Page 53 of The Untamed Heart

He didn’t.

Clara stood just inside the room and Alex tried to be objective. She was a small creature, lamentably dressed in a shabby gown that once might have been blue but had faded to a dingy shade for which he had no name. Her bonnet was the ugliest creation he’d ever seen, and her features were unprepossessing. No one would give her a second glance.

More fool them, he thought furiously.

“Clara,” he said. “I’m… I’m glad you came.”

She nodded and, looking as if she was steeling herself for an unpleasant task, came to stand in front of the desk. Alex braced himself, fearing the worst, but forced himself to meet her eyes.

She had the prettiest eyes, he thought suddenly, as if seeing them for the first time. A deep shade of green that put him in mind of forest glades.

“Hawk—Alex,” she corrected herself, a deep blush surging up her neck to colour her cheeks. “I b-beg you will forgive me for my behaviour last we met. I do not know what came over me.”

Alex gaped at her. She was apologising to him?

“Clara,” he began, but she held up her hand, silencing him with some force.

“If… If you are truly my friend, Alex, I beg you will not speak another word about it, that you will do me the kindness to forget that day and my… my foolishness. Please. Might we start over and pretend it never happened?”

She stood there with her cheeks blazing, twisting her hands together in agitation, and there was such a note of pleading behind the words that Alex had no choice. He could not prolong her agony, even to explain to her that he was at fault, not her.

“Of course,” he said, hurrying around the desk to her. “Of course. We shall say no more about it.”

Clara let out a breath, and he felt he saw the weight of relief as it left her shoulders. That he had eased her mind gladdened his heart, and yet he wished at once that he had not capitulated so quickly, that he had explained himself fully and owned himself at fault.

For he had not for one moment said those fateful words because he believed no one would ever take her for his mistress. Though it was true that most noblemen’s lovers were high flyers, women of great beauty, greater ambition, and cunning enough to make the most of every opportunity, and such descriptions could not apply to Clara. It had been the idea that he would allow anyone to refer to her in such disparaging terms that had made him speak so furiously. As if he would let that happen! It was intolerable.

Yet he could read in her eyes what it had cost her to come here and face him and knew she might crumble entirely if he forced the issue. He could not do that to her. Resolved to endure his guilt and discomfort as a just punishment, he would hold his tongue as he’d promised to do, though he cursed himself for allowing her opinion of him to remain. But it was only temporary.

He would give it a few days, a week perhaps, and when she was comfortable in his company again, he would explain himself properly.

For now, he would simply enjoy the fact that she was here, and that she did not hate him.

“Where is Benny?” he asked, realising belatedly that her little shadow was not at her heels.

“Howard took him to the kitchens. Apparently, the staff dote upon him. He was halfway to the stairs before I was through the door,” she said ruefully.

Alex smiled, wondering how best to put her at ease, for she still seemed agitated and not at all the charming companion he’d grown used to. “Well, do you think he might like a turn around the gardens? I do not believe we are in danger of a drenching,” he added, glancing out of the window at a sky where white clouds were scudding at an alarming rate, but did not appear to be threatening rain.

“A dish of roast chicken and a cosy fire might prove tempting, but I feel certain that the lure of your company will trump all else,” she said with a smile, visibly relaxing as she understood he would carry on as usual.

He laughed, as she had intended he should, and Alex told himself he was relieved by their return to normality. Yet he sensed a slight reserve in her now, the first suspicion of a wall, erected to keep him out.

Alex opened the door for her, waiting as she walked out of his study before following her. It was all wrong, though. Something had gone terribly wrong, and he did not like it.

He did not like it at all.

Chapter 15

In Silent Admiration

The Heights, Little Valentine, East Sussex, 29th September 1816

It had taken time to find the spot, and more money than he’d wished to spend. Now there were only three shillings and sixpence between him and a night out of doors, and Major Charles Keller knew precisely who to blame: the very same man who had ruined his army career with his slavish devotion to rules and regulations and to his men.

Hamilton had always fussed over his men like a mother hen with her chicks, preferring to spend his time with the ill-bred louts he led than with his fellow officers. He had forgotten what it meant to be a gentleman. He had forgotten what honour was.

No gentleman would have heaped shame and blame upon Keller as Hamilton had done. But that was all right. He was strong enough to endure the lies and unfounded accusations. He had endured a great deal: the contemptuous looks from men who had been his friends, and the jeering laughter from the sheep he had been expected to lead, those ignorant devils who were supposed to respect him.