Clara didn’t know the first thing about Mrs. Gilbert or Mrs. Young, but she figured two women would know more about what a lady might like in a husband than a man. The part about “men of quality” was also quite reassuring. She handed the paper to Violet and pointed to that line.
“But what if your standard of a marriageable man is different from theirs?” Violet asked.
“It may be,” Clara replied. “But I don’thaveto marry him if I arrive and find I don’t care for him.”
“Hmm.” Violet was studying the advertisement that had finally persuaded Clara that this was what she wanted. After a moment, she raised her eyes. “I suppose he doesn’t sound too terrible.”
Clara’s heart lifted. Was it possible Violet saw the possibility Clara did? She sat beside her friend and gazed at the advertisement.
“I like that he owns a livery,” Clara said. “A man who cares for horses must surely also care for people. And look, he speaks of his family. He must have a good background. He sounds hardworking and smart and—”
“Handsome,” Violet supplied with a slight smile.
Clara’s cheeks warmed. “Well, yes. That too.” The man had described himself as dark-haired with brown eyes, tall, and aged twenty-seven years old. Entirely the opposite of Gideon Maxwell, the man that until a few months ago, she’d thought she’d marry.
Violet set the paper aside and took Clara’s hands in her own. “You’re my oldest and dearest friend. Selfishly, I can’t imagine you not being here. Who will I tell first when I finally decide which beau I like best?”
Clara laughed. Violet had so many more prospects with her standing in Richmond society. Clara might have options too, if she’d let herself look. The men who worked with her father had sons. But it was hard to consider that when it seemed everywhere she went, Gideon was there with his new bride.
Sometimes she felt as if she couldn’t breathe in Richmond. As if everyone was watching her and pitying her. Starting anew somewhere far from here was best. And the more she’d pondered it, the more she yearned for it—a new beginning, an adventure, and all of the possibilities a place like the Colorado Territory might hold for her.
Violet sighed. “If you feel so deeply that you ought to write to this man and see what he has to offer, I believe you should. Who knows? He may make you unbelievably happy! Or as happy as you can be without me.”
Emotions pulled at every corner of Clara’s heart. She threw her arms around Violet. “You don’t know how much your approval means to me. I’ll write him. But please promise me one thing.”
“What is that?” Violet asked.
“Will you assist me in telling my parents?”
Violet’s eyes widened. “All right. But only because I know you’d do the same for me. Come, I’ll help you write the letter to your future husband. What should we tell him about first? Your great beauty? Your incomparable talent at everything you attempt? Or maybe your insurmountable charm?”
Clara laughed as Violet led the way to the door. But as she followed her friend to the drawing room, she wondered what might make Mr. Roman Carlisle choose her, of all the women who might write to him?
Chapter Three
ROMAN WINCED AS HEpatted the handkerchief over the cut on his chin. It was a fool thing, deciding to shave at the very last minute. But he’d caught a glimpse of himself in one of the livery windows, and that had made up his mind. Truth be told, he didn’t know if Miss Brown had a preference for or against whiskers, but she came from a city and he worried that the beard made him look too rough.
