Lord Atherstone scowled but sent it solely in Lord Tyrone's direction. "I am surprised at you, Tyrone. The way you spoke made it sound as though the matter was already settled!"
"That is because it is." Lord Tyrone drew himself up, a commanding presence now. "Clara, I have determined that he is the gentleman you shall marry. Lord Atherstone is willing to have you and since he has both an excellent situation and suitable fortune, I have decided that the match will be made."
Despite the gasp from her mother, Clara was not in the least bit moved. She looked back at her brother, taking him in and wondering at the firm way he spoke. Did he truly believe that she would simply comply? That she would do as he stated without question? Her brow furrowed, realizing that, whilst she held Lord Thomas responsible for what he had done as regarded Miss Jennings, Tyrone was not behaving well towards her either. There was no need for this! There was no explanation for it either, she realized, wondering why he seemed so heavy handed.
"Well, that is a little better," Lord Atherstone said, his lip curling slightly as he looked back at Clara. "I do not know why you would think me unsuitable, Lady Clara, but I can assure you ---"
"Alas, I am afraid I must decline." Clara, seeing Lord Rutland moving towards them, seeing the steel glint in his eye and feeling her own upset at her brother propelling her to act, lifted her chin and looked directly at Lord Tyrone. "Brother, you may have decided for me but I refuse to accept that. There is no reason for your heavy handedness, especially when you told me that I could make my own choice."
Lord Tyrone's jaw jutted forward, his eyes narrowing. "That was before I realized that you were going against what I hadmade clear, Clara," he responded, his voice low and dark. "I told you to stay away from Lord Rutland ---"
"And I ignored you," Clara interrupted, seeing Lord Rutland come to a stop just behind her brother. "You gave me no explanation, no reason as to why I should end my connection with him. You did not care for my broken heart but instead, forced me to act in a way that went against all that I felt."
"As is my right as your brother and as head of this family."
Clara shook her head. "No, Tyrone. You have no right to trample over my heart and my future simply because you have determined it best for me. I refuse to marry Lord Atherstone. I will not give him my promise, I will not make my vows to him. I refuse."
Lord Tyrone took a step forward as Lord Atherstone let out such an exclamation that more than one head turned in their direction. Clara's heart was beating steadily, her calmness surprising her in the face of such turmoil. Mayhap it came from her determination to finally take a hold of what she had wanted for so long --- and to reject the future her brother had laid out for her.
"Clara, let me make myself quite clear."
"No." Holding up one hand, palm out towards her brother, Clara ignored the shocked gasp that came from her mother and, no doubt, from one or two others who were now listening in. "I will not listen to any more threats from you. I will not be bound by them." Turning her head, she looked straight into Lord Atherstone's eyes. "I am afraid, Lord Atherstone, that my brother cannot speak for me for he does not know that I am already engaged."
Another gasp came from Lady Tyrone but Clara did not falter, sensing rather than seeing a new presence beside her.
"I --- I..." Lord Atherstone's mouth fell open as Lord Tyrone let out a dark exclamation and moved to stand between Claraand Lord Rutland --- but Clara acted quickly and slipped her arm through that of her beloved.
"I am engaged to Lord Rutland," she said, loudly enough for half the room to hear her. "And we shall be wed by the Season's end."
The shock that came from her statement practically reverberated around the room. Lord Atherstone threw up his hands and began berating Lord Tyrone in a furious manner, preventing him from coming any closer to Clara and Lord Rutland. Clara's mother burst into tears but, smiling through them, embraced Clara as best as she could, given that Clara was making sure to hold onto Lord Rutland's arm so he could not be pulled from her by her brother. Within a few seconds, the room erupted into exclamations and murmurs, with ladies streaming from all directions, coming towards Clara and Lord Rutland to congratulate them both.
Breathless, Clara looked up into Lord Rutland's face. His eyes were bright, his smile so wide it transformed him entirely, and when he looked down at her, he let out a laugh --- a sound so open and unguarded that Clara felt her own chest crack wide with happiness.
One look over her shoulder told her that her brother was quite the opposite. His face was dark, his eyes narrowed and his jaw tight with anger as Lord Atherstone railed at him.
Clara did not care. She only smiled at her brother, tilting her head as she leaned into Lord Rutland's arm. Whatever his reasons were, they would come to light soon enough.
20
Edward, the Marquess of Worthington, stood by the window of his rented townhouse and watched the rain streak down the glass in rivulets that caught the grey afternoon light. The fire crackled behind him in the grate, its warmth barely reaching his back, but his thoughts were not on the weather nor the chill in the air. They were on last evening's soiree, which had been, by any reasonable measure, the most astonishing event of the Season thus far.
Lady Clara, standing in the middle of a crowded room with Lord Atherstone gaping at her and Lord Tyrone practically vibrating with fury, had announced her engagement to Josiah as calmly as if she were commenting on the weather. Edward had watched from across the room, half hidden behind a pillar and a glass of tepid champagne, and he had thought to himself that he had never in his life seen anything so magnificently brave.
And then he had looked at Lady Alice, who had been standing near her aunt with her hands clasped together and her eyes shining with something that was not quite tears but very close to it, and his heart had done that thing it kept doing in her presence --- that undignified, ungentlemanly, entirely wonderfullurch that left him breathless and foolish and not caring one whit about either.
Moving away from the window, Edward sank into the worn leather of the armchair and rubbed one hand over his face, the familiar scent of tobacco and wood polish filling his nostrils. He had never intended to become so thoroughly captivated. When he had first accompanied Josiah to London, his only goal had been to help his friend recover from his broken heart --- a noble pursuit, one that had nothing to do with romance. At least, not his own. He had imagined a calm, practical courtship for himself. Someone steady. Someone sensible. Someone who would run his household efficiently and provide him with heirs without causing any great disruption to his comfortable existence.
Lady Alice was none of those things. She was sharp-tongued and quick-witted, unafraid to challenge him when she thought he was wrong --- which, he had discovered, was rather often. The first time she had corrected him on a point of historical fact, quite publicly and with a smile that told him she was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort, he had been both irritated and impressed in equal measure. By the third such occasion, he had been utterly besotted. And the soft brush of her fingers against his when they had accidentally reached for the same book at Lady Hartfield's musicale --- a touch that had sent heat racing up his arm and left him stammering like a schoolboy --- had confirmed what he had already suspected, which was that he was entirely, hopelessly, irretrievably lost.
A knock at the door pulled him from his reverie. He called for entry, his voice rough, and his butler appeared, bearing a letter on a silver tray.
"From Lord Rutland, my lord."
Edward took the letter and broke the seal, scanning the contents quickly. Josiah was requesting his presence at theTyrone residence tomorrow. Lord Thomas was arriving in London and the confrontation they had been building towards was finally at hand. Josiah's words were brief and direct, but Edward could read the tension beneath them --- and the trust. He was being asked to stand as witness and as friend, and he would not fail in either capacity.
Setting the letter aside, Edward leaned back in his chair and considered, the leather creaking beneath him. Tomorrow, everything would change. Whatever truth lay behind Lord Tyrone's machinations would be revealed, and Josiah and Lady Clara would finally be free to begin their life together without a shadow hanging over them.
But his mind kept returning to something else entirely --- to Lord Tyrone's behaviour at the soiree. The way he had spoken of his sister as if she were a parcel to be delivered to Lord Atherstone's door. The cold authority in his voice when he had said, "I have determined that he is the gentleman you shall marry," as though Clara's wishes were of no more consequence than the arrangement of furniture in a drawing room.
