Page 128 of The Seaside Homecoming
Claire gasped at the injustice. Not only had this man escaped any consequences for his betrayal, but now he would benefit financially. Why would Aunt Mercer do that? She’d thought the woman had softened toward her near the end, but apparently she had remained determined to teach Claire a lesson.
Mistaking her gasp as a sign she was impressed, he nodded and went on. “A sizable sum, all told. Enough to pay off my debts and then some.”
“Congratulations,” Claire said dryly, not bothering to disguise the asperity in her tone. “Why tell me?”
“I inherit only under one condition.”
She stared up at him, stomach sinking. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes. That I marry you, publicly, legally, properly. If not, I get nothing, and it all goes to some charity or other.”
“So that’s why you’re here.”
“Yes. As I said, our financial situation was the only reason I changed my mind before. But now with this boon, I can follow through on what I’d hoped to do all along.”
When she merely stared at him, stupefied, he pulled a folded letter from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Here. Read it for yourself.”
Claire’s mind was spinning too quickly to focus enough to read the whole thing. But a few lines leapt out at her.
These are my terms: Marry Claire Summers. Make a respectable woman of her. Restore her good name and that of her family.
Claire stood there, wanting to throw the letter in his face. To flounce away. To refuse with bold, certain finality.
Instead, she remained still and silent, the words before her fading from sight. She saw not the letter, not the man, but rather a woman’s face.
Mamma’s.
A part of her was tempted. Not because she still loved this man or even liked him, but because marriage to him would go a long way to removing the cloud of shame she’d hung over herself and her family. It would “make a respectable woman of her,” as Aunt Mercer had written.
Here at last was a way to make amends to her family, and perhaps finally be forgiven and accepted by her mother.
His quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. “I can see this comes as a shock to you, so I shall give you some time to think it over. I will stay on a few days so we may become reacquainted before you decide.”
He turned to go, but she said, “Wait.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “If you have not gathered, Mr. Hammond is my business partner. He does not know about ...why I went to Scotland, and I would prefer to keep that humiliation private.”
“Of course.”
“Not ‘of course,’” she hissed. “For I gather the Cravens know or at least suspect.”
“Sorry. Craven never could keep his mouth shut. Don’t worry, I can.”
After that, Claire made her escape. She put on her cloak, called in at the morning room door that she was going for a walk, and left before Mr. Hammond or Sonali could respond or ask any questions. She hurried from the house, eager to put distance between them.
Again she sought the solace of the seaside, walking along the shore, breathing deeply of the fresh air, and trying to grasp onto a calm she did not feel.
30
Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.
—Benjamin Franklin
The next day, Claire sat working at the desk in the morning room when Lord Bertram entered, looking perfectly groomed and without a wrinkle on his fresh suit of clothes, carefully packed and pressed by a dutiful valet.
“Good afternoon, Miss Summers.”
“Lord Bertram.”
