Courting Claudia (10 page)

“Really?”

“Mildred Blanlard told me and several other girls that she saw a couple pressed against the balcony. She said they were kissing so much, they were oblivious to everything around them.” Poppy raised her eyebrows.

Claudia's lunch flipped in her stomach. Actually, she could imagine. If her father found this out, he'd kill her for sure. She licked her lips and wished she had something to drink, as suddenly her mouth had gone completely dry.

“Did she happen to say who the girl was?” If word got out about this, she'd be ruined. Not only in her father's eyes, but everyone's. Poppy's parents would probably forbid their proper daughter to spend time with someone who behaved so disgracefully.

Poppy shook her head. “No, she said it was too dark to see. She tried to wait to find out, but her mother called her away.”

“That's a relief. I mean for that girl. Can you imagine if Mildred saw you doing anything inap
propriate? She'd put an announcement in the
Times
. She's such a jealous sort. It's no wonder that she hasn't found a husband yet.”

Poppy eyed her suspiciously. “You're acting peculiar. What are you hiding?” She gave Claudia a gentle pinch on the arm. “You know who it was, don't you?”

“No!” she shrieked. Well, there was the way to hide her innocence. She was wretched at keeping secrets.

“Oh my God! It was you, wasn't it? You and Derrick Middleton. I suspected as much.”

“How?”

“I saw you two at the art exhibit. You certainly weren't being very discreet.”

“Oh, this is simply splendid.” Claudia dropped her head into her hands.

“Not to worry,” Poppy reassured her, “no one else saw you there. Except for Alistair, but he won't tell. Why didn't you tell me?”

“I don't know. I wanted to, but I wasn't certain how you'd feel about it. He's not properly courting me, and my father will never allow me to have a legitimate relationship with him. There's no respectable reason to allow him to kiss me.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Claudia couldn't help herself. She smiled. “I don't know.”

“Tell me more. You can't expect me to let you go without giving me details of the kiss.”

“The kiss was…”
Amazing, toe-curling, sensual, heart-stopping.
So many thoughts came to mind, but none of them seemed to fit. So she settled on “Really nice.”

Poppy's shoulders deflated. “Really nice? Derrick Middleton presses you against a balcony rail and kisses you for the better part of ten minutes and all you can say is it was ‘really nice'?”

“I don't really have a base for comparison.”

“Did you feel it all over? I read in a novel once where the woman was kissed by a wicked Frenchman and she felt it all over.
All over
. I can't even imagine.”

A month ago it had been hard to imagine. Never in her wildest thoughts had she envisioned a kiss affecting her the way Derrick's did.

“You could say I felt it all over. I felt it in other places besides my lips.” She fought the urge to giggle. She lost. “It feels as if our lips were meant for each other. I know that sounds so silly, but kissing him feels as natural as breathing. Yet it feels so deliciously foreign at the same time. It's quite exhilarating.”

“I'm assuming the art exhibit wasn't the first time?”

“No. Once before at my house, in the garden,
that was the first. And then again when I went riding with him. Then the art exhibit, and then the Finnigers' ball. I'm shameless.”

“And you've successfully kept this from me for that long?”

Claudia expected Poppy to give her a lecture on how they were supposed to be confidantes. Instead her friend merely smiled.

“I'm impressed,” she finally said.

“Impressed?”

“That you kept it a secret. You've never been very good at secrets. Particularly your own. Which leads me to believe that there must be more that you're hiding. More than a few kisses.”

Claudia shook her head. “No. Only the kisses. We haven't done anything else. I swear.”

Poppy laughed. “That's not what I meant. But that's intriguing.”

“You think I'm a harlot, don't you?”

“Why would I think a silly thing like that?”

“Because I've been intimate with a man who is not properly courting me. And who doesn't have permission from my father to do so.”

“Doesn't have your father's permission to court you, or to be intimate with you?” Poppy asked with a smile.

“Neither. Of course, Derrick said he would not
be dictated by my father. He claims I'm old enough to marry who I choose.”

“That's quite bold of him. Has he proposed?”

“No. I doubt he will. I don't believe he truly wants to marry me.”

“For someone who's not so serious, he's certainly doing a better job of courting you than Richard.”

“Be serious, Poppy.”

“I was. Has it not occurred to you that Mr. Middleton might be interested in you because of who you are and not because of your father and his political ties? This might be the one. The one who could free you, who would allow you to continue illustrating. Who would love you.” Poppy fell back on her bed. “If I were you, I'd try to get myself compromised with him so he'd have to marry me.”

