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“Even if it does, I do not need to welcome it. I am happy with my life as it stands. The work at the orphanage is rewarding, and I enjoy making commissions of my artwork. Perhaps my efforts at the benefit will draw more attention to my work, and I might be able to increase my renown.”

Agatha smiled softly. “You sound just like your Aunt Charlotte did when she was younger. I thought she would have proven to you that you can have it all.”

Clara paused, but decided not to tell Agatha her true thoughts. She served a purpose for Gerald. Once that purpose was fulfilled, he would have no further use for her, and then things would go back to the way they were originally. What was the sense in dreaming about anything different?

“Aunt Charlotte is a great inspiration, but she was fortunate to find Uncle Nathaniel. Gerald is different. He-”

“Is yours.”

“He is certainly not mine.” Clara shook her head vehemently. “Nor shall he be. I understand you wish for everyone to find their happy ending, Grandmother, especially because yours was so long in the making, but being happy does not require marriage. There are many fulfilling elements in my life, and I do not wish for them to change.”

The smile faded from Agatha’s expression. She drew her hands back to her lap, her usual carefree smile softening.. “You may not wish for that, but they will change. It is the fundamental nature of the world. People come in and out of our lives, the years turn like a wheel, and seasons change. There is a time for everything, Clara, and you will only grow frustrated and bitter if you do not embrace the change.” She smiled. “Many people ask me how I can stay so alert at my age, and it is for this reason. Most people who reach my age rail against the world. They try so fiercely to keep things a certain way, but they are doomed to failure. It’s better to simply accept this and move with the tides. You may not believe you seek love, but there is no harm in entertaining the notion, especially when a man like Gerald enters the scene. If you do not seize this opportunity, then you are liable to regret it, and that is the biggest sin of all.”

“Thank you for your wise words, Grandmother, but I assure you there has been a misunderstanding. There is no affection between Gerald and myself. It is simply a practical arrangement. I am only doing what’s best for the orphanage.”

Agatha reached across and grabbed Clara’s hand with surprising strength. She looked directly into Clara’s eyes, and for a moment Clara looked past the rheumy mist and saw the bright, focused stare of the young woman Agatha had once been.

“You must do what’s best for yourself, Clara,” Agatha emphasized these words so much that she started to shake. Clara nodded, quite shaken by the intensity with which Agatha spoke, and turned her attention back to the flowers.

Later that night, when in her own bed, Clara reflected on the conversation she shared with Agatha, as well as the feelings that were stirred up by Gerald’s presence. It was difficult to even be in the same room as him now, such was the strength of their attraction. She may not have been able to deny it to herself, so she tried her best to deny it to other people.

“This will pass,” she whispered, closing her eyes and embracing the comforting darkness. The season would end and she would be free once more.

Only now the thought of freedom was not as enticing as it had been. Would it truly have been so bad to be the Duchess of Clemont? The estate was vast, and the gardens were beautiful. Eleanor was a charming woman whom Clara was glad to call a friend.

It almost seemed wrong that she shouldn’t want to marry him. Wouldn’t any sane woman want to be his Duchess? Clara pinched the bridge of her nose as she wondered if there was something wrong with her, and then turned, wrestling with her emotions in the hope of subduing them so that she could fall asleep.

Chapter Nineteen

“Are you certain you wouldn’t like to go and play with them?” Clara asked.

Clara was sitting at the window while Sophia drew. Clara watched her intently, showering her with regular praise, sprinkling a few pieces of advice among them, not wanting to make it feel as though she was criticizing.

Sophia was currently drawing the scene before them. Emily, Teddy, Oliver, Duke, and Gerald were playing outside. Duke raced around, attempting to catch the ball thrown by the others. When he did, he didn’t seem to know what to do with it and simply dropped it on the floor. Then he waited expectantly, eager for the game to begin again.

The infectious laughter was so loud it drifted into the house.

Sophia shook her head and continued drawing. Clara patted Sophia’s shoulder and brushed her hair away from her face. Sophia tilted her head from left to right as her hand swept across the page.

A profound sense of melancholy filled Clara’s heart, thinking that one day neither Sophia nor the other children would be here. Like seeds on the wind, they would be scattered afar, and all Clara could do was pray that they would find happier endings than their beginnings suggested.

Although the scene in front of them was a fluid thing, shifting and changing with every moment, Clara’s eyes were drawn to the one that Sophia was drawing. Duke looked as though he was in flight, leaping in the air, head twisting back as he tried to catch the ball that sailed over his head.

Emily was leaning forward, her hand still in a throwing motion. Teddy was beside Duke, offering encouragement. Oliver threw his hands in the air and jumped just like Duke, ready to catch it if Duke missed. Gerald had his hands on his hips, a look of adoration on his face as though he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He had become just as enamored with the children as they were with him. It warmed her heart to see such a bond developed, although this sweet feeling was marred by a hint of melancholy as she knew it too would come to an end. Would the children be devastated? It was likely. Would she be devastated? Completely, for it broke her heart to know that life would bring these children more suffering, and there was only so much she could do to protect them.

Would Gerald be devastated? Now there was the question. Clara wasn’t entirely sure. He was a practical man, and although she had no doubt that his feelings for the children were genuine, he might have been the type to lock the emotions away and leave them be, a talent in which many men excelled.

Her father being one of them. Her first father, that was.

Mary had never told Clara too much about the man, but one thing she had mentioned was that he kept his emotions very close to his chest, so close in fact that she could never be sure if he possessed them at all. Clara sometimes wondered if, as his daughter, she was capable of the same thing.

She had never dared to try, fearing that if she suppressed one emotion then she would suppress them all, and that did not sit right with her. Life was about caring, even if that did make it difficult in the end.

A knock at the door disturbed Clara from her thoughts. She stroked Sophia’s head and went to see who was calling. It happened to be Lord Ashcombe, a man of sixty-two years with a warm smile and ears that stuck out from his head at an absurdly horizontal angle.

“Miss Sterling. I hope that you don’t mind me dropping by without notice. I thought that with the benefit swiftly approaching I should peruse the orphanage’s accounts, just so that I am aware of the particulars,” he said.