Her grandmother chattered on, moving from one plan to the next. Clara spent her time finding her courage to say what she had come to say.
“You are probably relieved,” she finally interrupted.
“Pleased, that is certain.”
“No,relieved. You so worried that Stratton might harm Theo. Remember? It was your reason for trying to form an alliance through marriage. So he would not find a reason to challenge Theo.”
“I am sure I did not say it quite that way.”
“You said it exactly that way. As did Theo. You indicated it had to do with that old argument over property. I thought it bizarre that you believed he would kill a man over that ancient disagreement. And you said I did not know everything.”
“Did I say that? I don’t remember. Nor can I think why I would. Now, about your wedding garments—”
“You know why he came back. Why he fought those duels. What he intended to discover. That was why you were afraid.”
“I am sure that I do not know what you—”
“He has learned what you feared he would learn, Grandmamma. About how my father revived the accusations and even sent a man to investigate. He says he knows everything.”
The dowager fussed with the bottles and cases on her dressing table, holding her expression firm and her composure strong.
“Except he is wrong,” Clara said. “He does not really know everything, even now. I think I do, however.” She stood, walked over to her grandmother, and placed a sheet of paper on the table in front of her. “As do you.”
Her grandmother looked down at it. Her color rose. She picked it up and waved it. “What nonsense is this?”
“It is a drawing of jewelry.”
“I can see that.”
“That set belonged to Stratton’s family. Only I saw it here when I was very young. Right here, in this very dressing room. It was in that drawer with your paints. I even wore it. Then I stared at it in a looking glass while you whipped me. Do you remember? I have never forgotten.”
Her grandmother’s arm dropped. The drawing hung limply from her hand, then fell to the floor. She turned her body and faced Clara. She looked afraid.
Clara’s heart clenched for her. This woman was often an interfering harridan, but she was also family.
“I love you, Grandmamma, but not enough to pretend ignorance about this. A man killed himself over this deception. The man I love believes one of his parents committed treason. So I must put the question to you. How did jewelry that I saw in your possession find its way to France to help pay for Napoleon’s last army?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Adam rode to the entrance of Gifford House and handed his horse to a waiting groom. To his surprise, Brentworth rode in right after him.
“I hope you did not forget to bring the special license,” Brentworth said after dismounting.
“I have no license yet.”
“You can’t get married without one.”
“I am not getting married today.”
“How odd. I received a letter yesterday from the dowager requesting my attendance today tobear witness. Her exact words.”
“Since I came at her request as well, let us go in and see what whimsy drew us here.”
They were brought to the drawing room. The dowager sat there, resplendent in black. Her grandson did too, looking bored. Clara also waited, along with an older woman.
“What is Lady Farnsworth doing here?” Brentworth murmured to Adam.
“Perhaps she will bear witness too. It would be like the dowager countess to find a way to arrange a wedding without my consent.”