“Poppy! You would do no such thing, and neither will I. That's a wretched thought, trying to snare a husband in such a manner. He'd probably never speak to me again. I know my father wouldn't.”

“I was only joking. But I still think you should consider the fact that Derrick is clearly serious in courting you.”

“Honestly, Poppy. When you look at him, am I the type of woman you'd think he'd choose?”

“Why wouldn't you be?”

Claudia shook her head. “Don't think of it as me—you love me, so of course you'll say yes. Pretend I'm a girl you don't know. Some girl across the ballroom wearing a silly dress to hide her imperfections. Am I the type of girl you'd see him with?”

“Claudia, you're beautiful. I'm sorry you can't see that. But I'm thrilled he can. There is no reason you should try to hide behind anything. The only reason more men don't court you is because they're scared of your father. Derrick Middleton is not likely to be afraid of anyone.”

“Since Derrick refuses to stop courting me, I must handle the situation myself.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“I shall clear my social calendar for a few weeks until Richard proposes.”

“And what if Richard doesn't propose? Will you go into permanent hiding?”

“I don't know. But Richard will propose.”

“Do I need to tell you again that I think it's a bad idea that you marry Richard?”

“No, you do not. And I trust that when I'm married to him and am as miserable as you predict, you will still be my friend?”

“That is a ridiculous question. Of course I will.”
Poppy smacked her in the arm. “I have a question for you, though. What was it about the kisses that you didn't want me to know? Was it that you felt you were betraying Richard? Or did you feel that allowing Derrick liberties would make me question your virtue?”

Claudia thought for a moment of how to answer those questions. Why had she kept the secret from her friend? She rarely kept anything from Poppy. Yet she had been reluctant to share this secret.

She didn't particularly feel as if she was betraying Richard, although she knew she ought to feel that way, which made the entire situation all that much worse. She didn't think Poppy would judge her innocence or lack thereof no matter what liberties she allowed Derrick or any other man to take. Poppy would never judge her. So what was it?

“I know what it is,” Poppy said, interrupting her thoughts.

“Splendid, because I'm at a loss. I'm certain I had a perfectly good reason. Perhaps I was simply embarrassed.”

“No, that's not it,” Poppy said as if that were the most ridiculous thing she ever heard. “To admit to me that you had kissed Derrick Middleton would
make you have to acknowledge something you'd rather not acknowledge.”

Claudia frowned. “What would that be?”

“That you want him. That you're attracted to him, and you thoroughly enjoy kissing him and wish it were him in your future and not Richard.”

Claudia opened her mouth to respond, then promptly shut it. Could she refute that? Was it true? Of course it was true. She wanted Derrick in a way she didn't know a woman could want a man. It was as if once she met him, she'd been turned on, like a lantern, and she burned hotter and brighter than she ever thought possible.

“I will assume your silence confirms my opinion,” Poppy said. “It's a logical argument. But now that I've said it out loud, it's out there, in the air, and you must acknowledge it. Admit it, Claudia. You wish you could marry Derrick.”

Claudia tilted her head and thought for a moment. “I'm not certain I'll admit to that. I want him, desire him, but I don't know that I want to marry him. I've never considered marriage with any other man than Richard.”

“What about when you were a girl? Didn't you fantasize about a handsome man coming to whisk you away, pledging his undying love to you?”

“I suppose I did at one time.” But her father's
voice had squelched those fantasies before they became too advanced.

His voice rang in her ears.
You'll never be beautiful, Claudia. You need to cultivate other ways to ensnare a husband.

No, she'd never much dreamed of anything but living a life that would make her father proud. Yet that seemed the biggest fantasy of all.

“Well, you should start fantasizing about that now. Derrick could be the one, Claudia. You're like the princess trapped in the highest tower of the castle, and he is your knight come to rescue from the evil tyrant.”

Claudia winced. “I suppose my father is the evil tyrant in this scenario?”

“Yes.”

“You've been reading too many adventure novels. We are not in Camelot, and Derrick Middleton is no knight.” Although the thought of him rescuing her was vastly appealing. She loved her father, but she longed to be free from his demands.

“How will you ever know if you're happy, if you never dream?”

