“She is lovely and respectable, and she…” His voice tangled suddenly as he remembered his father’s own words about finding a wife who would make him a better man. “You gave me both an ultimatum and a suggestion, my lord. Marriage to Mrs. Winter will fulfill both.”
The mention of Rushton’s ultimatum left a sour taste on Sebastian’s tongue, as if such a calculated motive somehow diminished the intensity of his feelings for Clara. Marriage to her would do more than fulfill a condition. Sebastian suspected it would somehow fulfill him, though he could hardly explain that to himself, let alone his father.
“You have recommended several young women who would serve as a suitable match for me, sir,” he said, his voice sharpening with determination. “Yet you have neglected to take into account my view on the matter. You now have my response to your decree. I choose to marry Clara Winter.”
They looked at each other, Rushton’s dark eyes penetrating the dusky light. A flood of questions and answers seemed to fill the space between them, reminders of the countess, of all their family had lost and still sought to regain. Sebastian steeled himself for a battle, prepared to defend his decision with every ounce of his being, but then…rather to his shock…his father stepped back.
“Very well,” Rushton said. “If Mrs. Winter is your choice, then I trust you to fulfill your obligations with the honor that befits the son of an earl.” He turned toward the door leading back to the drawing room. “I hope she will, at the very least, remind you of what nobler qualities you can possess. Only by improving oneself can a man sustain a good and rewarding marriage.”
Clara looked at the clock. Nearly four. Mrs. Fox’s voice came from the parlor, where she was explaining the history of Uncle Granville’s inventions to a visitor. Granville was back in the workshop continuing his task of copying the intricate details of the cipher machine plans.
Without informing either of them of her intentions, Clara pulled on her cloak and left the museum. As she hurried toward the cab stand, the clatter of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels neared.
Clara stepped aside as a black carriage came to a halt beside her. The door opened, and Sebastian descended with a sense of purpose, as if he’d come directly for her.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
Trepidation tightened Clara’s throat. She had not had an opportunity to speak to him in private since Lady Rossmore’s charity ball two nights before. It was for the best, she tried to tell herself, as after her confession she feared that any conversation might result in his withdrawal from their agreement.
“I’ve…I’ve a few errands to run,” she explained. “Why are you here?”
“I’ve come to tell you my father has given his assent for our marriage,” Sebastian said. “Had he not done so, I still would have married you, but his approval will sanctify the union for the benefit of society.”
“Very…very well.” Lord Rushton’s approval was, Clara knew, the last element needed for the marriage to proceed smoothly. Now they needed only to speak their vows.
“I’ll accompany you on your errands, then.” Sebastian stepped aside to allow her to precede him to the curb. “We’ll take my carriage.”
“That’s not necessary. There’s a cab stand at the end of the street.”
Sebastian frowned. “It’s growing dark. Where have you to go?”
Clara stared at the looming interior of the carriage. She’d already told him everything. And he had not retreated. She felt her resolve to keep him at a distance slipping away like raindrops on a windowpane. Not even to herself she could deny her gratitude for his presence, his insistence on remaining by her side.
“My father stays in Belgravia when he is in London,” she said. “I…I sometimes wait outside his town house to see if he’s brought Andrew with him. Thus far, I haven’t caught a glimpse of him.”
His left hand tightened on her arm. “What is the address?”
Swimming suddenly in the need for companionship so she would not have to face the predictable disappointment alone, Clara recited the street number and allowed Sebastian to hand her into the carriage. His deep voice rumbled as he relayed the address to his driver, then climbed in after her. Dusky light slanted across his strong features, his dark eyes glittering as he watched her from the opposite seat.
Clara folded her arms around herself and swallowed hard, her blood pulsing with the troubled urge to close