No. He could not. He was not brave enough for that.
Rising from his chair, David moved back to the window. His reflection stared back at him from the darkening glass, the face of a man he no longer recognized. When had he become this? When had he allowed fear to transform him into someone who would sacrifice his own siblings' happiness to protect a secret that should never have existed in the first place?
He thought of going to Clara. Of sitting beside her and simply being her brother for a few minutes --- not the Marquess, not the head of the family with his demands and his commands, but David. The brother who had taught her to ride, who had read to her when she was small, who had once carried her on his shoulders through the apple orchard while she shrieked with delight. He missed that version of himself with a fierceness that surprised him. He missed being someone his sister could trust.
But he could not go to her. Not tonight. If he sat beside her, if he saw the evidence of tears on her face, the careful mask she wore to hide her suffering --- suffering he had caused --- he did not trust himself. The confession might come spilling out, and then everything would be lost.
With a final, steadying breath, David set his expression into the mask he wore so well --- the concerned elder brother, the protective head of the family. He would speak with Clara tomorrow. Remind her of her duty. Encourage the Atherstone connection. And if necessary, he would remind her of the consequences of defiance.
Whatever it took to keep the truth buried.
Even if it buried him along with it.
6
Whatever did she mean?
"You are so very kind, Lord Rutland."
Josiah glanced at the lady on his arm. "I thank you, Miss Shrewsbury." He was not quite certain what he had done to make the lady think so favorably of him but he would not say such a thing to her.
"I did not think that you would show me such favoritism," she continued, with a delighted sigh. "To know that you think so well of me so as to dance with me again after having only stepped out with me yesterday evening... well, I am truly touched by your notice!"
This gave Josiah pause though he said nothing to the lady herself. Stepping back, he waited for the music to begin and then, bowing low, came close to her again, catching her hand in his. Had he danced with Miss Shrewsbury last evening? He could not recall --- which now meant that his notice of her here in the ballroom had been a misstep on his part. He did not want the lady to think that he was paying her particular attention.
The dance continued on and Miss Shrewsbury, much to Josiah's relief, spoke for the both of them. It meant that hehad to make very little conversation, aside from the briefest remarks and could concentrate solely on the dance itself. Miss Shrewsbury was a very beautiful young lady and certainly, most genteel and considerate but that did not mean that he thought warmly of her! No, at present, his mind was filled with all that Lady Clara had said to him the previous afternoon.
The letter was not my doing. I had no choice but to write it.
That had astonished him. To hear her say such things had not only catapulted surprise against his heart, it had stolen away his breath and left him in such a state of shock, he had been unable to speak a single word to her.
"Thank you very much again for that dance." Miss Shrewsbury dropped into a curtsy and it took Josiah a moment to realize that the dance had come to an end. "You cannot know of my delight this evening, Lord Rutland."
Josiah managed to smile as he bowed. "But of course, Miss Shrewsbury." The urge to step away grew --- his unintended attentions would only encourage her to think well of him. "Let me take you back to your mother."
"We could take a turn about the room," Miss Shrewsbury suggested, in a very forward manner which took Josiah by surprise. "I am sure that ---"
"Alas, I am to go in search of Lady Honoura," Josiah answered, relieved that he had an excuse. "I am to dance with her next."
This made Miss Shrewsbury pout but Josiah ignored it. Returning the young lady to her mother, he bowed and smiled and then stepped away, relieved to be away from her. How foolish he had been to dance with the young lady having only danced with her the previous evening! It was a clear indication to him that his thoughts were in complete disarray... and all because of Clara.
I think I must speak with her.
Going to the side of the ballroom, Josiah plucked a glass of brandy from a silver tray and threw it back in a way that would, no doubt, have many eyebrows lifting should they be watching him. A gentleman ought to savor his brandy but now, at this present moment, Josiah felt the need for a little more courage.
As he set down the glass, a burst of laughter drew his attention to the far side of the ballroom. A gentleman he did not know was holding court amongst a small circle, his voice carrying above the general hum of conversation with the easy confidence of a man who believed himself the most entertaining person in any room. What caught Josiah's eye, however, was not the gentleman himself but who stood beside him --- Lord Tyrone, laughing along with every appearance of genuine enjoyment, his hand clapping the man's shoulder with a familiarity that spoke of long acquaintance.
Josiah watched them for a moment, something uneasy stirring in his chest. He had seen Lord Tyrone at several events now and his manner was always controlled, always watchful --- but with this gentleman, he seemed almost relaxed. It was, Josiah thought, the look of a man standing beside someone he considered useful.
"Are you quite all right, my friend?"
Turning, Josiah smiled tightly. "I am well enough." He glanced at Lord Worthington, then looked out across the ballroom. "I am decided that I should speak to Lady Clara."
Lord Worthington's expression shifted --- not with surprise, for he already knew the whole of it, but with a kind of cautious concern. "You are certain?"
"I think I must." Josiah rubbed one hand over his eyes. "When she spoke to me yesterday in the park, she told me that she had not wanted to write the letter, that she had been given no choice but to do so."
"Which is precisely what I suggested might be the case, if you recall," Lord Worthington said, quietly. "I told you in the carriage that her actions did not make sense --- that a lady of quality would not risk her reputation on a false attachment. And now she has confirmed it herself."
