“As we met in such a place you can’t expect me to think otherwise!” Clara said tartly.
“Yes, as
we
met there I don’t suppose I can,” Edmund responded meaningfully.
Clara flushed at his tone, but continued nonetheless. “I had legitimate reasons to be there.”
“As did I.”
“Which you have never explained.”
“I didn’t think I had too.”
“I think it’s only fair; otherwise you have the advantage over me.”
“That my sweet, is an advantage I am reluctant to give up.”
Clara smiled. “A man of mystery then.”
“You make me sound intriguing.”
“More like tedious. I hate mysteries.”
Edmund blinked. “You think I’m tedious?” Surprisingly his pride had been dented by her words. He was not vain enough to think women found him irresistible, but he had always been sought after even though he was known as more abrupt than some of his contemporaries. He was easily bored and could quickly show it, but he had been decidedly charming in Clara’s presence. He had arrogantly assumed she would be charmed by his attention.
“It would be far more entertaining to be able to talk over the things we saw, to ridicule the nonsensicalness of the situation but, because you are being mysterious, we can’t do that. I would always be afraid of saying something that clashed with your raison d’etre. You’ve taken the fun out of it, My Lord.”
“It was not my intention to spoil your amusement,” Edmund said his tone cool.
“But I won’t persuade you to explain yourself, will I?”
“No.”
Clara sighed. She was very attracted to the man who moved through the dance as if he had been born to it. He was an excellent partner and, even when he was scowling at her as he was now, he was still so dashingly impressive. If he was not so frustratingly coy about Mrs Langtree’s, she would be a fair way to being in love with him, but Milly was right: something about him did not quite make sense. That being said, she could still enjoy being in the company of a handsome man; she was only human after all.
Edmund, on the other hand, was cursing his lot. He wanted to tease and flirt with Clara, an unusual desire, but he could not. Yet again he was reminded of the inconvenience of his current occupation. Once Joshua Shambles was revealed to be of interest, or not, Edmund determined he was going to refuse to be of any future help; he had wasted too much time on being patriotic.
He sighed; if he did not change the subject it would be a very long hour. “There is one part of the night that we can discuss,” he whispered as they passed in the set.
“Oh?” Clara responded with a slight flush. She had detected the change in his tone and was a little wary; he was an expert at the art of flirting; she was out of her depth in that respect and did not like to be at such a disadvantage.
“Yes,” Edmund smiled, in control once more. “I was wondering what I needed to do to receive thanks from you again; I take it I could look forward to your kisses whenever you receive my help?”
Clara blushed deep red. “You know full well you were the instigator in that circumstance!”
“I didn’t see you objecting; in fact you responded well with a little direction.”
“You are not being a gentleman, My Lord,” came the prim response.
“I never promised to do that. If that is who you expect whenever we meet, I’m doomed to disappoint,” Edmund said woefully.
Clara nipped his arm with her fingers as their hands parted and was rewarded with a chuckle from Edmund. She hated feeling so out of her depth as she had since she had first been in his company, but she enjoyed the teasing at the same time. It was confusing but addictive, and she was sorry when the two dances were over.
Edmund returned his partner to the edge of the ballroom and was soon joined by Henry, Milly, Charles and Miss Beresford, who had made her appearance in good time for the dances. Edmund secured Miss Beresford for the next dance and Henry secured Clara, leaving Charles and Milly to rejoin the set.
Clara was curious about Lord Grinstead; she had seen him at entertainments, but their paths had never crossed. He was very popular and, even in the short time that she had observed him, had appeared far more sociable and accepted than his friend. Henry was constantly being greeted by someone or other during their two dances, whereas Edmund had been smiled at, but more or less left alone.
Henry was a handsome man, tall, dark and rugged looking. Clara thought he would suit being on a pirate ship on the high seas because of his looks alone, but his manner and easy way softened his ruggedness. She was inclined to like him for dancing with Milly.
“Lord Chertsey wasn’t too kind about your dancing ability, My Lord. I’d pitied my toes at the start of the dance, but I now know his criticism to be unfounded,” Clara said playfully as they danced.
Henry laughed. “He’s afraid of the competition,” he responded.
“Obviously.”
“Your home is on the Dorset coast I believe?” Henry asked.
“Yes, our family have lived at Seaton near Lyme for generations.”
“Ah, Seaton? Your cousin mentioned Lyme, but I hadn’t realised it was Seaton. An old friend lives there, Mr Brandon. I don’t know if you are acquainted with him?”
“Oh yes!” Clara replied with a smile. “His estate borders our own. My father was best friends with old Mr Brandon, but sadly he died a few months after my own father. I’m presuming you are friends with the son?”
“Yes, Thomas Brandon and I went to school together.”
“He has recently married I believe.”
“Yes, I attended the wedding. Miss Poplar, as was, brought a substantial dowry to the marriage.”
“A large dowry is always useful when an estate needs to be refurbished,” Clara said with a smile.
“Miss Baker! I’m shocked at your cynicism!” Henry said; his smile belied his words.
“I doubt that very much, My Lord,” Clara smiled sweetly. “Although in my defence, it’s not cynicism but truth. There is no point skirting the subject. Mr Brandon did need a large dowry to maintain his estate.”
“Some would say it’s ill-bred to be so open, Miss Baker.” Henry lessened the potential sting of the words with a winning smile, one that he used to achieve his desired effect.
“Then I’m afraid I’m ill-bred, My Lord. You should choose your dancing partner with more care. It’s a label I shall not lose sleep over,” Clara said with a shrug. “I would rather be honest than talk around a subject.”
“An endearing quality,” he responded as they parted once more in the dance.
