They did, Claudia agreed. Oh, goodness, indeed they did. She felt somehow foolish as if everyone within sight of her would realize what silly daydreams she had indulged in while out on the river. Miss Claudia Martin was not usually given to daydreams, especially silly ones—and more especiallyromanticones.
“But Claudia,” Susanna continued, smiling warmly as the rest of her group came up to them, “we have been having a long talk with the Duke of McLeith, and he has been telling us that you grew up together almost like brother and sister.”
They were all smiling, obviously happy for her. Charlie was beaming.
“Claudia,” he said, “we meet again.”
“Good afternoon, Charlie,” she said.Brother and sister,indeed!
“How wonderful that you should meet again now,” Lady Ravensberg said, “when you have not been in England for years, your grace, and Miss Martin has come to town for just a week or two.”
“I can scarcely believe my good fortune,” Charlie said.
“Kit and I are organizing a party to Vauxhall Gardens the evening after tomorrow,” the viscountess continued. “We would be delighted if the two of you could join us. Susanna and Peter have already said yes. Will you come too, Miss Martin?”
Vauxhall Gardens!It was one place Claudia had always wanted to see. It was famous for its outdoor evening entertainments, with concerts and dancing and fireworks and fine food and lantern-lit pathways and alleys to stroll along. It was said to be a magical and unforgettable experience.
“I would love to,” she said. “Thank you.”
“And your grace?”
“You are most kind,” he said. “I shall be delighted.”
Claudia felt less shock at seeing him today. It was almost inevitable that they meet again, she had realized this morning when she woke up. And perhaps it was just as well it had happened. The long-ago past had never been quite exorcised. Perhaps now it would be and she could let go of the memories at last.
“Oh, lovely!” Lady Ravensberg said. “Our party is complete, then, Kit. Elizabeth and Lyndon will be coming and Joseph and Miss Hunt and Lily and Neville. Oh, and Wilma and George too.”
Lovely indeed, Claudia thought with heavy irony. And so she would see him again after all—himbeing the Marquess of Attingsborough. Well, she would just have to frown and look stern and make him believe that he must have been mistaken out there on the river. And those last two people the viscountess had named must be the Earl and Countess of Sutton. She really had walked into the fire with her enthusiastic acceptance of her invitation, but it was too late now to withdraw it.
Besides, she wanted very much to see Vauxhall Gardens, and why should shenotgo? She would have friends there.
“Claudia,” Charlie said, “would you care to take a stroll with me?”
Everyone else beamed happily at them as they moved away from the group, weaved their way among other guests, a few of whom greeted him as they passed, and headed in the general direction of the river.
“You live in Bath, Claudia?” he asked, offering his arm, though she did not take it.
He knew nothing about her, then? But she knew nothing about him either, did she? Not anything that had happened to him since her father’s death, anyway.
“Yes,” she said. “I own and run a girls’ school there. It is quite successful. All my dreams have come true, in fact. I am very happy.”
And how wasthatfor a defensive answer to his question?
“A school!” he said. “Well done, Claudia. I thought you were a governess.”
“I was for a short while,” she said. “But then I took a chance on opening my own establishment so that I could enjoy more independence.”
“I was surprised when I heard that you had taken employment at all,” he said. “I thought you would marry. You had any number of admirers and would-be suitors, as I remember.”
She felt a flash of anger as they started down the long slope. But there was some truth in his words. Even apart from her modest dowry, she had been a pretty enough girl, and there had been something in her nature that had attracted attention from the young men of the neighborhood. But she had had eyes for none of them, and after Charlie left—or at least after the last letter he wrote her less than a year later—she had renounced the very thought of marrying. Her decision had caused her father some pain—she knew that. He would have liked grandchildren.
“Did you know that Mona had died?” Charlie asked.
“Mona?” she said a fraction of a second before she realized that he was speaking of his wife.
“The duchess,” he said. “She died more than two years ago.”
“I am sorry,” she said. At one time that name had been written on her heart as if with a sharp instrument—Lady Mona Chesterton. He had married her just before Claudia’s father died.