She was happy. Wasn't she? And she dreamed, or she used to, but her dreams were impossible. Fantasies. Women of her station didn't have paid positions, and they rarely married for love. Then
she remembered what Baubie always told her—that when she was born, she brightened her mother's life. As if her mother was born for that purpose, to be a mother. Perhaps that was Claudia's purpose as well.

“I want a family, Poppy. That is my dream. And that will make me happy.”

“Even if you do not love your husband?”

“I can love Richard.”

“Not real love, Claudia. Not the heart-pounding kind that shakes every fiber of your being.”

“Probably not that kind of love. But I would wager that most marriages lack that kind of love, and they survive and those people are happy. You've never said love was a requirement for marriage. You've said yourself many times how you'll end up in a rotten marriage. What is so different now?”

“Alistair.”

“The painter?”

“Yes.” Poppy scooted closer. “He's so wonderful. I love him. And I know he loves me. We haven't said so, of course, it's far too soon. But I feel it, and I'm positive he does as well. Oh, Claudia, it's so wonderful to be in love. Just like the heroines I've read about.”

Claudia forced herself to smile. She was happy for her friend, and she didn't want to strip her of
this moment simply because she hadn't been fortunate to find the same kind of luck.

“That's marvelous, Poppy. What have your parents said?”

“Nothing yet. I haven't exactly told them.”

“I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but what of your responsibility to your family? How will an artist's wages improve your family's financial situation?”

Poppy clapped her hands. “That's the beauty of it! Alistair is rich. He's the second son of an earl. His brother only recently came into the title. Alistair even has a holding in Sussex.”

“Oh, that's splendid. See, I told you that you wouldn't get stuck marrying some old codger!”

“Y
our note said it was urgent, so I came as quickly as I could,” Richard said.

Emerson Prattley, Viscount Kennington, eyed the man in the doorway. He motioned him to enter the room. “Close the door. This matter is not only urgent, but extremely private.”

“Is Claudia home?”

“No, but she might be soon. I sent for you hours ago when she first left. Where have you been?”

His eyes shifted. “I was in a meeting.”

“I see. Let's carry on before my daughter returns. Sit.”

Richard obeyed and sat across the desk in the leather wingback.

“When are you planning to propose to my daughter? I assume you have not forgotten your promise to do so.”

He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “No, I have not forgotten. But still I am not ready.”

“I can't blame you for stalling. I wouldn't want to be saddled with a woman like my daughter. Too much flesh. And far too many opinions, although I've done what every father could to try and break her of that.”

He poured himself a drink, deliberately not offering any to Richard. “She's not the pick of the litter, I realize that, but once you're married, you'll have ample opportunity to mold her to the kind of woman you wish…or I suppose you could just blow out the candles at night so you don't have to look at her.”

“It's not that. I have a bit of a situation.”

“Ah, a lady not willing to share you? You can dally with other females after you're married. There's no reason to drag your feet now. You have a nice dowry waiting for you.”

“I'm not dallying with anyone. As soon as my problem is sorted out, I will be ready to take Claudia as my wife. I need more time.”

“I'm afraid you don't have any more time. I didn't want to resort to drama, but you've left me no choice. Either you propose to my daughter immediately, or the queen will hear of your little embezzlement.”

Richard came to his feet. “You must give me more time. I need money now. Give me her dowry now, and I'll marry her.”

“Why do you need money?”

“I have a debt that needs to be repaid.”

“Or what?”

“Or they'll kill me,” he yelled.

“Lower your voice. I don't believe you keep good company, Foxmore. What is the debt for?”

His lips pursed. “Necessities. Living expenses. There is a high price to pay to wear respectable clothes and eat at respectable establishments.”

“Idiot.”

“Will you front me her dowry? I'll marry her as soon as the debt is paid.”

“What kind of fool do you take me for? No, you won't get one farthing of her dowry until after you've said your vows. I don't trust you, Foxmore.”

“If you report me to the queen, I'll hang.”

“Possibly. But more than likely you'll rot in prison.”

“Give me some more time. Two days, that's all I
ask. I'll go see my uncle to borrow the money. He's only a day's ride from here. As soon as I return, I'll marry Claudia. You have my word.”

“Your word means nothing to me.” He lit a cigar and took a thoughtful drag. “But your fear speaks loud and clear. I shall give you two days. After that I will post the announcement of your pending nuptials in the
Times
myself. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“One more thing. Leave a letter for Claudia setting up an appointment where you will propose.” He held out a piece of parchment.

