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“We should go too. It isn’t proper for us to be alone for too long,” Clara whispered. Was that pain he sensed in her voice, or was it regret? Had he just insulted her? If he had, then an apology did not seem to suffice. The right words could not be conjured, and so they returned to the party in silence.

Julian clapped in their direction, a congratulations for making it through the maze. Eleanor approached, giggling with her friends.

“Do you mind if we try the maze?” Eleanor asked.

“Of course not,” Gerald replied.

“Do you have any advice?”

He glanced at Clara.

“Make the right choice.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Have things become so routine already?” Clara asked as she noticed a butler setting out an empty vase, ready to be filled with flowers.

“It is Monday,” Mary replied. Gerald clung to his routine like a monk. Every Monday he called by with flowers, usually a different type every time. Last week he brought an exotic bunch that he’d sourced from Julian. They were always pretty, always thoughtful, and yet Clara could not enjoy them properly

Every gesture had to be doubted. Every word had to be studied. Every look was suspicious.

Their private moments led her to believe that he might feel something more.

In the maze, they had almost lost control of themselves. One of her steadfast rules prevented kissing, and yet they had been standing close. His eyes had closed, his lips puckered, and Clara had not been inclined to turn away. With his hand on her cheek, she felt warm and giddy, and there was a curious part of her that wanted to know what it felt like to kiss him, to be held in his arms as a lover and feel the soaring romance that Aunt Lydia had always vaunted in the books she read.

But the interruption had killed the moment, and for the best.

Clara pressed her fingers against her temples, unsure why her resolve crumbled so easily when Gerald was present. The situation had been laid bare for her. There was no need to get confused, and yet here she was, wrestling with her emotions, wondering if her heart was still her own, or if it now belonged to him.

The sooner Eleanor began courting and enough time passed for the ton to lose interest in the returning Duke, the better. She wanted to be done with this. She wanted to be done with him. Clara was tempted to pick up the vase and throw it against the wall, watching it smash into a thousand pieces. Would he still bring flowers if there was nothing to hold them? Would he still try to kiss a woman who was no longer standing there?

Clara’s heart froze as Gerald’s carriage pulled up outside the house, and the door was opened. She rose stiffly as he entered the room, but became intrigued as he held a wicker basket instead of his usual bouquet. The lid bumped, as though something inside was moving around.

“What is in the box. Gerald?” Alfred said, peering over his shoulder.

“A gift. I know you are accustomed to receiving flowers, Clara, but I came upon something on one of my tenants’ farms that I thought might bring joy to your life, and to the children as well.” Gerald bent down and placed the box on the floor. Before he could open the lid himself, it flew open, and the contents burst out. Alfred cried out, startled, while Clara smiled.

It was a puppy.

A shaggy, grey puppy with wide, eager eyes and a pink tongue that lolled out. He darted about the room, seeking to explore everything, and stopped before Clara.

“Why, hello,” she said, bending down to pet the dog. It licked her hand and cocked its head, as though it was returning her kind words. “What’s its name?”

“I thought the children might like to name it,” Gerald said, “If you think they would appreciate the animal.”

“Oh, they’ll appreciate it alright. Although I shall not allow them to name it Clara,” she said, lifting her gaze to glance at him. He grinned. Clara’s fingers disappeared in the soft fur as she moved her fingers around the dog’s head, learning that it particularly liked being stroked beneath its chin.

“You say you found it on one of your farms?”

“Yes, it was a muddy little thing. The farmer believes that his dog must have had a litter in secret. He had no desire to keep this one, but said it must be a survivor. Shall we take it to the children now?” he asked.

In truth, Clara wanted to keep her distance from Gerald because it was becoming dangerous to be close to him. However, she was not selfish enough to deny the children this pleasure, nor to prevent Gerald from receiving the gratitude he deserved for making this gesture.

He might have broken a promise, but this was an earnest, good-natured gesture and she could not find any reason to decline.

They arrived at the orphanage. Agatha was already there, watching the children. Clara and Gerald climbed out of the wagon. Gerald intended to repeat the announcement, and so the dog was in the box again. However, this time the dog was too excited to remain hidden. Clara had just invited the children to gather round when Gerald opened his mouth, but before he uttered a word, the dog leaped out and stared at the children.

Sophia recoiled, but the others were gleeful.