Page 11 of A Duke Makes a Deal
“Remain there if you would,” she said coolly as her brow arched. “I’ve no wish for you to come any closer.”
“Miss Woodvine—”
“And I would greatly appreciate it if you refrained from speaking to me. Ever again, if you can manage.” She turned to see the Duke of Combe, whose dark hair and heated stare bore into her with unreadable scrutiny. “I’m sorry to inform you, your grace, but this man is a fraud. He does not have any claim to me or my dowry. And he never will.”
Dilworth said, “But—”
“The lady told you to stop speaking,” Combe growled.
Clara’s eyes caught the duke’s, and she felt her racing heartbeat to a different feeling. Was she grateful? Scared?Aroused?
Yes, to all those, but she couldn’t let herself acknowledge any of those feelings. Not now, and certainly not in front of any of these men, particularly the duke.
She moved away from him to face the earl.
“I was unaware that the Trembley house held such vile games. Wagering away people as if they were cattle. Had I known, I would have refused your invitation a thousand times over.”
“Miss Woodvine. You must allow me to apologize.”
“Must I? Very well, then. Apologize, if you find it so necessary. But know that I do not accept.” She stuck out herchin. She knew what she was about to say was social suicide, but she’d rather be dead to these sorts of people anyway. “Every man in this room is a dishonorable cad.”
Her hands were shaking uncontrollably now as she took on their offending stares. Clearly, they didn’t like to be called to task for their behavior. Well, she didn’t like being wagered away, so it seemed that no one in the room had reason to be happy.
She tucked her hands behind her back so they would not see and clutched her gloved fingers together as tight as she could. She swallowed hard as she eyed every one of them, her eyes settling on Combe for some reason. She wouldn’t give Dilworth the satisfaction of looking him in the eye, and while the others all appeared too stunned to know how to respond to the situation, Combe seemed, well, steady. There was a fire in his eyes that had no right being there, but she found herself focusing solely on him.
“I am ashamed to have come to this house,” she said. “If any of you feel an ounce of remorse for watching this disgusting act play out, I ask that you show your repentance by forgetting my family and me indefinitely. I shan’t acknowledge any of you ever again. But I won’t tell anyone about this either. It is my hope that it will be forgotten and that no one outside of this room will ever learn what has taken place,” she said, barely noticing out of the corner of her eye as Dilworth grabbed something off the table and stuffed it into his pocket. She couldn’t muster any curiosity over what he had swiped. Whatever he did was none of her business anymore. Her gaze stayed fixed on Combe. “I wish to be left alone,” she said. “Forever.”
When no one spoke, she nodded and turned to leave the way she came. She wondered if she had shocked them into a stupor, for she was up the stairs, down the hidden staircase, and in the hallway in a matter of minutes without anyone saying a word or making the slightest move to stop her.
Clara was eager to find her father and mother, and when she did, she told them that she had come down with a terrible headache and wished to leave immediately. Concerned for their daughter, the Woodvines said their goodbye and were soon on their way home, away from the glitz and glamour of Mayfair and back to their respectable neighborhood of Paddington.
Of course, after Clara’s maids helped her undress and closed her door, Clara couldn’t hold in the emotions any longer. Crouching down against the base of her bedroom door, pathetic tears streamed down her cheeks as her arms wrapped tightly around her bent knees.
How absolutely humiliating the entire evening had been! She had never been so furious before, and the shame of it all seemed to consume her. What an awful combination. When her anger eventually subsided, she was left with a terrible pain in her heart that she hadn’t ever experienced before.
If Clara had ever doubted her place in society, tonight’s events confirmed it. She had no business mingling and attempting to become friendly with the ton. No business aspiring to marry into their ranks. To be used as she had been, to be bet on and traded for…well, it had been far worse than any heartache that might have come from learning that the man she had hoped to be a help mate to had lost her in a gamble.
Clara squeezed her eyes shut tightly as tears gently fell down the sides of her face. Her hand came up to her forehead, and she tried to rub away the now genuine headache she felt. Miserable, she stood, made her way to her bed, and laid down with a thud. Surrounded in darkness, she wondered about Dilworth. He was not worth the aggravation, but she had pinned many of her hopes on him. Although she was sure she wasn’t actually in love with him, she’d had hope of love growing between them once they were wed. She’d spent many hours picturing their happy future together.
But it was not to be.
Feeling dejected, Clara rolled to her side and gazed at the window. It was a clear night, and feeling restless, she pushed herself up and swung her legs off the bed.
Her bedroom commanded a view of the courtyard at the back of their house, and she made her way to it. A circular pond sat in the center of the green, with the square garden separated by four boxwood-lined yards, each with a pear tree planted in the middle. As she wiped away her tears, she saw the reflection of the stars in the water and lifted her eyes upward.
How fitting, she mused as she gazed up at the night sky. The stars had seemed so close, almost within reach, when it had only ever been an illusion. Just like she had had the illusion that there was a place for her among the glittering throngs of the ton. It had been not very reasonable to think that she might find her happily ever after so quickly but she had stubbornly believed it. Why shouldn’t she find happiness and love? Her parents had been happily married for decades after having accidentally met in an apple orchard.
Now, though, she wondered if she was doomed to marry a fortune chaser just because she was wealthy. Even if she did marry someone who claimed not to care about her fortune, how could she ever trust her future husband’s honesty? Her dowry seemed the most attractive thing about her, and she hated it. Perhaps she should run away and develop a new identity where she didn’t have any money. Then she could see who was truly worth investing her time with.
Just then, a star shot across the sky, its shimmering tail disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared. For a brief moment, she contemplated making a wish, but then she didn’t want to be the kind of foolish girl who believed in such nonsense anymore.
Looking back down at the reflecting pool, she frowned. Her breath fogged the window before her. She traced her index finger against the condensation, making a circle as she sighed.
“I wish someonewouldlove me.”
Chapter Four
Several blocks away,on the eastern side of Hyde Park, in a mansion not unlike the Earl of Trembley’s, Silas laid in bed, his hands cradled behind the back of his skull. He stared up at the canopy of his four-poster bed, concentrated on the thumping of his heartbeat that rang in his ears.What a bloody mess of a night. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to force himself to sleep, fighting off the consuming panic that flooded his veins.
