As Lyra penned off a quick note for John and laid it on the back coach seat, she grabbed her basket of food before transferring into the pleasantly sprung coach. “Thank you so much, Miss…”
A brief pause. “Please, just call me Clara.”
“Very well. I’m Lyra Ayles, the Duchess of Albright.”
“Are you, indeed?” Lyra could tell she’d surprised the other woman, for her change in tone indicated as much. Unfortunately, her face was still swathed in shadow across from her.
As they set off, the woman cocked her head to the side. “I haven’t been in London long, but I have heard that the duke is rather…” She hesitated. “Then again, I’ve found that much of what is spoken at ballrooms and salons is pure fabrication.”
“My husband has long indeed been the subject of ridicule, but he is absolutely nothing like he is portrayed, I can assure you.”
The woman chuckled. “Only love could make a woman brave a journey so daring in the midst of such a terrible storm. Personally, I’ve never met a man worth dying for.”
“It wasn’t this bad when I left London,” Lyra felt the need to explain. “I know that my actions seem rather foolish, but I just wanted to see him and tell him…I’m sorry.”
They said nothing for a moment, then Lyra lifted a curious brow. “So why is it that you’re braving the elements?”
“Unfortunately, love is not a woman’s only motivation for risking her life.”
The hard edge in her companion’s voice was unmistakable. “Is there some way I can help?”
The lady’s words were barely audible. “I’m afraid no one can help me on this particular matter.”
“Is it so dire then?” Lyra inquired gently.
“Blackmail usually is.”
“In that case, I implore you to let me assist in some manner. If it is a matter of legality, my husband is good friends with a very fine barrister, who I am sure would gladly—”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible.” Clara’s voice was firm when she added, “I fear English law cannot protect a daughter from her own father.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Lyra was speechless. Granted, she had never had a close relationship with her sire, but he had never stooped so low as to blackmail one of his children. This woman’s father must be quite a scoundrel indeed.
“I’ve shocked you.” It wasn’t a question but more of a bland statement.
“I daresay you have.” Lyra sat back against the cushioned squabs of the carriage and shook her head, trying to imagine a man so heartless.
Her companion shrugged. “It’s not as if he hasn’t tried to do something of this nature before, but since my sister and I haven’t heard from him in years, we assumed that he was dead.”
“What about your mother?”
“I’m afraid she’s gone,” Clara replied softly. “She died shortly after we were born. We’re twins, you see, and I’m told it was a rather difficult lying in for her.”
“Do you have any other family? Any male relation that you might prevail upon?”
“There is no one.” With a deep breath, she changed the subject. “But enough about me and my trials. Tell me how you and your husband met.”
Lyra yearned to help this woman, but perhaps it would ease this woman’s mind to think of someone else’s troubles for a while. In truth, it wasn’t Lyra’s place to pry further, especially when it came to someone she’d just met, but she promised herself she would find some way to repay her kindness someday. “It’s a rather complicated story actually.” She took a deep breath. “You see, I was married once before to the Earl of Weston…”
When she was finished with her tale a short time later, Clara gave a long sigh. “It sounds like a fairy tale.” She winced. “Or rather, itendedlike a fairy tale.”
Lyra looked down at her hands. “That all remains to be seen. I just hope I haven’t messed things up too much. Hedidleave London after all.”
“I’m sure there’s a good explanation for it too.” Clara pointed out. “Don’t criticize yourself too much. We all do and say things we regret when we’re upset.”
Lyra couldn’t help but smile. “Like riding out in the middle of an ice storm?”
