Sebastian’s heart thumped against his ribs. “He had no evidence that you were.”
“No. He also had no evidence that I wasn’t.” Clara dashed a hand across her eyes. “We found Andrew at the house when we returned. He’d ridden back on his own. He said he hadn’t seen what happened to Richard. Everything was a blur after that. The constable came. We had funeral arrangements. And a week after we discovered Richard had left custody of Andrew to my father, he threatened to send me away. That was when I left Manley Park. To this day, my father remains certain that I had a hand in Richard’s death.”
An ugly question rose to Sebastian’s mind. He didn’t want to ask, but for the sake of all that his family had endured, he had to. “Did he make a public accusation?”
“No.” Clara expelled her breath on a heavy sigh. “He knew there was no evidence, but he wanted to separate me from my son. And so he has.”
Sebastian grasped his right hand with his left, curling his fingers into a fist. Anger and tension knotted the back of his neck.
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“Because I was afraid you wouldn’t help me.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t marry me.”
“I’ve already agreed to your proposal,” Sebastian said. “More than that, I want to marry you.”
Clara’s lips parted, drawing his attention to the full line of her mouth. Heat twisted through his lower body, the urge to kiss her seizing his blood even as his mind wrestled with his blunt admission.
He wanted to help her beyond conducting the transfer of Wakefield House. He just had no idea what else he could do. Blackness swamped his chest, threatened to pull him under. He knew the feeling well and hated it as much now as he had the night he’d stood in front of the Weimar musicians and Franz Liszt to resign his position.
He lowered his head to her left ear, the one that was lost in silence.
“I will find a way,” he whispered, the promise made to himself and not her. Not yet. Only when he could confirm his ability to carry it through would she hear his vow.
Clara turned her head, as if she sought to remind him he spoke into her damaged ear. The movement brought their mouths perilously close together, so close her breath swept across his lips.
“I’m scared,” she confessed.
“So am I.” He understood it, her fear about something over which she both blamed herself and yet had no control. He understood it because the same fear seethed beneath his own skin.
“You?” She gave a husky laugh. “What are you afraid of?”
He pressed his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes and curled her hand around the lapel of his coat. The smells of machine oil and perfume clung to her, but beneath it he detected the scent of oranges and spice, a strangely tropical aroma that sweetened his bitter thoughts.
Her lips brushed his. So soft. So gentle. Her fear seemed to dissolve into the tenderness of her sigh, the unwinding of tension from her body. Sebastian laced his hands around her waist, drew her closer, deepened the kiss until she arched like a supple willow against him.
The icy thoughts thawed, melting into the heat of their kiss, the press of their bodies. Warmth filled Sebastian, twined through his blood. A vital energy surged from her into him, a spark of electricity that ignited a fresh resolve.
Clara placed her hand flat on his chest and eased herself away from him. Urgency threaded her voice. “I must find out what happened to Andrew, Sebastian. I will not lose sight of him.”
“Nor will I.”
They stared at each other, the bloom of night between them, the sounds of the ball filtering through the open doorways of the building. In that moment, a strange, reckless impulse seized Sebastian hard—the urge to grab his world and force it upright, to find his footing again, to repair everything that had been broken.
For him. And now for her.
“Bastian.” Rushton’s voice carried through the night air.
Clara stepped away, then turned and fled back into the building. Sebastian took a breath and faced his father, whose keen gaze followed Clara.
“You’ve a particular interest in Mrs. Winter,” Rushton remarked.
“I ought to,” Sebastian said. “I’m going to marry her.”
Grim satisfaction filled him as his father blinked with evident surprise. Sebastian’s pronouncement hung in the air. Rushton cleared his throat.