Falling for the Marquess - Julianne MacLean Page 0,79

of discussing it.” He crossed to the door.

“Where are you going?” Clara asked, her anger rising. Seger had not understood any of what she was saying. He didn’t believe her, he couldn’t bring himself to doubt Gillian’s sweetness, and he thought she was irrational.

Even if she was completely wrong, he could have at least been sympathetic and tried to ease her mind about it. Instead, he had called her feelings absurd. He had defended Gillian. He was walking out. He did not want to delve into her emotions. He wanted only light conversation and sex.

“I am going to get a drink and read for a while,” he replied. “Suddenly I don’t feel much like sleeping.”

Nor do I, Clara thought miserably, flopping onto the bed after the door swung shut behind him.

Clara couldn’t sleep. She needed to talk to someone, but she couldn’t go to Gillian, nor could she go to her stepmother, who adored her niece and would probably react exactly as Seger had.

Clara wished she could talk to her sister, but Sophia had gone to Bath with James to spend a few weeks with his mother and his sister, Lily, who had wished to escape the pressures of the London Season this year. Sophia had explained to Clara that Lily had gotten into some trouble a few years ago, shortly after James and Sophia had wed. Lily had run off with a Frenchman. The whole thing had been covered over, but Lily, unfortunately, had not yet gotten over it. She was uneasy around men and didn’t trust her own judgment.

She and Clara would probably have a lot to talk about.

After a moment’s deliberation, Clara decided to write a letter to Sophia. If nothing else, it would help her to express how she was feeling. She went to her desk, pulled out a clean sheet of stationery, and dipped her pen in the inkwell.

Dear Sophia,

It is the middle of the night and I cannot sleep, for I am distraught. This morning, Gillian said things about Seger that made me uncomfortable, and I can only assume she said them to hurt me, for she is secretly in love with him.

I know it sounds absurd, and perhaps I should have waited until I had something more substantial to base my beliefs upon than my womanly instincts before I mentioned it to Seger. But I wanted so desperately for us to be close. I wanted to share my feelings with him. I told him my suspicions, but it did not go well. He did not believe a word of it. He called me irrational, for he cannot believe that Gillian would ever see him as anything other than a brother figure.

Now I feel worse than ever about my marriage. I feel as if I expected too much too soon, and I have pushed Seger away. He was angry with me, and he left our bed, and I fear that if he loses interest in me (you know what kind of interest I mean) that there will be nothing to keep him from leaving me, for there is really so little depth of feeling between us to begin with.

I miss you, dear sister, and I will look forward to seeing you when you return.

Love, Clara

“Look what I found?” Quintina said to Gillian the next morning, entering her niece’s boudoir and waving a letter in her hand. “It was sitting by the front door waiting to go out with the rest of the family’s correspondence, so I decided to take a peek.”

Gillian was sitting at her dressing table, trying different hairstyles. “What is it, Auntie?”

Quintina handed it to her niece. “It’s a letter Clara wrote to her sister last night. I almost feel like celebrating.”

Gillian stared at it uncertainly. “Aunt Quintina, it is unconscionable to read someone else’s mail. How could we be so devious?”

“You can’t pretend to believe that Clara wasn’t devious when she did whatever she did to get Seger to propose. I can only imagine what tactics she employed.”

Gillian considered that for a moment, then slowly opened the letter and read it. “Oh, sweet mother of God! She told him what I said! I could brain her!”

“Now, now, it’s not such a bad thing,” Quintina replied. “She says Seger didn’t believe it and he called her irrational. Irrational, Gillian. He would have absolutely no patience at all for an irrational wife. I believe we’ve found our strategy.”

Still reeling with rage at the image of Clara telling Seger about their conversation that morning,