“I’ve been honest with you; it’s only right you offer me the same courtesy,” Clara’s mind was screaming at her to walk away now, but she needed to know the truth.
“I’m trusting you that this goes no further. I work to gather information, looking at people who are working against King and country,” Edmund said quietly. He would normally have made up some silly excuse to put off any questioning, but for the first time in his life he needed to be truthful with her.
“You’re a spy?” Clara asked in disbelief.
“I suppose you could call it that,” Edmund said, looking uncomfortable.
“Why would you do that?” Clara asked incredulously. “Why would a titled gentleman lower himself to becoming a spy? Only people who were déclassé surely would consider taking on such an occupation?”
“A title does not guarantee the quality of the pedigree,” Edmund said drily.
“Don’t try to convince me the way you see yourself is anything other than the top of the tree in society!” Clara responded. “It doesn’t make sense!”
“Perhaps I was just bored.”
“Bored? That’s it?”
“Why does there need to be anything else?”
“Family loyalty? Family pride?” Clara was beginning to feel that the man standing before her was a complete stranger when she had thought him the opposite.
“I was persuaded to do a job, and initially I was entertained by it; society can be dreary as you well know.”
“Surely there must be other entertainments? I had thought it was bad enough you visiting places such as Mrs Langtree’s, but this is even worse!” Clara exclaimed forgetting her angst whilst the feelings of disbelief threatened to swamp her.
Edmund was uncomfortable with Clara’s condemnation. He was fully aware that spying was seen as a lowly profession, definitely not one that the titled classes would normally become involved with, but it had seemed like a challenge when he was first approached. Seeing it from Clara’s eyes added to the discontent which had started to niggle prior to him meeting her on that first eventful night.
“I have a job to do and, however repulsive it is to your senses, I intend doing it.”
“So you were following Charles the night we met?”
“No, at that point I didn’t know Shambles had made a friend of Charles, but then you walked into Mrs Langtree’s….”
“And gave you everything you wanted,” Clara said dully.
“Well–not exactly, but yes, you did lead me to Shambles and give me some interesting information,” Edmund had tried to keep his tone light, teasing her, but he could see that he was losing her. It was strange to see the light fade from her eyes when they had always sparkled when looking at him. If he could have detached himself from it, he could have forced some ironic amusement from his situation; the whole time she had wanted him he had been at pains to keep her aware of his views on attachments. It was only when he was losing her that he realised how important she was to him.
“And you pursued the connection with us both.”
Clara looked distraught. Her tone had been completely devoid of feeling; Edmund had to convince her it was not as she feared. “It must look like that, I agree, but that isn’t the whole story. If I hadn’t wanted to spend time with Charles and yourself I wouldn’t have.”
Clara stepped back, removing herself from the circle of his arms, which had felt so secure such a short time ago. “The kisses…,” she muttered, covering her cheeks with her hands in mortification.
“The kisses happened because I wanted them, and I think you did as well. They had nothing to do with any of this,” Edmund responded firmly. “You are confusing two completely different things.”
“Am I?” Clara asked looking at him once more. The hurt in her eyes made Edmund wince. “Am I really? Our friendship has just been a necessary aspect of your chase. I’ve been a complete fool in all respects!”
“I never promised anything,” Edmund said defensively. His words were said more to do with the fact that, for the first time in his life, he was hurting someone he cared about, and he could not deal with the remorse he was feeling, so in true Edmund style he had lashed out.
“No, you didn’t did you?” Clara said, her own anger bubbling. “I would be grateful, Lord Chertsey, if you left my brother’s land immediately. I don’t expect to see you at Glazebrook House, and I warn you, if I do see you, I will inform Mr Shambles that he is being watched.”
“You wouldn’t do that; you hate the man.”
“I do. Even more after today, but my primary aim is to protect my brother, and I will do that until my dying breath. If I see you again, I will inform Mr Shambles of your reason for being here; be of no doubt that I mean what I say.”
Edmund took a step forward and touched Clara’s face gently with his fingertips. “Clara, don’t push me away. Don’t spoil what we enjoyed because of what I do.”
Clara exploded. “How dare you? What is it about men that, no matter what their rank, they think anything is possible as long as they kiss the little woman?!”
“What do you mean?” Edmund asked. If Clara had not lost her temper so utterly, she would have noticed the darkening of Edmund’s expression and the severe tone in his voice, but she was beyond noticing.
“What do I mean?” Clara snapped. “I’m sick of being treated like something that can be picked up and used. You have been no better than Mr Shambles; you just do it with more finesse!”
Edmund lunged for Clara and grabbed her upper arms. “He’s kissed you?”
Clara leaned away from Edmund, partly in annoyance and partly in fear of his rough handling of her.
“Did he?” Edmund snarled.
Clara nodded. “He tried, but he didn’t get as far as you. Don’t worry; your ego won’t be damaged; you are a far better kisser!” Clara had flushed at the words. She sounded like a doxy; she knew she did, but she was just so angry and disappointed with Edmund that she could not stop the hurt spilling from her as a gush of vitriol.
“I’ll kill him!” Edmund snarled.
“Why? What right have you to even think that?” Clara seethed.
“He had no right to touch you,” came the snarled response.
“No. And neither did you! Please let go of me.”
“You’re not safe to be left alone!”
“You’re hurting me,” Clara responded quietly.
