Page 38 of Passions of a Wicked Earl
“Quite the contrary. You’re both exceedingly lovely.”
“Then we must be off, or we’ll be late.”
“I’ve told you, Beth, that it’s fashionable to be late,” Claire said, giving her sister an indulgent smile.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Why issue an invitation with a time on it if you don’t want people to be there on time?”
“I fear we will be a tad late,” Westcliffe said, “as I have a matter to which I must attend.”
“Oh, Lord,” Beth whined rolling her eyes.
No matter how young Claire had been when they married, he couldn’t imagine her throwing such tantrums at the smallest of inconveniences. He couldn’t imagine her throwing a tantrum at all. He walked to his desk, opened a drawer, and withdrew a black velvet box. “I thought a lady about to embark on her first ball of her first Season should have something by which to remember it.”
He extended it toward Beth.
Her eyes widened, and she smiled brightly. “Oh! For me! Oh! Thank you.” She hurried across the short distance separating them and eagerly snatched the box from him. Opening it, she gasped. “Oh, it’s lovely! Oh, Claire, look. A pearl bracelet. Help me put it on, will you, please?”
She smiled at him softly, and in her blue eyes, he saw the gratitude for what he considered a small gesture—and what she obviously considered so much more. It gave him a sense of accomplishment such as he’d never before experienced.
“Of course, I’ll assist you,” she said, coming to stand between him and Beth, near enough that her rose fragrance wafted toward him. He could see the pearl loops in her hair swaying gently with her movements as she bent her head to see to her sister’s needs. What of her own?
When Claire was finished, Beth continued to exclaim about the beauty of the gift and walked over to a lamp, turning her wrist one way and another to better admire it in the light. Claire looked at him, and mouthed, “Thank you.”
“It’s your first ball of your first Season as well, isn’t it?” he asked, reaching back into the drawer and withdrawing another velvet box.
Tears welled in her eyes, and he watched as her delicate throat worked while she swallowed. “I wasn’t expecting …”
And he realized that made it all the more enjoyable to give it. Every other woman in his life had expected the trinkets and baubles.
“Well, open it, Claire, for pity’s sake, and let’s see what it is,” Beth demanded.
“Oh, yes, of course.” She’d managed to blink back the tears, but her hand was trembling when she took the box. Inside on a bed of velvet was a circlet of sapphires. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she whispered, in awe.
“You’d mentioned that you favored blue,” he said.
Smiling warmly, she nodded. “Yes.”
“It is lovely,” Beth said. “Pity you can’t wear it tonight, unless you change your gown.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Something this exquisite can be worn with anything.”
She began to lift it out.
“Allow me,” he said, taking it from her and draping it around her wrist. Although she wore gloves that rode up her arms and curled around her elbows, he could have sworn he felt her pulse thumping as he secured the clasp. Then he found himself looking down into her eyes, could sense her studying him. He didn’t know what had possessed him to purchase the pieces. He’d been shopping for something for Anne—a reward for her patience—when he’d spied the piece and thought of Claire. He didn’t want her to make more of it than she should, so he’d purchased a bracelet for her sister as well. “Just something to remember the night by.”
She stepped back, nodding once more. “Again, thank you.”
“May we leave now?” Beth asked, her impatience obvious.
He gave a low chuckle as he reached into his pocket for his gloves. “Without further ado.”
During the carriage ride, Claire couldn’t stop touching the bracelet. He’d given her a gift on their wedding day, but she was fairly certain it had been an obligation. This gift—what did it signify?
He’d taken her breath when she’d walked into the library and seen him in his tight black trousers, gray waistcoat, and blue double-breasted tailcoat. He looked magnificent. Even with his black hair styled, he still exuded a roughness that was appealing on a primal level. She couldn’t imagine that there was a woman in all of England who wouldn’t want him. She certainly did. But it was more than his good looks that appealed to her. She’d not expected the care and attention he took with Beth. She’d certainly not expected this slow shifting in their relationship.
She again touched the bracelet. In all honesty, she’d dreaded what tonight might bring for her. Pity, shame, gossip. But his simple gesture had laid all her worries to rest. She would make it through tonight. Beth would have her ball, her Season, and she would find someone to replace Hester.
Carriages were lined up in the drive leading to the Greystones’ residence, and it was several long minutes—during which Beth repeatedly suggested that they simply leave the carriage and walk—before they arrived at the front. A liveried footman opened the door and handed them down. Claire couldn’t deny the tautening of her stomach as she climbed the steps to the entrance. Her heart steadied when Westcliffe placed his hand on the small of her back. It was only a brief touch, but it was enough.
