"He is come."
The whispered words made Clara start violently, the book falling from her hands and clattering to the floor. Her face burned with embarrassment as every eye turned to her, with Alice hastily picking up the book and then smiling an apology at the others present, as if to say that she had been the one responsible.
"I just saw him come in," she murmured, as Clara blinked back her tears. "Go now, to the second floor. I will tell him where you are gone and thereafter, will keep your mother distracted by a hearty conversation on whether or not young ladies ought to read novels." She smiled encouragingly as Clara put one hand to her stomach, her nervousness growing like a fire. "Hurry now."
There was no time for Clara to argue. With legs that wobbled under her, she made her way to the staircase and, with only a brief pause, climbed the stairs until she was on the second floor of the bookshop. One side was open so that she might see all the other patrons present in the shop itself, whilst the other was filled with books of all kinds. Heedless to them all, she waited for Lord Rutland to appear at the top of the stairs, her heart in her throat, fearful of what sort of reception she might receive from him. Could it be that there was still love in his heart for her, as Alice had suggested? And if there was, might he have even the smallest willingness to pursue this mystery to the end? She could not say, could not imagine what his response might be and yet her heart flooded with hope all the same.
His footsteps on the stairs made her whole body tingle with nervousness, her fingers clasping together in front of her, her lips pressed flat. When he finally appeared, his eyes were sharp, his jaw clenched tightly and not even the smallest hint of happiness in his expression.
Her heart sank.
"Clara." Lord Rutland lifted his chin and folded his arms over his chest. "I believe you owe me an explanation."
8
Josiah held Lady Clara's gaze steadily, ignoring the way his heart yearned for him to draw close to her. She was finally standing so near to him, only a few steps away but she was still so very distant.
Worthington's words echoed in his mind from the night before ---listen to what she has to say. You owe her that much.He had come here sober, clear-headed, and determined to do exactly that, even if every instinct told him to guard what remained of his battered heart.
"Clara," he said, making sure to keep his tone detached. "I believe you owe me an explanation."
He watched as she swallowed hard, her gaze pulling away from him. "Yes, I do," she admitted, her voice soft. "First of all, Rutland, let me sincerely apologise for all the pain, sorrow and confusion that you have endured. It was never my intention for these things to come upon you."
Josiah said nothing, watching her closely. Dare he believe what she was saying? His only other choice was to think that she had written that letter because she had never truly cared for him as he had believed.
"As I have told you, I did not ever want to write that letter," she continued, her voice breaking, her eyes downcast. "I had no other choice."
"So you said," Josiah replied, with a sniff. "I am not sure that I believe you."
Lady Clara closed her eyes tightly. "I can understand why you would not. To receive that letter from me after all that we had shared must have broken your heart."
And yet, I cannot rid you from my heart.
"I will tell you the truth and you can choose whether to believe me or not," she continued, the quietness of her voice forcing him a little closer to her. "I want to begin by telling you that all that I said to you the night of the Christmas ball was from my heart." Slowly, her eyes pulled to his and Josiah's heart lurched at the pain he saw there. "I meant every word, Rutland. I truly did."
What could he say to that? Did he believe her? Trust her? His heart certainly wanted to.
"The following day, I was writing a letter to Lady Alice when my mother came into the room and informed me that I would have to write to you also. I was a little embarrassed to realize that she knew of our connection when we had not yet made it known to any of them but it was what she said next that tore me apart." Tears glistened in her eyes as she held his gaze steadily. "She insisted that I write to you and end any hope of moving towards courtship. I was to be clear and blunt, telling you that there could be nothing more between us but without giving any explanation as to why."
Josiah blinked, hearing truth in her voice and seeing it in her eyes. "But what was the reason?" he asked, a little hoarsely. "Why did you end our connection?"
She spread out her hands. "I do not know."
A frown pulled hard at his forehead. "I do not understand."
"I do not know, even to this day, why I had to write that letter."
"Your mother did not give you any explanation?"
Shutting her eyes, Lady Clara let out a ragged breath. "It was not my mother who insisted upon it. She was the one who informed me of what I had to do, yes, but it was my brother's insistence that forced my hand." Opening her eyes, she took a step closer to him, her hand reaching out as if she wanted to grasp his hand, only to let it drop back to her side again. "Believe me, I pleaded with him to explain. I tried to demand answers only to be met with threats --- threats that would have forced me into a future with a gentleman I did not want to marry or a future of solitude and loneliness." A single tear dropped to her cheek and Josiah's heart exploded in agony. "He sent my mother to make the demands because he thought I would listen to her more than I would listen to him. My mother did not understand either, she still has no explanation for why our families must stay apart." Her shoulders lifted and then dropped. "I was not even allowed to read any letter you wrote to me in response. My brother intercepted all and any letters."
Josiah searched his heart to see if there was any part of him that did not believe that she was telling the truth. When her eyes met his, tears shimmering like diamonds, any remaining barriers he had placed around his heart fell in an instant.
I cannot help but believe her.
And yet, even as his heart yielded, his mind turned the facts over with a cooler logic. Her brother was the Marquess of Tyrone --- the head of her family, with full authority over her prospects and her future. It was not unheard of for a brother in such a position to intervene in a sister's attachments. Josiah himself could think of half a dozen families where the eldest son had vetoed a match for reasons of politics, or finance, or alliance. It was the way of things. He did not like it --- not when it washismatch that had been vetoed --- but he could not pretend it was extraordinary.
What was extraordinary was the silence. The refusal to explain. That was what troubled him.