Edmund immediately released his hold and took a step back. He had lost his hat as soon as he had sat down. He ran his hands through his hair. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”
“You have, in more ways than the physical,” Clara said quietly. “Whether you intended to or not, you have acted in the way of a cad towards me. I admit to being naïve in the extreme; I now know there is no such thing as kisses without consequences, and I believe that you used me to achieve your aim. I cannot forgive that, more so than the deceit surrounding mine and Charles’ friendship. In all ways you have behaved despicably, My Lord. My earlier promise of informing Mr Shambles still stands. Good day.”
Clara turned on her heel, bent down to collect her bonnet and walked towards the path. Edmund took a step as if to follow her but then stopped. He was angry beyond anything he had ever felt before at the thought of Joshua Shambles touching her, but he could not disagree with what she had said.
He
had
used her; by God he had even argued with Henry about the fact of what he was going to do! It was his own stupidity that he had let Henry’s words persuade him. In reality they had just given him the excuse he was looking for to stay in touch to continue their kisses and flirting.
Edmund kicked the sand roughly as Clara’s form disappeared from sight. He had made a complete mess of it all.
“Miss Baker seemed eager to distance herself from you,” Henry said, casually walking towards Edmund. He smiled when his friend glowered at him.
“Mind your own business for once,” Edmund snarled.
Henry put his hands up in defeat. “I’ve never been one to become between two lovers! Don’t take your frustration out on me.”
“You won’t be so cool and confident when I tell you she knows who we are and Joshua Shambles is threatening to involve her brother if anything of his activities are discovered.”
“What? I leave you alone for five minutes and months of enquiries come crashing around my ears! You’d better tell me what the bloody hell is going on!” Henry snapped, all humour gone.
Edmund quickly briefed Henry what he had been told by Clara and what he surmised. “There is obviously something out of the ordinary going on within the next week, or he’d just move onto another location. He wouldn’t care about landing barrels of brandy on a different beach; whatever they’re planning needs this particular spot.”
“It would seem so. We are so close, yet it could so easily blow up in our faces. How much of a risk is it with Miss Baker? Do you think she’ll inform Joshua?”
“I’m not sure, I don’t think so. She hates me at the moment, but she hates Joshua Shambles slightly more, I think.”
Henry smiled slightly. “You must be losing your charm, old man!”
Edmund turned to Henry, fire in his eyes. “Is anything more important to you than the thrill of the chase? I’ve just destroyed the good opinion of one of, no,
the
most genuine person I have ever met, and all you can do is stand there and make it into some sort of joke!”
Henry shrugged. “Send her flowers, read her poetry, she’ll soon come round.”
“You really have no soul have you?” Edmund said in disgust.
“You’re going to tell me next that you’re sweet on the chit!”
“No, I’m not sweet on her; I think I’ve fallen in love with her,” Edmund said quietly, finally realising why he felt so sick to his stomach at the thought of Clara thinking ill of him. For the first time in his life he had met the person who he cared about more than anything and anyone else. The feeling was quite overwhelming, but it did not remove the sense of loss he would probably feel until his dying day. He had found someone so very special, and his actions had driven her away.
Henry became completely serious. “Forget about your lovelorn feelings; we are here to do a job, and I’m not going to allow you to make mistakes because you’ve decided to fall in love. Feelings like that are a weakness, they could get you killed. Buck up man! We are here to catch a traitor!”
Edmund turned away from Henry, disgusted at him. “Good luck with your plans. I’m not allowed to visit Glazebrook House, or our cover will definitely be blown; she was quite clear on that point. You’re on your own, Henry, and I couldn’t give a fig whether we get Joshua Shambles or not.”
Chapter 12
Thankfully Clara did not have to face anyone when she returned to the house. Charles had already left with Joshua, and Milly had gone for a walk through the gardens, so Clara was alone. She returned to her bedchamber and threw herself onto her bed. She wished that the canopy would fall down enabling her to be wrapped in the folds of material that would entomb her, allowing her to hide from the world.
She had been foolish in the greatest possible way. No matter how much she had tried to suppress the feelings, her vanity had been flattered, and she had believed the Earl of Chertsey was romantically attached to her. What a fool she had been! Why would he choose her over the beautiful, younger, far richer debutantes? For the first time in her life, Clara felt completely jealous of every woman under the age of twenty-two who might attract the Earl of Chertsey.
She thought her heart might break at the realisation she would never see him again, but it had been a necessary step; she could never be focused on protecting Charles while her emotions were in turmoil every time she thought of Edmund.
Her first priority was to protect Charles. If she could act normally for a week he would be safe and, hopefully, Joshua Shambles would disappear back into the hole he had crawled out of. Charles had been gullible but no more than Clara had in believing the words and actions of a rake and liar. How could she reprimand Charles when she had done exactly the same? The arguments that had occurred over the last months could have been so easily aimed at herself; the only difference being that most of her behaviour was unknown to her brother.
Clara climbed off her bed and sat before her dressing table. It would be hard hiding everything from Milly; she knew Clara better than anyone and would immediately be suspicious at the absence of the gentleman whom they both had suspected of ulterior motives in travelling so far from London. It would one day be laughable that the reason they had credited him with was so far removed from the truth; but Clara could not yet find humour in the situation.
She gazed at her reflection in the looking glass; she looked drawn, and her eyes were red with crying; it was time to pull herself together. She tried to straighten her hair without having to call her maid; the fewer people who saw her with red-rimmed eyes, the better.
As she reattached pins, she frowned. Spying was not a noble profession; if the truth came out, the Earl of Chertsey would suffer the scorn of his peers. She would use that against him if he dared to cross the threshold of Glazebrook House. Her shoulders sagged; the reality was she could not reveal the man for whom she had developed such deep feelings. Everything she felt was linked to him in such a way that it almost took her breath away.