Richard took the paper and nodded. He reached for the quill and scratched out a note. He let the ink dry, then folded the letter and wrote her name on the outside.

“I'll be back in two days.” He held out the letter.

“I look forward to the announcement. And for your sake, Richard, you better be here, or those people to whom you owe your debt will be the least of your worries.”

 

“I thought you were going to stay home this week, not accept any invitations,” Poppy said, obviously surprised to see her friend.

Claudia removed her gloves. “My father insisted I come. He said I was not permitted to re
fuse an invitation by Lady Oliver. Besides, it's not likely I'll see Derrick here. Only dandies come to these card parties.”

Poppy giggled. “Yes, I see Morris Brimley over there. He is the very picture of a dandy. I was not aware that dots and stripes were complementary patterns.”

“Penelope, watch that mouth,” her mother said as she walked near. “If I heard you, then there's a chance he did.”

“I doubt it, Lady Livingston, he's deaf in his left ear,” Claudia offered.

“Regardless, it wasn't kind. Mind your manners, dear, or you'll never find a husband.”

That last part Poppy mouthed in perfect unison with her mother. It seemed every chance she got, Lady Livingston reminded her daughter of the importance of behavior and securing a husband. She meant well. It was only because she herself had found such joy in marriage and motherhood that she wanted Poppy to have the same, and she wanted Poppy well cared for.

“Girls, go and find your tables. And behave.”

It was nice having a mother fret over her again. Claudia loved Poppy's mother. She wasn't a replacement by any means, but she was the perfect stand-in when Claudia needed one.

“Alistair sent me a poem,” Poppy said as soon as they were out of earshot from her mother.

“An original?”

“I believe so. It's not one I've heard before.”

“Was it any good?”

Poppy's smile lit her face. “It was wonderfully romantic, with clever rhymes.”

“Has he been to see your father, to make his intentions known?”

“No, but I suspect he will soon.”

“I'm really happy for you,” Claudia said, then gave Poppy a brief hug before they sat at their table.

They hadn't so much as taken their seats when Derrick walked into the room. Claudia's heart fell to her toes. She was certain her mouth dropped open, so she brought her hand to her lips to hold it shut just in case. What could he possibly be doing here? Tea and a card party, in the middle of the afternoon? It hardly seemed the kind of thing a man would enjoy. Especially a man who took great pleasure in living the life of a rogue.

He met her eyes across the room and smiled. The connection between them sizzled. She looked over at Poppy to see if she'd noticed, but she was busy shuffling the cards.

“Poppy,” Claudia whispered.

“What?”

“Look over there.” She motioned with her head, trying not to look again in his direction.

“What's he doing here?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Well, you are the most intimate with him.”

Claudia smacked her in the arm. “Not so loud. And we're not…intimate.”

“You don't have to say it like a curse. There's nothing wrong with intimacy.”

Derrick leaned over an older woman and kissed her on the cheek. She said something, and he laughed heartily. The rich rumble sent gooseflesh dancing across Claudia's arms. He asked Lady Oliver a question, and she pointed to their table.

“Goodness, why is she pointing at us?” Claudia asked.

“We shall find out soon enough; here he comes. Oh, and he's not alone, looks like Morris Brimley will be joining us. What a positively splendid afternoon. Perhaps I can marry him.”

Claudia couldn't help herself and giggled at the thought of beautiful Poppy shackled to a fop like Morris Brimley. “At least he's not old,” Claudia offered.

Poppy poked her in the arm.

“Having fun without me.” Derrick clicked his
tongue. “You should be ashamed.” Derrick took the seat opposite her and smiled broadly. It was a wolfish grin, as if he planned to eat her up, then lick his chops.

Ordinarily a feeling that a man wanted to devour her might not sit so well, but with Derrick Middleton, it was a nice, although inappropriate, thought.

Morris took the seat opposite Poppy. He smoothed his hair before offering a smile. “Good afternoon, ladies.” Claudia hadn't remembered him having a lisp. “I don't believe I've made your acquaintance, sir. I am Morris Brimley, Viscount Felmworth.” His face pinched as he looked at Derrick.

“Derrick Middleton, lowly son of a working man,” he said dryly.

Claudia suppressed a laugh. “He owns
London's Illustrated Times
.”

Derrick shrugged in confirmation.

Morris seemed unimpressed. More than likely he had a lack of knowledge regarding
London's Illustrated Times
; he didn't seem like much of a reader.

