake. I expected to find the one I wanted to speak to about my interest and found someone completely different. Then, compounding my error and being so single-minded on my own matters, I did not see the woman before me.” He lifted his glass in salute to her, shocking Clare into silence. “I hope you can forgive my rash actions?”
No one had ever taken her feelings into account and yet this enigmatic, attractive, somehow dangerous stranger did. And as brash and overbearing as he’d been in that first encounter, here he was admitting his fault before her sister and her brother-by-marriage with whom he was in some business endeavor.
Iain Buchanan wasnotthe man she expected him to be.
Clare smiled and nodded. “Apology accepted, Sir Iain.”
“To Lady Clare,” he said as he lifted his glass higher and nodded at her. The others repeated his words, leaving Clare unable to breathe.
Seeing Caro’s smile and meeting the marquess’s gaze warmed her heart. No matter that her father and mother had shunned her, Caro and Nairn had never joined in their cruelty. Her parents’ deletion of their eldest daughter from their lives and family had been complete and utterly clear to their extended relatives and acquaintances and friends in society. Early in her marriage Jonathan had been enough to see her through, but in the few years since losing him, they had been the one link to her past that had not been severed.
The kind act of this man had unnerved her. She could eat and drink only by rote after that. Her wits had fled at his words and his gesture, and it took some time to gather her thoughts. How she managed to say the correct words when needed to reply to a question or how she continued to function at all was a mystery to her. But she did.
Until Nairn’s butler entered the room as the table was being cleared.
His usually impeccable manners faltered when he allowed his gaze to meet hers for just a moment. Placing her cutlery on her plate, Clare waited as the footman removed it before studying the whispered exchange. The butler left and Clare held her breath, knowing somehow that she was directly involved.
“Lord Heath is joining us for our final course this evening,” Nairn announced.
A glance at Caro revealed she was surprised in this as well. The only one who did not tense at such a declaration, she noticed, was Sir Iain. But then why or how would he know the situation in her family?
’Twas not something openly, or even frequently, discussed. It was a matter of fact and even society did not question it. In her rare appearances at events at Caro’s behest or demand or for her charities, those who associated with or needed her father’s favor ignored her presence. Others simply accepted it. And, she never knowingly attended gatherings when she knew that her parents would attend. Simpler to avoid the ugliness than to walk into it.
But now? How did she handle this without alienating or insulting the two people dearest to her?
“Nairn?” she whispered, leaning closer to him. “I should leave.” She began to stand, pushing the chair back before a footman could reach her. The touch of her brother-by-marriage’s hand on hers stopped her.
“He knows you are here, Sister.” He patted her hand. “He is here to renew his acquaintance with you.”
Her body dropped without grace to the chair behind her. Nairn’s words stirred both shock and turmoil within her. Tears burned and no amount of blinking would keep them controlled. She clutched at the handkerchief placed in her hand and then dabbed, hopefully with some modicum of calm.
“Why?” She asked it of him only when she could speak.
“I want Caro to be happy. And the continued shunning by the earl and countess distressed her. I am only sorry I did not press the issue prior to this,” he explained.
“But how? He has always refused?” Clare asked. Nairn’s maneuver had not been the first attempt by her sister, and even other interested parties, to reconcile the earl’s eldest with her parents. But one thing or another, usually the earl’s outrageous and insulting demands regarding her behavior or decisions, stymied their attempts. The slightest tilt of Nairn’s head in the direction of his guest gave her the answer.
She should not have feared the end of the world was near, as her father had always sworn would be needed for him to approach her again. Instead, as always, his business interests had tamped down whatever scruples he held onto and allowed him to come here this night.
To meet... him. Not her.
Never her.
“My lord, the Earl of Heath,” the butler announced as he opened the door to allow her father entrance.
Did he never age? His countenance was that of a younger man and barely any gray touched his hair. His bearing spoke of his continued practice of walking and exercise. She stood as the others did but remained in her place as Nairn and Caro went to greet him. After a private word, they turned back to the table and her father’s gaze met hers for the first time in years. Then he looked away as Nairn escorted him towards his true target.
