invited.’ She raised her hand to speak from the back of it as if she and Clara were sharing some great intimacy. ‘As much as I adore Lady Tillman, I’ve always questioned her selection of guests. Sometimes they can be so common.’
Her gaze flicked over Clara, who was certain that Lady Fulton was including her in that collection. Clara’s title might garner her respect, but not from everyone, especially someone like Lady Fulton who, despite the fashionableness of her dark blue evening dress, and the gaudy gold jewellery she wore, could not completely hide her more humble roots.
‘I believe a wide variety of guests always lends a touch of surprise to any gathering. One never knows who one might meet here, isn’t that right, Lady Pariston?’
‘It is,’ the grand dame concurred, too old to be ruffled by a parvenu like Lady Fulton. ‘Who knows what might come of new friendships.’
‘But they aren’t all new, are they?’ Lady Fulton leaned closer to Clara, her look of affected concern as sickening as her overly sweet perfume. ‘It can’t be easy for you to see him again.’
Clara sat up straighter so she could peer down her nose at the rude woman. Whatever impression she’d made on Lady Fulton in the hallway before dinner had worn off. It was time to assert herself again. ‘I find it as easy to see him as I do to see those who overstep the bounds of propriety by speaking too intimately to their betters.’
Lady Fulton jerked back and pressed her thin lips tight together at having been put in her place and by Clara of all people. Clearly she hadn’t expected this show of spirit and if she hadn’t risen at that moment to seek out other companionship, she would have tasted a great deal more of it. Clara almost wished she had stayed for, with her hackles raised and the tension still lingering from dinner, a little tiff would help her sit much easier on the sofa while they waited for the men to join them.
‘Well done, Lady Kingston,’ Lady Pariston congratulated, patting her on the knee. ‘You stood up to her as you should.’
‘I wish it hadn’t been necessary to do so.’ But Lady Fulton had been the one to strike the first blow. Who was she to cast any aspersions on Clara or even Hugh? Yet she’d felt bold enough to do it simply because of Hugh’s presence and their unfortunate seating at the dinner table. ‘With any luck, that will put an end to any of her other observations about me, at least in public.’
She could not control what they said in private any more than she could command Hugh to leave. She could only hope that nothing else happened this weekend to give that vile woman or anyone else more cause to look down their noses at her or to insist on seeing her as nothing more than the awkward young girl she’d once been. She would not be made to feel inconsequential again, not by Lady Fulton and certainly not by Hugh.
‘Care less what others think and you’ll be happier, I promise,’ Lady Pariston instructed, as if able to hear her doubts about herself and this week. ‘Besides, the way Lord Delamare regarded you tonight won’t silence anyone’s tongues and if they’re going to whisper then you might as well give them something worth whispering about. A house party is as good a place as any to do it.’
‘Lady Pariston!’ Clara could not believe she was having this conversation with a woman who could be her grandmother or that Lady Pariston was suggesting that Hugh had regarded her with a great deal of interest. The only thing he was probably interested in was her money.
‘Oh, don’t look so shocked. You’d be surprised by what all these ladies get up to, but you won’t hear about it because they’re discreet. I was discreet, too, and oh, I did have my fun, not when I was married, mind you, but on a number of occasions afterwards.’ She laid a wrinkled and bejewelled hand on her chest and smiled with winsome pride. ‘With a little discretion you could get up to a little trouble with that fine specimen of a marquess yourself.’
First Anne, now Lady Pariston. There were times when Clara seemed like the only one who cared about the blemishes of Hugh’s past. ‘I’ve already had enough trouble with Lord Delamare and, judging by what I’ve heard of him, he’s had a fair amount of his own trouble.’
‘Good, it means he knows his way around a woman.’ Lady Pariston winked at her before throwing back her head and laughing. Clara’s cheeks began to burn as people turned to view them before returning to their amusement. Then Lady Pariston sobered and faced her again. ‘Seriously, my dear, you have been placed in this position at far too young an age and now you must make the best of it. Don’t work so hard to please others, only yourself, and if that pleasure should include the young man, then so be it.’
Clara waved her hand in front of her face against the heat of the fire. ‘I assure you, what I want does not include Lord Delamare.’
‘Don’t be so set against it. It does no good for a woman to be alone, especially when there is a man willing to keep her company.’ Lady Pariston sat back, regarding her out of the corner of her eyes as if she didn’t believe for a moment what Clara had said.
Clara laid her hand in her lap with a sigh. She could insist it was true but there was no point. Lady Pariston was right, people would believe what they wanted and Clara should not be guided by a desire to try to control it. All she could control was how she responded to everyone, including Hugh, but she had no energy to do any more of that tonight. Rising, she offered the ladies goodnight and took her leave, unwilling to wait for the arrival of the men.
It would be a pleasure to be alone in her room where no one expected more of her than blowing out her candle before she fell asleep and she didn’t need to deal with the issue of Hugh and how to handle him while she was here. She wasn’t about to follow Lady Pariston’s advice, but she was at a loss for her own ideas about what to do. She needed her rest if she was going to face more of it tomorrow. Heaven knew this was not how she’d expected this week to be.
‘You and Lord Delamare were quite silent at dinner last night,’ Anne remarked, taking the empty seat beside Clara in the sitting room where all the guests were gathering for the traditional partnering for the week’s activities. The ladies wore their sturdy pelisses and shoes and held their leather gloves in anticipation of an outside game. The weather had remained pleasant if not cold and everyone was sure the Tillmans would take advantage of it to amuse their guests. The men were equally bundled up in heavier coats and redingotes, but everyone had undone the top few buttons to keep from sweltering in the warm sitting room.
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