Page 48 of Conquering an Alluring Heiress

“That’s right,” said Judith.

“All we want is for you to be gone.”

The two sisters exchanged a look that was as much shared contempt as it was agreement. Though the room had once more lapsed into silence save for the slurping of Miss Forsythe’s tea, Helena and Judith revelled in their victory.

And then the dam burst within Clara.

“You women are two of the cruellest, most horrible people I have ever had the misfortune of knowing. Since I first walked into this house I have made every, every effort to be whoever it is I am expected to be, and you have treated me as if I were a dog. Worse than a dog, even.”

Helena opened her mouth to protest, but Clara swooped in before she could get a chance.

“Frankly, you were right, Helena—I have no desire to see either of you ever again. In fact, the only thing I wish, deep within myself, is for the two of you to spend the rest of your lives having every slight, every insult, every crumb of abuse you’ve dealt out being returned to you in kind!”

Clara realized that at some point she had stood from the table and was now shouting, her fists alternately waving in the air or banging on the table. But it was far too late to put the leash back on this wild thing that had been released within her.

“Do you think I wished for this? For any of this? Bloody hell, you twits, before Mr Finch came to see me I never knew any of you even existed. Despite how important you might think yourselves to be, rest assured that I had gone my entire life without ever having heard your names, and would have been content to go to my grave exactly the same way.”

Clara felt tears squeeze from her wide, manic eyes. Idly she wished she could stop them up, but all she could do was continue. “All I wanted was to make this right. To make our house a place for all of us.”

Rising to match her posture, Helena snapped, “This is our house, you she-devil, and you shall—”

“Oh, no, dear Helena,” Clara interrupted, feeling her mouth curl in a cruel angle that she found quite uncomfortable. “This was your house. And I shall think of that for as long as I stay here. Every time I dine with the Duke, every time I lay my head down to rest, every step I take I shall say to myself ‘This was Helena and Judith’s house.’ And I will smile to know that what was yours is now mine, and that through your own hatred my daily life shall be a source of frustration and hardship to you.”

The expressions on the three women before her would have been amusing if Clara were not so thoroughly charged with adrenaline. After a moment of mute rage, Helena, Judith, and Miss Forsythe exploded into furious shouting and crosstalk.

Between the confusing muddle of voices and the blood rushing in her ears Clara could not make out a word that came from their spittle-flecked mouths, so without hesitation or care for if they could even hear her, she simply said, “You say you do not wish to remain here a second longer than needed? Then I am so pleased to do you a good turn, sisters, because you may see yourselves out this very minute.”

Once again the room fell into apoplectic silence. The looks on Helena’s and Judith’s faces were wretched enough that Clara feared they might come to blows right there across the tea table. So before her good sense departed her once again, Clara spun about and walked to the door, heart pounding in her breast.

“Miss Clara, where are you going?” Miss Forsythe shouted after her in her hoarse voice. “This is unspeakably rude!”

“I’m just off to help make the arrangements for my beloved siblings to return home,” Clara called over her shoulder. “I’ll just ask one of the servants to fetch their brooms so they can fly back where they came from!”

Don’t look back, she repeated to herself over and over. No matter what they say, just leave this place before you make it worse.

If Clara had been successful in keeping back the rising tide of emotion that loomed before her in the ladies’ parlour—a fact she was entirely unconvinced of, given the ferocity that took control of her at the end—she was now utterly carried off to sea by it. She walked quickly down the corridors, unsure of where she was going or why, knowing only that she needed to get away.

As she walked she was assailed by all manner of words and images, but was not completely sure if they were memories of what was said or fantasies of what might have been said. Clara knew on some level that she had been quite cruel to her visitors, though she could have been far crueller still.

Have you just completely destroyed any chance of peace in this house? she asked herself, over and over. Of course not—that was accomplished by those wretched sisters before you even walked through the door, she would answer.

Once, when she found herself wandering outside in the warmth of the garden, she felt positively thrilled with how this tea had gone. They’re gone now, and after a performance like that, they are not likely to return while I am still here. I am free of any obligation to offer an olive branch, as they so thoroughly broke this one in twain. She giggled, feeling strangely lightheaded. Free not to pretend to be accommodating to those two—that shall certainly not be a bad thing.

Then her thoughts fell to young Christopher and her beloved Edward, and the sunshine was swallowed up by the storm once again. Have I made things terrible for them? Oh, I could not bear it if I had!

The wind carried the sound of footsteps to her ear. Clara whirled, her eyes welling up with tears, and saw Edward standing a few yards away from her on the grass.

“Clara…” was all he could say before she was whisked away by a river of sobs. Even as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight, she was unable to choke out a word from beneath the flood that had consumed her.

“I heard the shouting,” Edward said softly, his hand rubbing her back as he spoke. “Are you all right?”

Clara nearly spat with surprise at this question, but as she looked up into his eyes ready to dismiss the query sarcastically, she saw the sympathy shining in those beautiful dark orbs. Instead of chiding him for asking, she now felt herself saying only, “Thank you, Edward.”

He smiled gently at the words, and as Clara remembered their earlier conversation, she could not help but share his smile despite her torment. Edward put one hand on the back of her head and pulled her back into a close embrace.

“I am so thankful I have you,” she murmured into the warmth of his strong, broad chest. “I would have given up and left long ago if you weren’t here to support me.”

“I could not bear that thought,” Edward answered, rocking gently from side to side. “Whatever happens—whatever you choose to do, whatever your sisters say or do—I need you to know that I will always be happy to have you in my life.”

She looked up into his eyes once again and found herself powerless to resist the impulse to kiss him. In truth, she did not even try to fight it, but leaned up and gave in.

As their lips met, Clara felt herself being carried away from the storm that had raged within her, her problems left far beneath her as she ascended into that wonderful, heavenly place where Edward’s lips always brought her. She felt the warmth of his touch, the love and affection that bubbled up from within him, and as they held one another tightly on the grass she knew everything truly would be all right.

For just a moment when her eyes opened, she thought she saw a pair of hazel eyes peering at them from one of the first-story windows. But before she could blink, the vision was gone, and Edward held Clara as she shed her tears into his coat.

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