After the dances when the group had separated to spend time with other acquaintances, Henry approached Edmund at the edge of the ballroom. His friend was watching the Baker brother and sister, but it was Clara that took most of his attention. Edmund raised his brow as his friend leaned against the marble pillar. “Had enough of this nonsense yet?” Edmund drawled.
“Soon, my social butterfly, soon,” Henry said with a smile. “The family live next to Thomas Brandon.”
“Do they? Can’t see what help that would be. I thought he’d cast you off his estate for causing the local smuggling ring to be caught by the excise men on his land?” Edmund smirked at the memory of Henry’s dressing down at the hands of their old school friend.
“Smuggling is a crime,” Henry responded unremorsefully.
“One that half the coast is taking part in,” Edmund said being realistic.
“He shouldn’t have allowed it, especially when I was visiting. He’ll have calmed down by now. He’s been married for months; he’ll probably welcome a visit from us. I would imagine he’ll be henpecked to death; we’ll provide some relief from the tedium of matrimony,” Henry responded confidently.
“I thought you liked his wife,” Edmund said in surprise.
“I liked her when she was unmarried. Every woman turns into a termagant when she marries.”
“Good grief! I thought my outlook on life was bleak; I’m positively chipper compared to you! So, we’re to visit him are we?”
“Not yet, but I think it’s always wise to have a plan forming, don’t you?”
“I’m just glad my mind works nothing like yours,” Edmund said with feeling. Henry loved the thrill of the chase and, although Edmund had also initially, the pleasure in that had soon worn off. Now he wanted something else; he just did not know what it was.
Chapter 6
Charles entered the breakfast room waving a missive at Clara and Milly. “You must have made a hit last night; we’ve been invited out,” he said cheerfully.
“Made a hit with whom?” Clara asked, already finishing her breakfast.
“Lord Grinstead and Lord Chertsey. I’ve received a note inviting us all out for a ride today to Hampstead. They say the heath is lovely on a sunny day. They are providing a picnic for us all; one of them must be sweet on you Clara. Come, tell me which one do you hope to secure?” Charles said teasingly, whilst filling his plate with ham, eggs and bread.
Clara laughed. “Neither!” she responded, but her stomach had fizzed at the thought of one of the gentlemen mentioned.
“It is an honour that they have invited us on such a short acquaintance,” Milly said quietly.
“Exactly! Which is why I think one of them is sweet on my dear sister!” Charles responded. “There’ll be a wedding before the season is out; mark my words.”
“Charles you are ridiculous!” Clara scolded.
“Well, why else would they ask us out?”
“I have no idea,” Clara responded. “Are you free, Charles? You are normally busy every day.” She had tried to keep her tone level, trying not to sound accusing.
“I was going to go out with Joshua today, but I’ll send a note with my apologies. I’d be a fool to turn down this invitation.”
Clara and Milly exchanged a glance at Charles’ words. Clara was especially inclined to look on the day with pleasure now that she knew Joshua Shambles would not be in the company of her brother.
*
The party set-off from Half Moon Street in good time to get the best out of the day. Milly was seated next to Lord Grinstead in his high perch phaeton, her lilac day dress and deep purple pelisse, looking fine against Henry’s dark grey great coat. Charles, Edmund and Clara had all chosen to ride. Clara was dressed in a deep blue riding habit, with black top hat, the organza swathed around the hat and flowing down her back, ready to stream backwards in the wind when she was travelling at speed.
Boxes were strapped to the phaeton, loaded with food and drink for the party, while Edmund had picnic rugs strapped behind his saddle.
Clara was a confident horsewoman, her time at home spent more in the saddle than out of it. A quiet life led by their parents had ensured that their children had made their own entertainment, travelling far and wide over the local area when Charles’ school holidays had allowed it.
Charles was happy to talk to Henry and Milly, so Clara and Edmund paired as soon as they had left the bustle of the City streets behind.
“I imagine you approve of your brother’s activities of the last two days?” Edmund asked when sure that they would not be overheard.
“Yes, it is nice to see the old Charles emerging,” Clara responded honestly. “He turns into someone different when associating with Mr Shambles.”
“Or is it that he turns into someone different when being defensive under his sister’s disapproval?” Edmund asked with a raise of his eyebrow.
“That sounds like the voice of experience, My Lord,” Clara responded with a smile.
“An aunt in my case,” came the easy response. “I was destined to disappoint her.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, her son did not inherit the sacred title, which she thought should have been his, whilst at the same time I was doing my best to discredit every ancestor I had. She didn’t seem to appreciate that the longer it took me to settle down and produce an heir, the more likely my cousin would inherit. According to Aunt Janet, the family crypt was a very busy place.”
“I don’t understand?” Clara asked puzzled.
“From the skeletons that were constantly turning in their graves as a direct result of my activities.”
Clara burst out laughing. “I have some sympathy with your aunt! You are cruel to take pleasure out of tormenting her, My Lord.”
“I didn’t initially. I can honestly say that I never considered her once during any of my activities,” Edmund said with a grin.
Clara’s heart rate definitely increased whenever Edmund smiled. He was everything that seemed perfect in a man, but the knowledge of his rakish background kept Clara from completely losing her heart to him. He was a rake, and men with those tendencies did not make good husbands, even if he was looking to marry, which her realistic side presumed not. She had to enjoy his company, but nothing more; no good would come of her losing her heart to him apart from her own heartbreak. His kisses, though, she probably would never stop reliving in her private moments.
“I can understand your dislike of Mr Shambles, but is it just him as an acquaintance that you object to or the amount of funds that your brother must be spending?”
“I admit I don’t like the thought of Charles spending the whole of his wealth,” Clara confessed becoming serious. “But it isn’t just that. Apart from separating my brother from his money, Mr Shambles hasn’t exactly done anything wrong to my knowledge.” Clara looked a little uncomfortable at this point, but continued. “But there is something that I just don’t trust about him.”