Falling for the Marquess - Julianne MacLean Page 0,54

entered. She strode all the way in and stopped before him with her hands clasped in front of her as if she were nervous.

“Yes, Quintina, what is it?”

She hesitated a moment. “I believe, Seger, that I...I would like to invite your fiancée as well as the Duke and Duchess of Wentworth to dine with us one evening next week.”

Seger leaned back in his chair and stared. “Pardon me?”

“You heard me the first time. You’re just making me repeat it to punish me further.”

“None of this is intended to punish you,” he replied. “I want to marry Clara Wilson because she delights me. It’s as simple as that.”

She nodded quickly, almost as if she needed to hush him, as if she did not wish to hear any more explanations of that nature. “Either way, if we are going to be related, we must come to know these people.”

He supposed it didn’t hurt that Clara’s sister was a duchess. American or not, a duchess was a duchess. That was likely what was behind this.

Well, he’d take it. “Magnificent. Send the invitation first thing in the morning.”

“Very well.” She turned to leave but stopped at the door. “And Seger. Congratulations.”

He gazed with surprise at his stepmother, feeling uneasy at her remark, for he knew it was taking every bit of willpower she possessed just to speak the words.

“Thank you,” he replied, then returned to his correspondence.

Quintina walked out of her stepson’s study and closed the door behind her. She met Gillian in the hall and stopped abruptly. The girl’s eyes were red and puffy. She was clutching a handkerchief.

Quintina felt her heart throb painfully in her chest.

“Well?” Gillian asked in a shaky voice.

Quintina put her arm around her distraught niece and led her toward her boudoir. “Don’t worry, my dear. Dry your eyes. I will handle this. I have an English acquaintance—a woman currently abroad in America. She will be a useful connection in New York. Everything will work out just fine. You’ll see. Now let us go and fix your hair. From now on, you must always look your best. Come, we will talk about what you will need to do next.”

Clara entered Rawdon House with James and Sophia, and handed her cloak over to the butler. She looked up at the crystal chandelier over her head in the entryway, and the numerous, large family portraits that lined the wall up the wide, carpeted staircase. It was difficult to believe this was going to be her home one day, when she became Seger’s wife.

Never in her life had she imagined such a future for herself, certainly not when she was a child living in Wisconsin, where stories of princes and dukes and duchesses with coronets on their heads were just fairy tales.

Then, after what had occurred two years ago just after Sophia had married James, Clara believed her future was doomed forever. She never expected to marry a man she adored. She’d expected to have very little choice in the matter and consider herself lucky if anyone was willing to take her on. Or she had expected not to marry at all.

But two years had passed, and that particular time in her life seemed like a distant memory. She could barely even picture Gordon’s face in her mind. Thank goodness she had been able to move on.

Clara walked with Sophia and James upstairs to the drawing room. She continued to gaze at the portraits on the second floor. Everyone was very grand. Her belly quivered suddenly at the daunting notion of becoming part of a family such as this.

She followed the butler toward the double doors of the drawing room and tried not to feel intimidated. Instead, she focused on the simple fact that in the very near future, she would share a bed with Seger and it would all be perfectly respectable.

That was the best part in all this. She would not need to worry about being ruined. In fact, it would be her duty to let him “ruin” her. She could hardly wait.

The butler showed them into the drawing room where Lady Rawdon stood by the window, and her niece, who Clara remembered from the assembly, sat by the fireplace. She stood, however, when they all walked in.

“Your Grace,” Lady Rawdon said, turning toward James with a warm smile. She approached and greeted each of them, then invited them to sit down.

The woman’s gracious manner and her amiable welcome caused a whole slew of Clara’s apprehensions to fall away. She