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When their carriage pulled away from Clemont Hall, Clara had mixed feelings. In some ways it was a relief to put this matter behind her, but in another aspect she felt sadness tugging at her heart. There were a few moments where things between her and Gerald could have been different, but the chance slipped away.

Some things just weren’t meant to be. Some things should not be hoped for.

At least she no longer had to pretend.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Clara spent all day at the orphanage before she returned home.

“I heard the benefit went wonderfully. You should be so proud,” Alfred said, hugging her tightly and kissing her on both cheeks. Clara gave him a wan smile. Beatrice walked up to her.

“May I come and help you at the orphanage?” she asked.

Clara was a little taken aback by the suggestion, as Beatrice hadn’t shown any inclination to help at the orphanage before.

“Of course, although I must say I’m surprised. I thought you believed that type of thing was beneath you.”

“Well, it seems to have its advantages. After all, if you can meet a Duke through your work, then perhaps it will afford me the opportunity to meet someone of a similar standing, when I am old enough. There were so many important people at the benefit last night. It would be an honor to become acquainted with them.”

Clara sighed. “Beatrice, if you wish to help people, then you should do so because it is the right thing to do, not because you wish to get something else out of it. When you begin to understand that, you can come and help me,” she said briskly, in no mood to entertain her sister’s worst impulses.

Beatrice was left stunned and immediately appealed to her father, but Clara wasn’t interested in such a petty discussion. She ascended the stairs and, when in the privacy of her room, fell upon the bed and allowed her emotions to pour out. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she used her dress to mop them up.

There was a soft knock at the door.

“Clara, may I enter? Beatrice says you were quite short with her,” Mary said.

Clara rolled her eyes. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and rubbed her cheeks.

“Beatrice always takes offence even when none is given. She could start an argument in an empty room,” Clara said. Mary took this as an invitation and entered the room, closing the door behind her. She came to sit on the end of the bed.

“You’ve been crying,” she said, reaching for Clara’s hand, immediately noticing her daughter’s sorrow.

“It’s nothing.”

“What’s happened? I know that Beatrice vexes you sometimes, but she will mature soon enough.”

“It’s not about Beatrice,” Clara said. “It’s about Gerald.”

“Oh, I see. Has he changed his mind?” Mary asked. Clara realized that she was going to have to be honest with her mother now.

“No. In actual fact, he has remained true to his intentions. There is something I must confess to you, mother. I hope you and father will not be too angry with me. The truth is that Gerald and I never had any intention to marry. It was a ruse, designed to distract people in the Ton from him. His return as Eleanor’s escort caused a stir and he was overshadowing her debut season. He believed that if he were seen to be courting someone, Eleanor would be able to enjoy her season fully. In return, he ensured that he would help the orphanage,” Clara said, her voice wobbling towards the end.

“I see,” Mary replied, taking it all in. “That sounds rather complicated.

“It was. I never intended to deceive you and Father. I know you were both excited that I was being courted, but I hope you see now that it shall never happen.”

Clara put her hand upon her head and breathed deeply, wishing to stem the flow of tears that threatened to fall. Mary remained silent for a few moments before addressing the situation directly.

“You have fallen in love with him, haven’t you?”

“No,” Clara replied immediately. She lifted her head and gave Mary a sharp glare, but the moistness of her eyes belied her true feelings.

“Clara, you are my daughter. I know you are a young woman now, but I still know you better than you know yourself. If you do not love him, then why are you so upset that it’s over?”

Clara searched for an answer, but she could not present one. Instead, she let her head drop and sighed. Mary sidled closer, putting her arm around Clara and drawing her in for a maternal hug.

“These things are never easy, Clara. I’m sorry you’ve been hurt. What happened?”