Glancing behind her, she wondered if she might make her escape and go to stand with Alice's brother, since he was their chaperone. It would permit Alice to continue on with her conversation and enjoyment of their company whilst taking Clara away. She could pretend that she had been called over, could easily excuse herself and then step back. Lady Alice would be quite protected since she and Lord Hilton would be nearby.
"And you, Lady Clara?"
Clara started, looking back at Lord Worthington quickly. She did not know what to say, mortified to have been discovered paying very little attention to all that was being said.
"Oh, I am sure that Clara prefers a ball to a soiree," Alice said quickly, casting a warning glance in Clara's direction. "Is that not so?"
"Yes, that is quite so," Clara replied, relief sending sweat to break out across her forehead. "Balls are all the better since we are able to dance."
"Ah, but you can dance at some soirees and even at some dinners although I shall grant you that there is not always the same number of couples able to take to the floor." Lord Headley smiled as Clara returned it, grateful indeed that Alice had come to her rescue. "I think you shall have to stand up with me at the next ball we attend. In fact, I shall demand it from you both that you save me a dance each!" The smile touched the edges of his lips and Clara threw a glance towards her cousin who beamed at her, either delighted by the request to dance or relieved that Clara had not made a fool of herself.
"I am sure that we shall." Clara, sensing someone drawing near, turned her head to see.
Lord Rutland stood there, his arms folded over his chest and his stance strong and confident. Either he had been coming closer to her and had stopped upon realizing who she was, or he had intended to stand there until she had moved away. Clara swallowed the tightness that came into her throat in an instant, catching his brown eyes with her own.
But it was not anger she saw in him. Not truly.
She had expected fury, had braced herself for the cold, dismissive look he had given her at the ball. Instead, what she found in his expression was something far worse --- a kind of weariness, a heaviness that sat upon his features and aged him beyond his years. There were shadows beneath his eyes that shedid not remember from before Christmas, a set to his jaw that spoke not of strength but of a man holding himself together by force of will alone.
I did this to him.
The thought struck her with such force that her breath caught. She had known, in the abstract, that her letter had caused him pain --- he had told her as much in the letters her brother had refused to let her read, or so she imagined. But seeing the evidence of it written across his face, in the way he held his body as though braced against a blow that had already landed --- that was something else entirely. That was not knowledge but recognition, the same grief she saw in her own reflection each morning staring back at her from his eyes.
Another breath in and out as she held his gaze, no thought in her mind save for that single, devastating recognition. And with it came something she had not expected: not merely the desire to tell him the truth, which she had carried for months, but a fierce, sudden need to ease the suffering she had caused. The desires she had battled since first seeing him in London, the thoughts of speaking with him honestly, came back towards her with such strength she could not resist.
But her brother's voice echoed in her mind --- cold, absolute.If I see you doing such a thing, then I will take you from London and return you home with all swiftness.
Clara glanced about her quickly, her heart hammering. The park was crowded with the press of the fashionable hour, dozens of conversations filling the air. Lord Tyrone was nowhere in sight --- he had mentioned something about riding along Rotten Row this afternoon, which meant he would be at the far end of the park. She had perhaps a few minutes, no more. And if someone told him they had seen her speaking with Lord Rutland---
She looked back at Josiah's face. At the weariness. At the hurt.
It did not matter. Whatever her brother might do, whatever punishment might follow, she could not stand before this man and say nothing. Not when she was the cause of his suffering and had it in her power to offer him at least the truth, even if she could offer him nothing else.
Another deep breath filled her lungs as she took a hold of her courage. Turning towards the gentleman entirely, she took a step closer, her heart beginning to quicken but the determination to speak the truth finally taking a hold of her. It would cost her, no doubt, for even now, there were tears behind her eyes, but she had to speak.
"Lord Rutland." Dropping into a quick curtsy, she tried to look into his eyes again but found her gaze lingering around his shoulder. "Good afternoon."
There came a short silence. "Good afternoon."
"I --- I must tell you something." Her words began to tumble out of her mouth, afraid that he would move away from her at any given moment. "The letter, it was not my doing."
Lord Rutland's swift snatch of breath forced her head up, her eyes going to his. They were wide and staring, color fading from his cheeks as a single tear fell to her own.
"I had no choice but to write it," she said, hoarsely. "I am sorry, desperately sorry, for the pain that it caused you. It broke my own heart also."
There was no response from Lord Rutland, silence dragging out between them instead. Clara, sensing that tears might begin to fall in earnest should she continue, closed her eyes tightly and let out a ragged breath. "Forgive me," she whispered, before turning back around and stepping towards Alice again.
"I see that you are already acquainted with Lord Rutland." Lord Headley smiled as Clara, blinking furiously, tried to smile."And you, Lady Alice? Are you acquainted with him? I am sure I would be glad to make your introductions if --- oh! He has taken his leave." The gentleman chuckled, then offered Lady Alice a small smile. "Another time, mayhap."
Clara took her cousin's arm. "I think we must take our leave, Lord Headley, Lord Worthington," she said, her voice rasping as emotions still held her captive. "I can see that Lady Alice's brother has taken a few steps away from us and we do need to stay close to him."
"Of course we do." Alice was looking at her with concern shimmering in her eyes. "Thank you, Lord Headley, Lord Worthington."
"Do recall that you are to save me a dance!" Lord Headley exclaimed, as they stepped away. "I will be looking out for you both!"
Clara did not even glance over her shoulder as she walked with Lady Alice, her breathing coming quickly and her heart aching so dreadfully, it felt as if she were being pulled downwards by an invisible weight. Her shoulders rounded and she closed her eyes against the heat that lingered there, forced to come to a stop in the middle of Hyde Park.
"You are not yourself." Alice put an arm around Clara's shoulders but Clara said nothing, shaking her head silently. "Do you wish to go back to the carriage?"
