Page 42 of A Lady's Propitious Match
CHAPTER 19
There was a thunder in the air.
Clara could feel it the moment she stepped forth into the breakfast room.
She had been soaring in the clouds all night long, ever since she returned home from the theater, and her dreams had been flooded with images of the man who made her heart flutter, so being brought back down to earth with a thump was very unwelcome.
Her father was wearing the sort of thunderous expression which made Clara’s stomach flip flop. She actually started to tremble, especially when she caught her mother’s unimpressed thin lipped expression. Her feet barely touched the floor as she took a seat.
There was a wonderful looking spread of breakfast in front of her, but Clara’s appetite had been whipped away. She swallowed hard, darting her eyes between the both of them, waiting for someone to speak.
The anticipation was killing her. She hated every moment of this.
“What is this?” All of a sudden, Clara jumped as her mother snapped while tossing the scandal sheet her way. “I cannot believe that this is what we have woken up to.”
“What… what is it?”
Clara did not even want to pick up the paper. She was far too afraid to see it. She already had a horrible feeling that she might be featured from her very public outing the night before, but she was not ready to confirm that.
Just because this was what Christopher and she had been working towards, the consequences of it were hard to handle.
“Go on,” her mother snapped once more insistently. “Read it. The article on the left.”
With a trembling hand, Clara picked up the paper and forced her eyes to see the words. Although clearly her brain was not ready to take them in because she had to re-read a few times.
This time, as she skimmed the biting gossip column, the words on the page seemed to morph into venomous serpents, striking at the reputation she had carefully cultivated.
The Belmont Heiress and the untitled Fitzhugh.
Clara winced at the head line, her name entwined with that of Christopher in a negative way. Painting him as a social climber who only cared about her father’s title. That was such an unfair assessment of him written by someone who had clearly never spoken a word to him.
If the writer had, they would know that he was so much more than that. Christopher was a wonderful ambitious man who had a lot going for him. Just because he was the second son, did not mean a thing.
All Clara wanted to do was defend him to the world.
But she could not do that. She had to keep reading…
Lady Clara Belmont, once the epitome of propriety, now spotted in the company of a man of questionable standing. Is she trading her noble heritage for the allure of untitled affections?
Clara clutched onto her stomach as her eyes continued to read. She did not want to know anymore, but she also had to see what the whole city was reading about her.
Could this be the scandal of the season? Lady Clara Belmont, known for her grace and decorum, seemingly flouting societal norms in the pursuit of forbidden love.
The room felt suffocating as Clara continued to read, the tendrils of gossip tightening around her like a constricting vine. Her connection with Christopher, born out of genuine moments and a shared understanding, now distorted into a narrative that threatened to tarnish her standing in society.
“Clara, have you lost all sense of reason?” her mother exclaimed, fanning herself theatrically. “You are throwing away your prospects of becoming a duchess by indulging in these silly flirtations with an inappropriate gentleman, and now everyone knows it. It has been printed in the scandal sheets for all to see.”
Clara’s heart sunk. But there was no point in her trying to say a thing because her father had his opinion to let her understand as well.
“Clara, my daughter, do you comprehend the gravity of your actions?” Clara’s father’s voice thundered through the room, his anger simmering beneath the surface. “Consorting with this undeserving second son is not only reckless but a flagrant disregard for the reputation and future of our family. I was not happy with your outing to the theater, and I am even more unimpressed by the fact that so many members of the ton have seen you.”
“I did not…”
“You did not think!” her father exploded once more, interrupting her argument. Not that Clara had a lot to say to defend herself.
“Is this your way of ruining any chance to secure a strong match with Lord Simon Caldwell?” Her father’s accusation hung in the air, a heavy weight pressing upon Clara’s shoulders. The prospect of securing a favorable match had always been a part of her family’s aspirations, and now, it seemed, she was jeopardizing it all. “Because your mother and I have worked hard to secure that connection for you. I recently let you know that he was considering proposing, but now I do not think that is likely to happen at all.”
Clara’s mother, ever the dramatist, fanned herself more vigorously. “Clara, you must end things immediately with Mr. Fitzhugh. This flirtation, whatever it is, ends now! If you ever want a chance to redeem yourself in Lord Caldwell’s eyes then you must stop this before it destroys you. Do you want to end up a spinster? As the daughter of an earl, it is unheard of.”
