Page 44 of A Lady's Propitious Match
The reassurance in Sophia’s words, the unwavering support of a sister who understood the complexities of love and societal expectations, offered Clara a life line in the storm. She might have a lot to deal with moving forwards, but at least she would always have support from those who meant the most to her… whatever she decided…
***
As Clara stepped across the threshold of the Belmont mansion, a heavy sense of foreboding settled upon her. The familiar grandeur of the entry hall seemed transformed, each elegant fixture and ornate decoration now cast in the shadows of an impending storm. Clara took a deep breath, bracing herself for the inevitable confrontation that awaited.
Her father appeared in the hallway like a looming figure head, like he had been waiting for her. His stern expression sending bolts of iciness all the way through her.
Clara steeled herself, ready to face the consequences of her feelings for Christopher, but nothing could have prepared her for the words that followed.
“Clara,” her father intoned, his voice carrying the weight of finality, “Lord Simon Caldwell came calling while you were out this afternoon.”
“He did?” Clara gasped, wanting to clutch her chest that was now aching.
“He has formally asked for your hand in marriage,” her father continued with a smirk playing on his lips, which scared Clara more than anything else. “And I have accepted on your behalf.”
The words hung in the air, a sentence of fate delivered with an icy resolve. Clara’s heart sank as the reality of her father’s proclamation unfolded. Lord Caldwell, a man chosen for his status and connections, was to be her future husband—a resolution deemed perfect by her father to sever the inappropriate ties with Christopher.
Her parents really had never listened to her wants and desires, which was made terribly obvious right now. They did not want her to be happy, just ‘appropriate’ in the eyes of society.
“The reading of the banns is set to take place in two days’ time,” Clara’s father continued, as if the mere scheduling of the announcement held no significance. “This union shall put an end to the whispers surrounding your inappropriate dalliances with Mr.Fitzhugh once and for all. Thank goodness. This really is a blessing considering the events of this morning.”
The ground beneath Clara seemed to shift, and the air felt thick with despair. The world she had known, a world where she believed her heart could carve its own path, crumbled before her. The fate her father had decreed appeared wretchedly sealed, a future chosen for her without regard for the desires of her heart.
Her father’s blessing, bestowed so readily, felt like a cage closing in. Clara’s gaze searched for a glimmer of understanding in her father’s eyes, but all she found was the unyielding resolve of a man who believed he knew what was best for his daughter.
“I… I see,” she finally declared, because what else could she say? It was an accomplished agreement. There was nothing else. “Well, I have a headache, so I think I must rest.”
The tears were coming again, and she did not want to let them fall in front of her father.
The journey to her chambers felt like an eternity, each step heavier than the last. Clara’s facade of composure wavered with every measured breath, and the weight of her impending union with Lord Caldwell bore down on her like an insurmountable burden.
Once behind the closed door, Clara’s stoic demeanor crumbled. The facade that had shielded her from the prying eyes of her family shattered, and gut wrenching sobs wracked her body. She collapsed onto her bed, the softness of the linens offering little solace for the storm raging within.
Trying to accept that it was over once and for all was like dealing with a grief that she truly was not ready for. One that she did not think she could ever overcome.
