“They are well,” he said, pausing to shrug. “Well, as well as you might expect after such a devastating loss.”
Clara nodded, biting her lip.
“Is there something that you need me to do for them?” she asked. It occurred to her that they might be in need of something to bring them cheer during the holiday season. Or, they could have fallen on hard times, and they might have reached out to their closest friends for help.
The earl shook his head, but his eyes flashed with something that Clara couldn’t understand.
“The duke and I have reached an agreement, one that concerns you directly,” he said.
Clara’s heart raced, but she gave her father another small smile.
“Oh?” she asked again, trying to sound casually curious, rather than suddenly on edge.
Her father nodded, a smile spreading across his face. Whatever was on his mind, he seemed rather proud. She chastised herself for tensing up and worrying. Her father would never do anything to hurt her. Whatever his announcement was, she might even find herself delighted by it.
“Shortly after Christmastide,” he continued, hesitating for just a moment, “you are to be wed to Julian, his son.”
Time seemed to stop. Clara’s mind raced faster than her heart, her thoughts becoming a storm of chaos. They knew the duke and his family well, of course. But a marriage? And one of convenience at that? She hadn’t even seen Julian since his mother died. What had prompted her father’s brash decision?
“But why?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
Her father sighed, running a hand through his graying brown hair.
“There is much to be gained from such an arrangement, Clara,” he said. “Both his estate and mine, as well as both our families stand to benefit from this union. And as you just finished your second season, I believe it will be beneficial to you, specifically.”
Clara’s mind screamed in protest, even though her mouth could not form words. She had always dreamt of marrying a man that she loved, someone who touched her heart and soul, and loved her as passionately as she loved him. But now, that dream seemed to vanish before her eyes.
She blinked back tears, allowing the enormity of her father’s revelation to sink in. Her father’s gaze held a combination of sympathy and resolve, as well as a silent plea for understanding. Clara drew a deep breath, digging deep to hold her composure. She knew it was pointless to argue with her father. But how could she just accept his decision?
Once, Julian and she had been considerably close friends. He had been the mischievous boy with twinkling blue eyes who pulled on her hair and chased her into mud puddles and played games with her and her governess during events attended by him and his entire family. There had even been a time during which she had developed feelings for him, the feelings of a young, smitten teenage girl who could have seen herself marrying him one day, if he had only ever returned her affections.
But the universe seemed to have other plans for Clara and Julian. When Julian’s mother died, so, too, did the young man Clara had known for so much of her life. The devastating loss transformed Julian, and they had lost touch a few months after her passing. She couldn’t believe that Julian would be entertaining the notion of marriage with as terribly as his mother’s death had affected him. She certainly couldn’t understand how she, of all the women in London, had been chosen to become his wife. But with the arrangement made, what choice did she have?
With a deep breath and the weight of years of tradition behind her, Clara nodded slowly.
“I understand, Father, and I will respect your decision,” she said flatly.
Her father exhaled in evident relief, but Clara noticed the hint of sympathy in his eyes. He knew the sacrifice he asked of her. Unfortunately, that didn’t make her feel better. It made the notion that he would even ask such a thing, especially without consulting her beforehand, that much harder to comprehend.
“I am glad to hear that, darling,” he said. “Now, you may rejoin your brother and sister with the ornament making, if you like.”
Clara nodded once more, but she didn’t say anything more. There was nothing else to say. The decision was made, and her agreement was entered with her father. Her reluctance and dread about the situation were hers alone, and she would sift through it in the sanctuary of her chambers.
Exiting the study, the world seemed different. The approaching holiday events and plans, which she looked forward to every single year, now had an extra, unwanted layer of significance. It would now also be the season of her betrothal. It would be the season of her marrying Julian. Could she ever truly reconcile with that notion?
Chapter Two
The brilliant sun splashed the sprawling, snow-covered grounds of Thornmire Manor in warm shades of yellow. The steady claps of hooves echoed against the crunchy snow as Julian and his cousin, Thomas, rode along with all the care of young children chasing butterflies in the summer. Julian, tall and regal, urged his horse onward, shivering at the briskness of the cold wind on his face. Beside him, Thomas, two inches shorter and two years younger, grinned, his laugh ringing through the meadow.
“Last one to the back of the meadow treats the winner at White’s next time,” Thomas said, narrowing his eyes and focusing on the landscape before him.
Julian chuckled.
“Impish as always, dear cousin,” he said. Julian only ever lost a race against his cousin if he chose to do so. And on that day, he decided he would do just that. It was nice to be on horseback with the cousin who was more akin to a brother to him. But he was enjoying the light atmosphere of a relaxing trot, rather than the competition of a full-blown race.
The race was short, with Julian keeping a steady but intentionally slower pace behind his cousin. When they reached the edge of the meadow that melted into the edge of the woods between Thornmire Manor estate and the neighboring mansion, Thomas was laughing and wiping his brow.
“You let me win, didn’t you?” he asked.
