Falling for the Marquess - Julianne MacLean Page 0,12
uninterested in her?
Sophia approached with cheeks flushed from a dance with her husband. “It’s almost time to leave, Clara. Have you danced enough?”
“Enough? Most definitely. I’m exhausted.” Yet, the thought of leaving brought disappointment, for another night had passed and her dream lover had not materialized.
“Shall we go then?” Sophia asked.
Clara closed her fan, gathered up her skirts, and followed her sister out.
As they drove home in the dark carriage, Clara continued to ponder the situation. She could not continue this way, dreaming about a mysterious stranger, while opportunities with perfectly respectable gentlemen passed her by.
Later that night, not long after she’d changed into her nightgown, Clara padded down the corridor in bare feet and knocked on Sophia’s door.
Sophia opened it and raised her index finger to her lips. “Shhh.” She held her second son, John, in her arms. Carefully, she handed the sleeping infant to his nurse, Louise, who headed for the door to take him upstairs to the nursery. Clara closed the door behind Louise.
“I’m surprised you’re still awake,” Sophia said.
Clara sat on the bed, not altogether certain how to explain her feelings to her sister, who already had enough on her plate with two babies barely ten months apart. All Clara knew was that she needed to do something to get over this foolish infatuation because it wasn’t going away on its own.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Clara said, “that I’ve not been remotely interested in any of the gentlemen I’ve met this week, and I’ve met quite a few very nice men.”
Sophia regarded her intently. “Is it because you’re still thinking about the man you met at Livingston House?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“To me, yes. You gaze off into space most of the time, and if you’re not doing that, you’re surveying ballrooms, searching with your eyes.”
Clara tried to explain herself. “I want to find a good husband, I truly do, but how can I, when I can’t get a certain fantasy man out of my mind? None can compare to my memory of him.” Clara cupped her forehead in her hand. “I know it’s ridiculous, because I’m sure that everything I believe about him is exactly that—a fantasy. Let’s be honest. He was present at one of these improper balls, and therefore is probably one of two things: a rake who carries on affairs with married women, or a husband who cheats on his wife. Neither of those possibilities are attractive to me. I want to marry a decent man who will be faithful to me and be a good father, and yet....”
“You can’t stop thinking about him.”
Clara sighed. “Something needs to be done. I need to get him out of my head.”
“How can I help?”
Standing and crossing the room, Clara glanced down at the stack of cards on Sophia’s desk. “I don’t suppose you’ve received any more invitations to a you know what.”
Sophia rose from the bed and joined Clara at her desk. “I know very well what, and I thought you said those balls were appalling.”
“Well, they are, at least for married people who go there to be unfaithful.”
Sophia slowly shook her head. “Clara. You cannot take a risk like that. What would Mrs. Gunther say?”
“Would she even have to know?”
Sophia gaped at her.
“You could be my chaperone,” Clara continued. “We could go for just an hour or so.”
“But I couldn’t possibly go to a Cakras Ball without James,” Sophia replied. “I wouldn’t want to be seen there without him. People might presume we’ve grown bored with each other, which we have not.”
“We could wear wigs and put on English accents,” Clara suggested. “No one would recognize us.”
“Have you lost your mind? Even if we did manage to attend without anyone knowing, what are the odds that you would see this particular man again? He might not even be there.”
“Can’t we at least try? I must know who he is—have a name at least. What if he’s the man I’m destined to marry?”
“Then you will meet him in a respectable situation.”
“How can you be sure? Maybe he only goes to the Cakras Balls.”
Sophia sighed with frustration. “What about everything you just said, about him being either a rake or a philanderer?”
Clara waved a finger at her older sister. “You told me James used to go to those balls when he was younger, and now look at him. He’s a perfect husband, Sophia. What if you had dismissed him because you’d discovered he attended those parties?”
Sophia was quiet for a moment. “I suppose you have me