eyeing him speculatively as she gave the advice. ‘The flowers you’ve been sending are positively gorgeous, Mr Lashley,’ she added with sly calculation. He didn’t imagine it. Every ear in the room perked up at that.
He left the moment those fifteen required minutes were up, but fate was determined to play with him a little. He called at the Worths, the Penroses to more tea but to no avail, the calls eating up more of his time before he arrived at the Milhams, only to be told the ladies were indisposed at the moment by a butler who was a stickler for propriety, even though they both knew very well the lady he was after was inside somewhere.
After a sleepless night and dubious news over Thomas, Jonathon was in no mood for mannerly games. He stepped around the butler and into the hall. He was a man who believed in never leaving a place until he got what he came for and, right now, what he needed most was Claire Welton. He spied a sitting room off the corridor. ‘I’ll wait.’
* * *
Claire couldn’t wait. She blurted out the words, ‘We have to stop. It has gone too far’, as soon as the foursome was seated in the Milham’s garret the next day. She’d been up all night thinking it through and she knew her decision was the right one. Apparently, fate agreed with her. Jonathon hadn’t shown up for the lesson that morning and she knew why; things had got out of hand in the Rosedale garden.
‘It sounds to me like it’s gone just far enough,’ Beatrice argued with a twinkle in her eye. ‘He’s sending you flowers and dancing with you every night.’
Claire gave an exasperated sigh. How many times did she have to explain it? ‘Only because he thinks I have a gentleman whose attentions I would like to attract.’
‘You do.’ May laughed over the rim of her teacup. ‘His.’
‘But he thinks it’s someone else and I’ve let him,’ Claire insisted. ‘He thinks he’s helping me in exchange for the French lessons.’ While that line of reasoning explained everything up to a point, that point had run out fourteen hours and eleven minutes ago.
The words came out in a rush. ‘Last night, he kissed me.’ Everyone began to talk at once, but she raised her voice to be heard. ‘This morning he didn’t show up for the lesson.’ She didn’t want him to quit the lessons over a kiss. He needed them too badly, more than he needed to feel remorse over a kiss. Had it been such a poor kiss that he didn’t want to see her again, not even for lessons? She had thought it was rather nice. More than nice...extraordinary.
‘He kissed you?’ Evie’s eyes were dreamy, but May’s eyes were sharp.
‘Well, this is certainly a development,’ May drawled. ‘He didn’t need to kiss you in order to help you. I’d call that progress in the right direction.’ May fixed her with a hard stare and Claire braced herself. ‘You wanted Lashley, Claire, and now it seems you can have him. You can’t stop now. You do want him, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ More than before if that was possible. After spending hours with him in lessons, walking and talking with him, she was discovering a whole new Jonathon Lashley. When she’d started this, it had been with the intention of showing him a different side of her. She’d not bargained on also seeing a different side of him. Now, there were consequences she’d not planned on. ‘But not like this—’ Claire insisted.
‘Like what?’ Beatrice interrupted. ‘We’re doing what every woman since Eve has done to get a man and that’s use our assets to attract a man’s notice. The last time I checked, that wasn’t a sin.’
‘But if I hadn’t forced my way into his life, he would still be on a trajectory headed for Cecilia. I don’t want to steal another girl’s beau.’ Even if that girl was Cecilia and there was definitely some settling to do between the two of them.
‘I think your definition of stealing is a bit too liberal, Claire. There’s been no formal announcement, except for Cecilia clinging to his arm for the past year.’ May shook her head. ‘If that was all it took to claim a man, we’d all have the husbands of our dreams by now. If he wants to marry her, he will. It’s simple.’
‘It’s not simple at all, May.’ Because Jonathon was not simple. He had layers beneath that easy smile, layers she was just beginning to discover. ‘He can’t sell himself to her. She will never understand him. You heard her, he’s nothing but the “colour” of the month.’
She had to tell them. ‘You’ve all worked so hard for me and I appreciate everything you’ve done, I truly do. Evie, your gowns are lovely and I feel beautiful in them. Bea, you gave me the courage to seize my moment and I did. May, you made everything happen by setting up seats at the dinner and dropping the right hints at the right time. It all worked wonderfully, but I don’t want to stoop to Cecilia’s level,’ Claire said firmly.
She hoped they wouldn’t notice how hard it was to say such a thing calmly. It had been a difficult decision to make. She wasn’t as sure as May and Beatrice that the kiss signified progress, but if there was even a flicker of ‘progress’ it was even harder to give up knowing she might have success. But at what price? She did not want to ‘lure’ Lashley away. After last night, she felt that might be the case. ‘I think it’s gone too far.’
He’d kissed her out of desperation over his own circumstances or over hers. And that was the ‘good’ explanation. Perhaps he’d kissed her because he felt sorry for her, the poor blue-stocking girl who had never been out in a garden with a beau before. She looked her friends in the eye. ‘I have to give him up.’ It was the right thing to do. Il n’y a pas d’oreiller si doux comme une conscience claire—there is no pillow softer than that of a clear conscience, as the French would say.
Beatrice was staring at her, dark eyes hard. ‘I would say it hasn’t gone far enough. I thought you wanted more than a few stolen moments and a couple waltzes. I thought you wanted Jonathon.’
She did. ‘I do, it’s just...’
‘What? Hard?’ Beatrice was relentless. ‘Of course it’s hard. You are going to have to fight for him. You’re going to have to fight Cecilia and you’re going to have to fight yourself. In fact, you’re probably your worst enemy.’
Claire bristled, Bea’s comments stoking her anger. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Bea, be careful,’ May warned, looking between the two of them.
Beatrice flicked stern eyes in May’s direction. ‘No, she has to hear this. We’ve coddled her too long.’
‘What are you talking about? Coddling me?’ Claire was angry now. Had her friends been keeping secrets? About her?
‘We let you retreat, Claire, when we should have pushed you forward. You are not a wallflower, but we let you play at it until you became one. You’ve changed and not for the better. You’ve created far more doubt for yourself than Cecilia Northam ever could.’
This was stunning. It was definitely not what one expected to hear from one’s friends. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Just uncomfortable. She’d come here anticipating that they would all nod their heads and gather around her in support of her decision to give up Jonathon. They’d fought the good fight, gave it a good run and all that, but in the end it was probably best to stop here. Claire stared at her friends, each of them in agreement with Beatrice. ‘Et tu, Evie?’
Evie nodded. They were disappointed. In her. Why shouldn’t they be? Hadn’t she thought much the same thing
