Page 19 of A Christmas Miracle for the Frosty Marquess
“What if respect and understanding are not enough?” he asked. “What if I cannot offer her the life she deserves?”
Thomas leaned forward, his gaze steady and reassuring.
“Give it time,” he said. “Love is not always the way it reads in storybooks. Sometimes, it is a gradual process, forged by time and patience and sharing a life. You are a good man, Julian. And Clara seems to be quite a young lady.”
Julian’s gaze shifted to the glistening chandelier overhead, as if searching for answers among the beams of light.
“It’s the unknown, Thomas,” he said. “The vast sea of it that terrifies me. The unanswered questions and the doubts and the future that I can’t even begin to imagine plague me.”
Thomas chuckled, placing a comforting hand on Julian’s shoulder.
“Welcome to what I have to come to understand is every man’s dilemma before marriage, arranged or not,” he said. “But remember, no sailor ever discovered new lands without first losing sight of the shore. Embrace the uncertainty and give Clara, and more importantly, yourself, a chance.”
For the first time that evening, a small smile graced Julian’s lips.
“Thank you, Thomas,” he said. “You’ve always had a way of helping me see sense. I do not know if I can have your faith in this marriage. But I do know that you have never steered me wrong.”
Thomas raised his glass.
“To the future, and the many surprises it may hold,” he said.
Julian clinked his glass against Thomas’, hoping that amidst the ocean of uncertainties, he’d find an island of happiness with Clara.
“To the future,” he echoed. There was still a certain hollowness as he repeated his cousin’s sentiments. He wanted to believe that there was enough truth in Thomas’s words to propel him forward during the betrothal. But the doubt didn’t fully leave him. Nor did the emptiness that he felt at his inability to speak with his mother about what was happening.
“Gentlemen,” the duke said suddenly, getting both Julian’s and Thomas’s attention. “In a deviation from the social norm, I would like to invite you all to rejoin the ladies. My daughter and I have arranged a joined activity to close off our evening.”
Julian’s heart sank. He had been prepared to think over his evening with Clara and what Thomas had just said to him when he retired for the evening. He had not been prepared to see her again before then. But his father gave him a pointed look, and all he could do was finish his still half full drink in one gulp.
“Do not fret, Cousin,” Thomas said, his voice reassuring, albeit not wholly comforting. “Try to allow yourself to have a good time. That is a good first step.”
Julian nodded, rising numbly to his feet. How could he take any first step when all he wanted was to run in the opposite direction?
As Julian entered the drawing room trailing behind the rest of the men, his eyes were instantly drawn to Clara. She stood in conversation with Elizabeth, her blue gown accentuating her grace and the delicate curve of her shoulders. The silver thread work on her dress shimmered, reminding Julian of the sparkle of the stars in a cloudless night sky.
Elizabeth, who was acting in the stead of her mother as hostess for the engagement party, clapped her hands once, capturing the attention of all present as soon as the men had entered the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said. “Father and I have decided that a game of ‘Speculation’ would make a fantastic ending to a lovely night. And as it happens, it is one of our customary entertainment choices during the holiday season at Thornmire.”
A ripple of excitement passed through the room, as “Speculation” was a well-known, well-loved game to many of the guests.
“And our newly betrothed couple here, I believe, should partner for our first round,” the duke said, his eyes twinkling with pride.
Clara, seemingly surprised by another sudden thrust into the spotlight, glanced over at Julian with a mixture of surprise and a nervousness. Julian offered her a reassuring nod and extended his arm as he approached, guiding her to the card table gracefully, despite his pounding heart. Noticing her hesitation in taking his arm, he felt guilty for having snapped at her at dinner. He reminded himself that she was just as helpless in the situation as he was, and that she had been making efforts to be warm and friendly to him. The least he could do was put a little of that effort in for her, as well.
As they settled, the deck was shuffled, and cards were dealt. Julian tried to concentrate on the game, but Clara’s presence proved to be a sudden distraction. Every time she laid down a card, her fingers brushed against his, sending a spark of unexpected warmth through him.
“Julian,” Clara whispered, leaning in slightly, her floral scent enveloping him, “do you remember the rules of ‘Speculation’?”
He looked into her eyes, momentarily lost.
“I must confess, it’s been some time,” he said.
She giggled, the sound like the tinkling of a bell. Had she laughed at all earlier that evening? Or had he just not noticed how musical it sounded?
“Fear not, we shall navigate this game together,” she said. “And may the best player triumph.” There was a playful challenge in her gaze, urging him to join in the merriment. Much to his surprise, he was finally beginning to.
As the game progressed, Clara’s enthusiasm was evident. She cheered for their victories, groaned in mock exasperation at their losses, and was effervescent in her interactions. Julian found himself smiling genuinely, drawn in by Clara’s easy, innocent joy.
