Page 24 of A Duke Makes a Deal
“You cannot seriously be considering this, Silas.”
“Calm down, no one is getting betrothed,” he said. “Gavin’s just trying to annoy you.”
Gavin grinned and while Derek did seem to settle after that, Silas couldn’t shake a budding idea from his mind. Perhaps he could use Miss Woodvine and her distracting personality to better his own situation. If he could spend some time with her, he would have the opportunity to perhaps see if her presence could somewhat deafen his anxieties. It would certainly be worth investigating. Maybe he could finally bring some amount of peace to his life once more. And it wouldn’t hurt her reputation if it was reported that she had caught the attention of a duke. Scandal-ridden though he was, his title still carried weight. It could provide her with some protection.
Perhaps they could help each other? He needed to speak with Clara again and soon.
Chapter Seven
Clara had spentthe better part of the week locked in her room, unwilling to see or speak to anyone, even her parents. She knew she was behaving like one of the spoiled ladies she had viewed with disdain since arriving in London, but she couldn’t help herself. She had been humiliated by Bettina Moppet and Dilworth and now she was the laughingstock of all of London. All she wished was to disappear.
Of course, that was an impossibility. With Papa’s business dealings, they were compelled to stay in London until Parliament let out, which meant they would likely stay for several more months, much to Clara’s horror. Well, at least they wouldn’t be invited to many balls. The invitations had decidedly diminished since her argument with Bettina in the park. However, a growing number of calling cards were coming in daily from suitors. Clara had refused them all, wary of anyone now that her faith in her ability to judge people had been so utterly shaken. She had no wish to make any new acquaintances. It was best to stay firmly out of society, where she could do no more damage to her reputation.
The last caller she’d actually spoken with had been the Duke of Combe. Oddly enough, the kiss they had shared had been the only thing she had experienced in the past week that had offered her a pleasurable solace away from intrusive thoughts and terrible gossip. She found herself thinking about it often—and then scolding herself for dwelling on it when it was all too likely that he had already forgotten about it. It was probably for the best. She needed to stay away from members of the ton.
She had written her friend Holly about all her troubles and had not received a reply. When her maid had begun to knock frantically at her door, she hoped that it was because she had finally received a letter. But Clara only found her maid, Elizabeth, staring wide eyes as she opened the door.
“Elizabeth,” she said with concern. “What is it?”
“There are a great many things happening downstairs, miss,” Elizabeth said, hurrying inside. “You must dress for dinner.”
“I don’t feel like going down tonight,” Clara said, turning to follow her maid towards the wardrobe. “Maybe a tray can be sent up, like last night?”
“No, no, no,” Elizabeth said, pulling out her finest dresses. “You must dress.”
“Not in a ball gown, surely?” she said. She put her hand on Elizabeth’s wrist, stopping her. “Is there something wrong? What’s going on?”
“The Duke of Combe has arrived and requested an audience with your father,” Elizabeth said with a hushed tone, as if saying it too loud would cause the duke to leave. “He was very insistent.”
Panic set in as Clara’s heart started to race wildly. What on earth was the duke doing here and why did he wish to speak with her father? She had planned never to see him again.
“What does he want?” she asked as she quickly undressed. She nodded to the icy blue gown that had a lace detail along the hem and bodice. “When did he arrive?”
“A quarter of an hour ago, miss,” she said as she helped Clara dress. “He seemed rather determined.”
“Determined? What does that mean?”
“Well,” Elizabeth said as she laced Clara up. “He walked with purpose.”
“Did he? Hmm. None of these fine gentlemen ever walk with purpose,” she said. “But surely he only came to discuss some sort of investment with Papa. That’s the whole reason why we’re in town after all.”
“Perhaps, miss,” Elizabeth said, sounding unconvinced.
The maid forcibly pushed Clara onto a plush bench that sat before her vanity and quickly brushed out her hair. She applied some rose water to smooth the most aggravating waves and then pulled it all back into a simple psyche knot style that allowed Clara’s natural hair to appear simple yet regal in a Grecian sort of way.
She hurriedly put on her slippers and her maid all but pushed her out the door. She raced towards the top of the stairs and took a deep breath before descending with her best attempt at a calm façade. Why she felt so excited made no sense to her. Clara was not particularly interested in the duke, but the idea of seeing him again made her uncharacteristically eager.
Upon reaching the landing, she was unsure if she should go to her father’s office or search for her mother. The grumbling of her stomach made the decision for her and she went to the dining room, hoping to find a morsel or two to eat before the duke appeared.
Unfortunately, she would have no such luck. Entering the dining room, she saw her father, mother, and the duke, discussing something at the far end of the table. They instantly stopped talking when Clara appeared and she felt suddenly uneasy.
“Good evening,” she said, curtsying as the duke bowed. “Forgive me, your grace, I was unaware that you were joining us tonight.”
“I hadn’t planned on it. In fact I’m late for another appointment,” he said, his dark eyes on her. “But I had wished to discuss something with your father and it could not wait.”
“Ah,” she said with apprehension as a footman pulled out her chair. She sat down as did her mother. “A business venture, I presume?”
“No,” her father said. “Not quite.”