“Mr. Middleton, who is that lady over there that you spoke to when you came in?” Poppy asked.

“That is my aunt, the dowager Duchess of Shelton.”

“Your aunt is the dowager Duchess of Shelton?” Claudia asked.

“Yes. You know of her?”

“Everyone
knows
of her,” Poppy said. “She's legendary. But I thought she'd retired from Society years ago.”

“She had, but she's recently moved back to London, and is reacquainting herself with some old friends.”

“I'm sorry, why is she legendary?” Morris asked.

“She's married no fewer than two dukes in her lifetime. And she's known for having a complete disregard for convention. She's a force to be reckoned with and a good example for women of our generation,” Poppy said.

“I believe, Lady Penelope, that you know more of my aunt than I do,” Derrick said.

“She is a fascinating woman. I would very much like to meet her at some point.”

“I think I can arrange that,” he said.

“Shall we get on with the game?” Morris suggested. “Lady Penelope, I do believe we've been paired together today.” He gave her a toothy grin.

“Splendid,” Poppy said, although Morris didn't seem to notice her lack of sincerity.

“I suppose that leaves you and me to partner, Miss Prattley,” Derrick said.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” Claudia said.

Morris dealt first, with hearts as the trump. Fitting.

Derrick eyed her above his cards. As much as she hated to admit it, it thrilled her to be on the receiving end of his attention. She was certain everyone in the room noticed, and while she might have to pay for that later with her father, right now it made her smile. Besides, it wasn't as if she could do anything about his being here—she herself hadn't invited him. And her father had insisted she attend.

Did her father know Derrick's aunt was the dowager Duchess of Shelton? Would it make a difference? Probably not, but it might be worth mentioning the next time they spoke, since Derrick clearly had no intention to cease courting her.

Something touched her shoe.

She looked up and met his glance, and he raised one eyebrow.

Was that his foot? Touching her foot? At a proper tea and card party, full of matronly women and dandies?

He was completely shameless.

She smiled again despite the gravity of the situation. What she should do was get up and leave. But that would only make a scene and draw more attention to them. She tucked her feet in closer to
her, trying desperately to stick them underneath her chair, but with her undergarments, that was an impossibility.

Poppy played a seven of diamonds, and then it was Claudia's turn. She glanced at her cards and tossed down a three of diamonds. Then it was Morris's turn, and she realized she still held the ten of diamonds. Clearly she wasn't paying proper attention to the game. She hoped Derrick wouldn't mind if they lost.

When this game was over, she would simply make her excuses and leave early. She could plead a headache or some other ailment.

It was her turn again. She studied her cards, trying to determine the best to play. Finally she gave up and tossed down a four of spades.

Once the game ended, she quickly stood. “I'm afraid I must leave you to find a new player. I've developed a headache and believe it in my best interest to return home and lie down.”

Poppy frowned at her, but she could explain to her friend later.

She didn't check for Derrick's reaction, rather made her excuses to the hostess, then stepped into the hallway.

Claudia stood waiting for the butler to retrieve her cloak, when Derrick grabbed her elbow.

“I do hope you're not leaving on my account.”

She jerked her arm free. “Certainly not. I'll have you know that very few of my actions are determined by you.”

“I see. Then you are not angry that I followed you here.”

“You followed me here?” What was it about him that made her want to touch him? A simple placement of her hand on his arm was all it would take, but such a thing was entirely improper. It seemed the more she tried to behave around him, the more her body and mind protested.

He shrugged. “I knew you would be here today, and I wanted to see you.”

She tried her best not to smile. It shouldn't please her so that he'd come here only to see her. But it did. It was a heady feeling that tingled all the way to her toes. He'd followed her here. She should stop being such a goose and leave the house as she intended.

She glanced around the wood-paneled hall, seeing no sign of the butler or anyone else. “You've deserted poor Poppy and Viscount Felmworth. You should get back to your game, and I should be going.”

“Are you looking for someone?”

“The butler went to retrieve my cloak.” She lifted her chin. “And I don't believe it is appropriate for us to be chatting alone.”

“We're in the middle of the hall.”

“It matters not. Is there something of importance you wish to discuss with me? Or will you leave me here to wait for my cloak alone?”

“Actually there is something.” He grabbed her arm again, but this time he pulled her, leading her to an alcove below the stairs. “Now, is this better?”

“No. If people find us here, they will assume the worst.”