"Not at all, Lady Deborah. I am delighted to see you again." Clara gestured for her to join them. "You recall my brother, Lord Tyrone?"
"Of course I do." Lady Deborah curtsied and then smiled as she settled onto the bench beside Clara. "We had the most wonderful Christmas time last year. The Christmas balls were a delight."
"Yes, they were."
As Clara looked at her brother, she sensed a change in his demeanor. Only moments ago he had been at ease, seemingly content with the evening's entertainment and --- having not missed her during her escape along the walks --- appearing quite settled. Now, however, he was sitting rather stiffly and, glancing at his hands where they rested on the table, Clara noticed how his fingers curled into his palm.
Something about Lady Deborah was concerning him, that much was clear.
"I would bring Prentis to join our conversation but he has gone to fetch more punch," Lady Deborah explained. "Our supper box is just there --- I saw you as I came past and could not resist stopping. I do hope you do not mind."
"Of course, I ---"
"Alas, we are about to take our leave."
Clara looked up at her brother in surprise. "Our leave?"
"Yes, I ---"
"But we have not yet had our supper," Clara protested, confused as to why her brother was making such a strange demand. "And Mama was looking forward to the fireworks. We are not leaving as yet, surely?"
Lord Tyrone's jaw tightened. "I have every intention of departing. I am somewhat weary."
"But I am not," Clara responded, dropping her voice low so that Lady Deborah could not hear her. "I will stay with Mama, then, if you wish to depart. I am quite sure that Lord Prentis would see us home, or we might share Alice's carriage." Holding her brother's gaze, she saw the way his jaw tightened further. Itwas plain to see that he thought her response less than pleasing but Clara did not care. She was not about to be pulled away from Vauxhall just to satisfy his sudden unease.
I am not certain it is truly about his tiredness, however, she thought to herself, watching him still. What if it is more than that?
She turned her attention back to Lady Deborah with a warm smile. "Is your sister present with you this evening?"
"Oh, no, she is to be married soon!" Lady Deborah smiled back but not before she glanced sharply at Lord Tyrone who was now sitting, sullenly, beside Clara. "My mother has remained at home also, to assist with all the preparations. My brother and I will return home for the wedding, of course. I hope to make my way back to London with my mother shortly thereafter, however."
A quick thought came to Clara and she offered what she hoped was a warm smile, nervousness beginning to pluck at her heart. "And Miss Jennings, your mother's companion. Will she be at the wedding also?"
A sorrowful look came over Lady Deborah's face and she shook her head, just as Clara heard her brother snatch in a breath. She did not dare turn towards him for fear that he would see her curiosity but inwardly, her heart spun around in her chest. Surely his response was proof that this shame Thomas had spoken of --- either Thomas's shame or Tyrone's shame --- was related to Miss Jennings!
"She is no longer my mother's companion," Lady Deborah said, with a heaviness in her voice that spoke of sorrow and regret. "I do so very much wish that she would come to the wedding but she will not be present, alas."
"I am sorry to hear that," Clara answered, daring a glance at her brother but he had turned his face away, looking out into thelamplit darkness of the walks as though he wished to disappear into them. "She did seem very dear to you all."
"Oh, she was." Lady Deborah spread out her hands. "I cannot say as to why she is no longer my mother's companion but the way our connection ended was swift and without explanation." She shrugged. "I know that she is in London at present, however, for I have written to her on occasion. It may be that I might find a few minutes to call upon her, although my brother would not be particularly pleased should I do so. I do not think he even knows that I am aware of her presence here!"
"No?" Clara knew she was prying, heard her brother mutter something beside her but kept her gaze fixed to Lady Deborah.
"No, he has determined that since she is no longer our mother's companion, there is no need for any further connection with her," Lady Deborah explained, sharing far more than Clara considered wise. But, then again, she was grateful for it! "All the same, I might find a way."
Lord Tyrone cleared his throat gruffly. "It would be wrong of me not to speak up at this juncture and encourage you to do as your brother expects," he said, as color began to seep into Lady Deborah's cheeks. "It is clear to me that he has reasons for saying such a thing and ---"
"Although I shall say quite the opposite, however," Clara laughed, interjecting but wanting Lady Deborah's embarrassment to quickly fade. "I would do the very same as you, should I be in such a position."
The lady smiled in what Clara considered to be evident relief and whilst her brother scowled beside her, Clara only shrugged inwardly at her brother's displeasure. He had no authority over Lady Deborah and no reason to speak so sharply --- which told Clara everything she needed to know about how badly he wanted Miss Jennings left alone.
"Lady Deborah! I have the punch --- oh, and some of the ham, though I warn you it is sliced so thin one can very nearly read through it."
A warm, kind voice broke into their conversation as Lord Headley appeared beside the supper box, a glass in each hand, his attention fixed solely to Lady Deborah. He did not even seem to see Clara which, rather than take offence, made Clara smile. Within a few minutes, Lady Deborah was on Lord Headley's arm and they were making their way back towards their own box, his laughter floating back through the warm evening air.
"Clara." Lord Tyrone was frowning as she looked up at him. "Did you not receive a letter from Lord Headley asking you whether or not Lady Alice might be willing to accept him, should he ask her?"
Clara's smile fixed to her face as she nodded, trying to think of an explanation. "Yes, I did."
