the room, “you must realize the mistake your sister is making. The Duke of Guysborough proposed first. He is the wiser choice. He outranks the marquess, not to mention the fact that he is respected by society, where the marquess is not even invited into it.”
James strode to the mantel. “May I remind you of the old adage, not to judge a book by its cover?”
“How else can one judge it,” she asked, “when appearances are everything?”
“Not to me,” Clara said.
“Or me,” Sophia added, gazing up at her husband, who smiled down at her.
“You have lost your senses, all of you,” Mrs. Gunther said. “Your Grace, you must do something. The ladies are smitten simply because the marquess is a handsome man. They must be made to understand.”
Hands behind his back, James moved to stand behind his wife’s chair. He rested a hand on her shoulder. “I believe, madam, the only one here who must be made to understand anything is you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I mean no offense, Mrs. Gunther, but you are not in full possession of the facts, and it is time someone enlightened you. The duke acted in a most ungentlemanly manner and he threatened to destroy Clara’s reputation if she did not accept his proposal. There. Now may we dispense with the arguments?”
Mrs. Gunther stared blankly at Clara and Sophia. “Is this true?”
“Yes,” Sophia replied. “He knew about Clara attending the wrong ball that first night. He threatened to use it against her.”
“But did he actually threaten it,” Mrs. Gunther asked, “or merely suggest that she would be better off avoiding the possibility that such a thing might get out?”
“It was a clear threat,” Clara said firmly.
Mrs. Gunther’s voice took on a desperate tone. “But he is the Duke of Guysborough. You should not have crossed him by refusing him, Clara.”
Everyone, including James, gaped at Mrs. Gunther. “Are you saying I should have accepted his proposal, regardless of his behavior?”
“His behavior? He is not the one with a scandalous past, Clara.”
Her meaning was the same. Make a mistake and pay the price. For the rest of your life.
James held up a hand. “I believe this discussion is over. Clara has made up her mind.”
“But Your Grace, the duke is.... Well, he’s a duke.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
She shifted in her chair. “Meaning Clara would be a duchess. Imagine, two American duchesses, and sisters! It is too good an opportunity to—”
James narrowed his gaze at her. “You would have Clara marry a man who threatened to publicly destroy her?”
“No one would ever have to know about that.”
“But I would know!” Clara practically shouted. “I wish to be happy, Mrs. Gunther, and I would not be happy with the Duke of Guysborough.”
The older woman’s cheeks flushed with smug condescension. “Why not? Because he is not as handsome as the marquess? Mark my words, Clara, a handsome face will not keep you happy when your husband is cavorting with other women right under your nose.”
Clara bristled.
James held up a hand again to hush everyone. He turned toward Mrs. Gunther. “I believe, madam, that your duty to my sister-in-law has been fulfilled.”
Though she spoke to James, Mrs. Gunther turned her admonishing gaze toward Clara. “She is making a grave mistake, Your Grace.”
“I do thank you for your attendance to her,” he added, “but perhaps it is time you returned to America.”
Mrs. Gunther rose from her chair and smoothed her hands over her skirt. “If you will excuse me, I am suddenly in need of a rest. I will be in my boudoir.” She walked out with her nose pushed high in the air.
Clara sat in silence staring after her chaperone and felt a great weight lift from her shoulders.
After Seger broke the news of his engagement to his stepmother, he retired to his study and realized that the expression on her face had been the same as it had been eight years ago when he’d told her he intended to marry a merchant’s penniless daughter.
Only Clara wasn’t penniless. She was, however, American and not “one of them.”
After Quintina realized that she would not be able to change Seger’s mind, she made a point of mentioning that at least with an American bride, their vulgar in-laws would remain on the other side of the Atlantic and would not be dropping by for tea.
Seger sat down at his desk and realized with some chagrin that he was experiencing a slightly perverse pleasure from her exasperation.
A knock sounded at his door just then. “Come in.”
Quintina