how her father was treating Andrew or even how her son fared.
“Uncle Granville.”
“Yes?”
Clara detached her hand from the crate and rubbed the bleeding wound in her palm. “I must find the plans.” She waved a hand to encompass the numerous crates and boxes cluttering the room. “I don’t know that I’ll even recognize them if I find them, but I have to look.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll help.” Granville straightened and removed his glasses, polishing the lenses on his shirt. “But, Clara, if Monsieur Dupree did send me the plans, he had a reason for doing so. I’m not certain handing them over to Sebastian Hall is a wise idea.”
“What if it helps me get Andrew back?”
“How can Mr. Hall help you get Andrew back?”
“I don’t know that he can.” Clara bit her bottom lip, unsettled by the confession. As simple as the arrangement sounded, there was no guarantee her father would actually accept Wakefield House in exchange for Andrew.
On the other hand, Fairfax had been fighting hard to get his hands on the property. And Clara had nothing left to lose.
“Go to your father first,” Granville urged, his blue eyes filled with concern. “Ask him to agree to the bargain. You needn’t take such drastic measures yet.”
“He won’t see me,” Clara said. “Even if he did, what if he took exception to Sebastian’s involvement? What if he tried to stop it?” She shook her head. “No. When I approach my father again, I must be able to offer him Wakefield House. If I have no leverage, he’ll think nothing of shutting me out again.”
She opened another box, a fresh resolve spurring her forward. She tried not to think that if she found the plans, she would have what Sebastian wanted and could then make her proposal.
For marriage.
Her heart stumbled as a wave of heat and trepidation swept through her. Even if it was for practical ends as her union with Richard had been, Clara could not imagine herself wedded to a man like Sebastian Hall with his rough, restless energy and coiled secrets. With his charm, which warmed her blood, and his devilish smile, which made her melt.
But it didn’t matter what she could imagine, did it? The swirls of heat and color evoked by Sebastian’s presence alone didn’t matter. Only one thing mattered.
“I must find the plans,” she repeated, half to herself and half to Granville. “And when I do, I’ll marry Sebastian Hall and get my son back.”
But first she had to convince Sebastian. Now that she knew what he wanted, she could approach him with a proposal from which they each benefited. She just had to pray he wanted the plans badly enough not to reject her outlandish request.
Several hours later, after Granville had gone to bed, Clara conceded defeat for the day. Weariness clenched her muscles tight as she dampened all the hearths and ensured the candles were extinguished, except for the one she used to light the path to her bedchamber. She placed the flickering candle on her bedside table, then washed in cold water and changed into a shift.
After combing the tangles from her hair, she climbed into bed. Her arms ached from prying open crates and boxes, and her hands were sore and dry. Even as exhaustion claimed her body, her mind twisted around and around the idea of marriage to Sebastian Hall and all the implications buried within.
At the heart of it lay the bright, polished jewel of her son, a treasure long concealed by a veil of darkness. And after struggling for so many months to futile ends, Clara feared to hope that this time might be different. Perhaps not even Sebastian could rip away the obstacles keeping her from Andrew, but she held fast to her instinctive trust in him.
She pressed a hand to her chest and felt the rhythm of her heartbeat. Even as her mind sought to convince her that marriage to Sebastian Hall would be no different from her union with Richard in its practicality, Clara’s heart vehemently protested such a comparison.
On the surface, perhaps, it would be a pragmatic arrangement, one that might lead to the fulfillment of her deepest, most powerful wish, but beneath the veneer of convenience, such a marriage would be laced with the restless, unnerving sensations Sebastian aroused in her with every look, every touch.
Marriage to him would be complex, dangerous. She would be required to make choices—present herself as an exemplary but complacent wife or attempt to peel back all his