Page 52 of The Trouble with Tweed

Horror nearly stole his breath. “Oh, Claire.”

“Of course I didn’t comprehend where I was until I was halfway up the second flight of stairs.” She huffed a disgusted laugh. “My brother was such a degenerate he had his own room.”

Michael couldn’t help it; his lip curled. Even if he’d thought it wise to speak, he couldn’t have mustered words.

Claire continued, “So when I ran from his room it was already dark. I started down the hall and…I recognized some men.”

“Who?” he asked, his voice guttural.

Claire shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, but I knew that if they saw me…”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence; they both knew what would have happened to Claire’s reputation if she’d been spotted in a brothel.

His forehead wrinkled. “Is that why you are trying to get married? You’re worried they might have seen you?”

“No.” She shook her head again. “Just listen. I ran out into the hall and they were coming my direction, so I had to hide. I opened a door.” Here, she appeared to choke for a moment. “But the room was occupied. Thankfully, the next door was a small closet. I wedged myself in and shut the door behind me just in time.”

He was gripping her hand now, trying to offer his strength. This memory was obviously difficult for her to recount. He hoped this story would help illuminate why she’d been angry with him, though Michael knew for a fact that he had not been one of the gentleman she recognized there.

He had never found cause to step foot in a brothel himself. When he’d been on the cusp of manhood, his father had invited the family physician over, and the three of them had a frank, private, embarrassing, and very alarming conversation that had impressed upon Michael the dangers of ever visiting such a place. Not to mention the moral implications.

“It was too busy,” she whispered. “I couldn’t find a good time to escape, one where I was sure I wouldn’t be spotted. So I stayed there. Overnight. I just sat on an overturned bucket and prayed that nobody would need to use the mop.”

“All night?” Michael’s stomach turned as she nodded.

For a moment they sat silent, the reality of what she must have overheard pressing in on him until he thought he might be sick.

Claire gave a little shake. “In the morning I was able to sneak out while everyone was sleeping. None of my sisters ever knew that I was even gone. I snuck into the house, washed, and went down to breakfast like it had never happened. I’ve never told anyone. Until now.”

“I’m so sorry, Claire.”

She shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

Michael shook his head. He could tell by the way she spoke of it that the memory was still fresh to her.

She turned to him and faced him fully. “I’m trying to explain that I got a front-row seat to the reality of what might happen to ladies who have no one to provide for or protect them.”

He reared back. This was why she wanted to marry prudently above all else.

Michael held her thin hand with both of his now, the reins dropped and forgotten. “Claire, I promise you that I would never let that happen to you.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she said, still distracted by her memories.

Michael wondered if she realized what she’d just admitted to him. He wondered if she’d ever realize that she trusted Michael to keep her safe.

“I am sorry that happened,” he said. “Truly I am. But Claire, you made it through. Your sisters made it through because of you. You are strong and wonderful. You kept them safe.”

“If it’s over, why doesn’t it feel like it?” she asked, meeting his eyes. Her forehead was crinkled in confusion.

“When my father died,” he started slowly, then swallowed. It was harder to say these words than it should have been. But she had offered him a piece of her, and he wanted to return the favor. He cleared his throat and tried again. “My father’s death was unexpected.”

“I remember,” she murmured. She squeezed his fingers back. He was grateful for the support, bolstered by it.

He continued, “Mother was devastated. She was—” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that before or since. I was truly concerned for her. And Sylvia was still young. She needed me too. There was so much to be done. No one tells you how much work it is when someone close to you dies.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Michael nodded back, because Claire did know. “I was strong for them. I had to be. I needed to take over the estate. I needed to set up everything for his funeral. I had to comfort my sisters. It was only after months had passed, when Mother finally got her feet back underneath her again, when Sylvia seemed all right, when the bills were paid and my stewards were taking care of most everything else…” He winced. “That’s when I finally fell apart.”