Page 19

Gerald grinned. His words had the strain of exertion. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, but he didn’t seem beleaguered by it. Rather, he seemed to come alive.

“Of course not, Clara. Those rules have been etched into my mind. They are as important to me as the Commandments. I rather think that it is you who has put forward the best performance. There has not been one moment where you have let your mask slip.”

“We are both wearing masks, Gerald. Ones that hide loneliness.”

“Are you lonely?” he asked quickly, the question flashing in the air like a fencer’s epee. Clara realized she had left herself open. She flicked a lock of hair back and turned her head, staring at the oar cutting through the water.

“Of course I am not lonely. Are you?”

“I am alone, but I am not lonely.”

“Have you never felt the urge to marry?”

“No. It was expected of me once, but then my father died, and there was much to cope with. Not only was there the entire estate, but Eleanor as well. I did not have the time to court and then marry.”

“Another compromise,” Clara said. Gerald stopped rowing and let the momentum carry them across the middle of the lake. The boat bobbed back and forth. Water lapped gently against the hull. Gerald leaned forward and adopted a thoughtful expression.

“Indeed. The estate demanded much of me.”

“What was it like when your father died?” Clara asked, then gasped almost immediately. A shadow of regret came across her face. “Forgive me, Your Grace. That was rude of me. I did not mean to pry.”

Gerald looked at her intently for a moment. “Why did you ask me that?” he said quietly. Although it would ordinarily have been compromising to be in a boat together, they were trying to portray a close and intense courtship. These liberties taken by lovers were tolerated, as long as there were limits, of course. Gerald ensured that they never strayed too far from the lake’s edge, always within view of the people passing by.

This privacy offered Clara some freedom, and as they broached this most personal subject, she thought she ought to be honest with Gerald.

“Because I’m not sure I ever properly grieved my mother’s first husband, the man who sired me, even though it’s strange to think of him like that when I have only known one father,” she said softly, the words barely audible over the sounds of the boat. Gerald leaned forward, resting on the oars that were crossed over his legs.

“Is there a right way to feel?”

“I’m not sure. I was only a baby. When I was older and learned the truth, I remember thinking that I should be sad. I remember Mother sitting me down and telling me about him, but I never truly knew him, and I never shall.” I would not exist without him. I feel as though I owe him something, but how can I mourn a man I never knew?”

“I’m not entirely sure I can answer that, although I don’t believe you should feel guilty given that you had no choice. I can only speak to my own feelings; I felt horrid. I felt empty. I felt as though something was wrong with the world. It seemed like a mistake that should be rectified, but nobody was able. I also remember being inundated with business. The day after he died, there were so many documents for me to peruse and sign. His will was read to me, and I was made aware of all my responsibilities. It was all so sudden, and I remember feeling quite dizzy, as though the world was spinning.”

Clara nodded softly. “You should have been given more space to grieve.”

“Duty is duty,” Gerald replied. There was a hardness in his eyes now, and she wondered if she should apologize for bringing up these feelings.

“It was different with mother. When she died, the three of us grieved as a family. Well, for a time anyway. Shortly after she died, father threw himself into work. He would remain in his office from dawn until dusk. We barely saw him. In a way, he died for the first time when he lost her.”

“That must have been difficult for you,” Clara said.

“It was, but as with everything else I took it in my stride. I wanted to make sure that I did not fall prey to the same trap and withdraw from Eleanor. I could not leave her alone. That was another reason why I did not marry. I did not want her to believe that I was abandoning her for another family.”

Clara nodded as he spoke, fully understanding the depth of his emotion and his struggles. She also started to suspect something else, however. His reluctance to get married might have been tied to his father’s grief. Gerald would have seen how his father was affected, and might have wanted to avoid the same fate. The only way to make certain of this was to refuse the idea of marriage.

While she thought this, she did not verbalize her thoughts, believing that Gerald would not take kindly to such an analysis of his inner feelings.

“Then I suppose in a way it is a blessing that I was so young,” Clara said, attempting to make him feel better. But Gerald sighed heavily and shook his head.

“No, grief is never a blessing, and you were robbed of spending years with your father.”

“At least I had Alfred, in the end,” Clara said, although this didn’t seem to make up for anything. The mood had changed. The playfulness had evaporated and was replaced by something heavier. She pinched at her dress. Should she have remained quiet?

Would she have remained quiet if she knew that speaking would create this strange, warm understanding between herself and her counterfeit suitor?

Without saying anything, Gerald curled his fingers around the oars and rowed them back to shore.

They climbed out of the boat, woke Agatha, who insisted that she hadn’t been sleeping and was only protecting her eyes from the sun, and returned to the carriage. It trundled back to Alfred’s townhouse.