Her expression shattered. “Of course I know it. It is unkind to remind me now, right after giving me that gift.”
“You are right. It was unkind and clumsy.” He kissed her cheek and tasted moisture. He never expected to see Clara cry about anything, least of all him.
He pulled her on his lap to embrace and kiss her until pleasure made her forget any unhappiness.
A half hour later they lay entwined on the carpet, under the dome, catching their breath while they gazed up at the stars speckling the black in the circle of windows at its base. She wore only the necklace and he nothing at all.
“Come down to the country with me,” he said. “You can stay at the Grange and ride over to Drewsbarrow every day to be with me.”
She did not respond at once.
“Of course, if your mysterious doings will not allow it—”
“It sounds scandalous,” she said with a naughty smile. “Shocking. A whole week of unfettered passion. Why, some might call that decadent. What kind of woman do you think I am?”
“An enchanting woman. A beautiful woman.” He kissed her. “A rare woman.”
She laughed. “Those were excellent answers.”
“I can keep going.”
“Please do.”
He continued praising her, with his words and then with his hands and mouth, until she agreed to try and join him down in Warwickshire.
* * *
Clara did not believe she could leave town for a week without her family knowing it. She would have to tell them but find good reasons that called her there. The next morning she wrote to her grandmother, explaining that she had to go down to Hickory Grange to meet with the steward about some tenants on her property. She offered to bring back anything that her grandmother requested.
A letter arrived in the next post, from Emilia.I was told you are going to Warwickshire. Please do not stay there long. I will be left with a different chaperone during your absence, which means I will have no fun at all.
That evening a letter from Theo arrived, asking her to bring back a favored waistcoat that he had left behind.
No response came from her grandmother. No scolds. No complaints. No objections. How odd. Perhaps she schemed to use this time to send Theo to Stratton, to put the question to the duke. If so, Theo would be unable to do so.
Packed and ready, the next day she and Jocelyn climbed into the carriage with Mr. Brady at the reins. Two days later they pulled up in front of Hickory Grange’s manor house.
She let Jocelyn settle her in while she met with the steward that afternoon. She had not lied about having business with him. She used the same one as Theo, and together they rode to the farms in question and discussed the improvements that he felt two houses needed.
They finished early enough that she debated her plans. She had intended to ride over to Drewsbarrow in the morning, but right now she was halfway there already.
“Please tell the housekeeper and butler that I decided to continue riding,” she told the steward. “I should be home by dusk, but in any case they are not to worry. If night or weather catches me, I will stop at a neighbor’s house.”
He rode away charged with her message. She turned her horse east. Stratton would be surprised to see her now, but in the best way.
She had never visited Drewsbarrow. She had never even spied the house from a road. As she rode toward it, its appearance struck her as appropriate to its name. A thick grove surrounded it on its hill, filled with tall, old oak trees. People of the county often still referred to it by the old name for the hill from centuries ago. Back then it was called Druids Barrow, or grove of the druids.
No druids greeted her. Only servants. The house, constructed of stone, rose tall, wide, and formidable. Little decoration relieved its mass. Any thoughts that it might not be a comfortable place disappeared as soon as a footman admitted her. Old-fashioned luxury waited.
The servants had never met her, but they knew who she was. Her footman did not even look at her calling card. “You are expected,” he said. “I will bring you to His Grace at once.”
Through cavernous chambers and echoing halls they traipsed. All the rich paneling, beamed ceilings, thick tapestries, and heavy fireplaces made her feel like she toured one of Queen Elizabeth’s castles.
Finally, in what seemed a deep corner of the ground level, the footman opened a door. A simple office lay on the other side, one with plaster walls and a timbered ceiling. Wooden boxes piled high with papers and scrolls lined a long table. Only when the footman announced her did a dark head emerge on the other side of that wall.
“Lady Clara. What a happy surprise.” Stratton stood and came around the table. He bowed. She curtsied. He sent the footman away. As soon as the latch clicked, he grabbed her. “Damn, I thought you would never get here,” he murmured between kisses. “I had given up hope for today.”
“I can only stay a short while before riding back.” She looked at those boxes. “What are you doing?”
