"And he cannot refuse so simple a question," Alice agreed. "There can be nothing in that, surely."
"No, there cannot." Clara took a breath, feeling the pieces of something larger beginning to form at the edges of her understanding --- still too scattered to make a picture, but no longer invisible. "You are right, Alice. The truth will be mine. I am determined."
10
Lord Worthington's eyes widened. "You refused her?"
Josiah turned from the window of his sitting room, his reflection disappearing from the darkening glass. Worthington had arrived an hour ago to dress for the evening's soiree, only to find Josiah still in his shirtsleeves with no apparent intention of going anywhere. It had taken very little prompting for the whole of it to come spilling out --- the bookshop, Clara's explanation, her plea for them to investigate together, and his own wretched, cowardly response.
"No, I did not refuse her." Josiah paced the length of the room, aware of the shame which bit at him. "I only stated the obvious: our search for the truth might not bring us any sort of genuine happiness."
"And you think that is a good enough reason to set aside all that you feel for her and all that you have shared?"
The question was one that Josiah could not answer. The moment he had seen Lady Clara walk out of the bookshop, he had been filled with so many doubts about his response and lost in utter confusion. He had come home and sat in this very roomfor hours, turning her words over and over in his mind, and had arrived at precisely nothing.
"You do not know what is best to do," his friend said, seeming to be able to read Josiah's thoughts. "You are afraid."
"Afraid?" Josiah stopped pacing and snapped back, his head lifting sharply. "There is no fear in me!"
"Yes, there is." Lord Worthington leaned back in the armchair, a glass of brandy resting on his knee, his tone calm but his words determined. "You are terribly afraid that, if you permit yourself to pursue an answer to this, you will end up with a heart broken twice over. To spare yourself the potential pain, you have decided to close yourself up to the idea she suggested. Is that not so?"
Josiah scowled.
"But there is another consideration, is there not?" Lord Worthington, ignoring Josiah's dark look, continued on. "There is the possibility that your heart may recover and that, in seeking answers, you find yourself free to take her into your arms again."
"That is only a faint possibility and not one that I am willing to open myself up to," Josiah responded, still scowling, his hands gripping the back of a chair. "There is so little hope that ---"
"Ah, but there is hope nonetheless." Lord Worthington tilted his head, his eyebrow lifting. "Or mayhap you did not ever love her as much as you believe. Mayhap there is no great strength of feeling in your heart --- mayhap there never truly was."
Anger balled in Josiah's stomach and he rounded on his friend, closing the distance between them in two strides, his eyes narrowing and his jaw tight. "I have never felt anything akin to what came upon me the moment I set eyes upon Lady Clara," he hissed as Lord Worthington held his gaze without flinching. "I have never lost it either. Instead, it has grown and grown and grown until it fills every part of me. I cannot sleep without herin my dreams. I cannot think without her being present in my mind. I have tried everything to remove her from my heart and mind but still, she lingers. Do not think to suggest that I did not ever love her, Worthington. I love her still and I love her with such a fierceness, I fear it will never leave me. Not until the day I die."
The words rang in the quiet of the room. No crowd to swallow them, no laughter or conversation to soften their edges. Just the crackle of the fire and the truth, laid bare between two friends.
"It seems to me that this lady and the love you have for her would be worth the risk." When he finally spoke, Lord Worthington's voice was low and quiet but a tiny smile touched the edges of his mouth. "You have spoken of a love that has settled into your very bones, my friend. I do not doubt your love for her. I am only surprised that you do not think it worth the fight."
"I do think it worth the fight," Josiah responded, his anger still burning in him. "There should be no question there! Why do you ---" He stopped dead, realizing not only what his friend had been doing by speaking to him so but also the responses that had come from his lips with such fierceness.
"You see?" Lord Worthington's lips tipped upwards. "You have spoken of what is in your heart. That is your decision, already made for you."
Josiah swallowed tightly, the knot in his throat growing steadily as he looked into his friend's face and saw nothing but understanding there. The anger that had exploded through him only a few moments ago was quickly gone, replaced with embarrassment and shame. He ducked his head, rubbing one hand over the back of his neck, trying to find the words to apologise. "I --- I did not mean to ---"
"Please." Lord Worthington shook his head. "There is no need. I want to help you, my friend, truly. You have a chancefor happiness! Yes, there may be further pain but would you not regret it forever if you set yourself against this?"
"Yes," Josiah admitted, bluntly. "I would."
"Then go to her. Tell her that you want to search for answers, no matter the risk."
Josiah took in a breath and steadied himself. "I am unable to speak with her alone. I cannot even go near to her in a group for fear that her brother will see and pull us back from each other. He has made it quite clear that she will face severe consequences if she is seen in my company."
"Then I will go."
Josiah shook his head. "No. If Tyrone sees you approach her on my behalf, he may well suspect what is happening. Clara has told me he is watchful --- suspicious of everything."
Lord Worthington considered this, swirling the brandy in his glass. "Then we must hope the evening provides an opportunity. We are to attend Lady Thornton's soiree tonight, are we not? Gardens, moonlight, a crush of people --- it is far easier to slip away at such events than at a ball."
Josiah looked down at his shirtsleeves, then at his friend's already immaculate evening dress. "I had not intended to go."
"Of course you hadn't." Worthington rose and set down his glass with a decisive click. "But you are going. Get dressed, Rutland. Your lady is waiting for an answer and you are not going to give it to her from your armchair."
