Page 65 of The Earl's Disguised Governess
“My admirer,” Graham repeated, clearing his throat. “You have expressed your distaste for courting Lady Samantha well enough for me to know you had no interest in meeting her in private. But what do you want, Ernest? It is time to admit the truth. What do you want from your life because I fear it is not this.”
“It is not,” Ernest agreed. “The truth is I admire Claire. I admire her so much I sometimes cannot think when she is not near me. The thought of her sitting in Little Harkwell wondering if I was indeed caught in a scandalous act with Lady Samantha tortures me, yet I am a coward and cannot go to her. Not yet. Not until I have a solution.”
“A solution, you say?” Graham’s smile deepened. “Well, as it happens, I might have one for you. As I mentioned, I saw Lady Samantha this morning. And I thought more about your words yesterday. She brings out a part of me I have not seen since before the war. A man that I thought I had lost on the battlefield. Myself. My old self, and she says I make her feel laughter again, the way she did before … before grief invaded her heart. I have grown fond of her over time, Ernest and I have already presented the idea of marriage to her, and she is very excited about the prospect. I have warned her I cannot offer her what another man with a title and an estate would, but I can offer her a life of laughter, affection, and dancing.
“For so long, I believed you and Lady Samantha should have been the two to court. But now I see it is me who can honour both my friendship with you and Archibald. I was a coward not to suggest it in the first place, but seeing how much the idea of you and Lady Samantha marrying crushed you, I can see now how strongly you feel for Claire.”
Ernest shook his head. “But Graham, are you sure you not only say this for my benefit? You enjoyed Claire’s company.”
“And I still felt weary and grief-stricken. But with Lady Samantha, it is different.”
“I warned you off her,” Ernest muttered. “Are you sure you are not simply being agreeable to that?”
“I assure you,” Graham told him, meeting his gaze seriously. “Lady Samantha is happy with the idea and agrees we can work on a future together where we shall honour Archibald. But, Ernest, in exchange, I beseech you to chase your own happiness.”
“I do not know what that means anymore.”
“Yes, you do.”
Yes, I do, he thought.
“It is Claire,” Graham told him gently. “And you really do need to chase her before she does something drastic in response to both the rumours about herself and the ones now about you.”
It struck him like lightning, then. Claire would not leave for London without him, would she?
He stood up so fast he banged his knee against the table. “Thank you, Graham. You are the truest friend a man could have asked for.”
“Do not wax poetic to me, you fool. Go on, go after her.”
And he did. He raced from the gentlemen’s club and made it back to Little Harkwell as fast as he could. He would start something real with Claire properly—he would make her see he was honest and true. He would lavish her with finery and riches if that was what she wished. He would give her comfort and long days in the summer and warm nights in the winter.
He wanted a future with Claire, and he would be damned if he let his mother take that away from him.
It was the middle of the night by the time he made it back home, and he heard the sound of a door closing in the basement. He paused, slowing his gait not to look odd to the staff, only to find Claire trudging up the stairs to the main floor of the house.
Her face was twisted in devastation, and tear tracks shone on her cheeks. Her mouth was sullen, and her eyes were downcast.
Ernest could not hold himself back anymore.
He went to her, his footsteps gaining her attention. She gasped upon seeing him, and a moment of relief crossed her face before he swept her up in his arms.
“Claire,” he murmured, holding her close. He no longer cared who saw them. “Claire, whatever you have heard, I beg you not to believe it. It is not true.”
He heard a sniffle pressed to his jacket. “I did not believe it. Not truly. You are an honest man.”
“I am,” he said. “And I am here for you; whatever has you so distraught, I am right here.”
Chapter 24
As soon as Ernest’s arms wrapped around her, Claire melted into him. Every bit of tension she had carried all day dissolved, and she went slack in his arms. Her mother’s encounter left her rattled, but his presence made her feel as though she could actually handle it.
The ghost from her past would hopefully remain that.
Claire was an adult—she had made her own life away from her mother, and she surely got to decide whether her mother remained in it. This time, Claire got the choice.
“Come with me,” she murmured, leading Ernest to her own chambers. Once there, they slipped inside, and she found solace in the privacy it would allow them.
“My mother came here looking for me,” Claire confessed. “She was apparently invited by Lady Katherine, which is no surprise anymore. But she wishes to reconcile with me. I cannot let that happen. She can enter my life and utterly ruin it. She can undo every bit of hard work I have put into my life to get where I am today.” Her voice cracked as she collapsed on the end of her bed.
