A Duke in the Night(85)

She became aware that August had moved and was now standing in front of the desk beside her, staring down at the drawings.

“You weren’t meant to see these,” he said.

“Why not?” She would not cry. “They are remarkable.”

“I had these ordered long before…us.”

“Us.” Clara made a rude noise, unable to help herself. “There was no us, Your Grace. There was, however, what you would probably call unexpected benefits from good business.”

“No.” He said it harshly. “The idea of Haverhall’s potential came up long before I…before we…” He stopped. “What happened with us, what we are, what we have become, has nothing to do with any of this.”

Clara blew out a shaky breath. “I think I’ve already heard that line before.” She needed to leave. Get out of here, away from him, and recover her composure before she did or said something that she would regret. That she wouldn’t be able to find an excuse for. Because they hadn’t become anything. Not anything lasting, anyway, which was exactly what could be said for her school. All good things must come to an end at some point, and this was simply one of them.

“When will you start?” she asked, still feeling numb. “Developing the land?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know if I…Not until you…”

“Until I what? Find a position as a governess in a wealthy house?” She flinched, knowing she sounded bitter and petty. And she was better than that. “That’s why you gave me a year’s grace, isn’t it?”

“A governess?” August made a rude noise. “You are a brilliant teacher, Clara. There are many schools that would be lucky to have you,” he growled. “Your brother has somehow managed to set Strathmore Shipping to rights with no help from me. The fortune that your father lost will soon be recovered and then some. You will be able to do anything.”

He was right, she knew. Even if it felt like a betrayal now, she needed to keep it in perspective. She needed to think like August. Needed to believe that it was an opportunity, not a loss. The only loss here was that of her heart.

“I wish you had told me about this,” she whispered.

“I tried,” he said. “I tried to tell you.”

“For a man known for his ruthlessness and determination, you didn’t try very hard, then.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He raked a hand through his hair. “Because then you would have looked at me the way you’re looking at me right now. I would have been only the man who had stolen your legacy from you.”

“Perhaps,” Clara said sadly. “But I would like to think I would have respected you for it. I would have liked to have believed that you trusted me—that you believed in me enough to know that I would have understood why you were doing what you did.”

“Yet you wouldn’t trust me with the truth,” he said quietly. “You didn’t trust me enough to ask for help.”

“I suppose I didn’t,” Clara whispered sadly. “And now I can’t say that I was wrong. I thought that I might have been worth at least something. That we were worth at least something, but you’ve made it very clear that you will never put anyone before your need to have more.”

“That’s not true. Clara, I don’t want to lose you,” he said.

“You can’t lose something that you never had. I am not something else to be acquired.”

“Clara, I want us to—”

“There isn’t an us, August. Us implies that we would have faced the difficult things together the same as we would have faced the things that were easy. There was a you, doing what you thought was right for yourself and your family, and there was a me, who did what I thought was right for my family.” Clara took a shuddering breath and rolled the drawings up neatly. She stared down at them for a minute before she turned. “I wish you well, August. I know that this will be beautiful when it’s done.”

He was looking at her, those intense blue eyes conflicted. “Don’t go. Not like this.”

“Goodbye, Your Grace,” Clara said, hanging on to her composure by the tiniest of threads. And then she fled.





Chapter 21





Hours later, it was Rose who found Clara in her office, staring miserably out the window at Haverhall’s gardens, watching the first leaves fall and litter the ground.

“There you are,” Rose said, coming in and flopping herself down on one of the chairs in a most unladylike manner. Her hands were still stained with paint, and the apron she wore to cover her skirts was similarly streaked. “I was watching for you, but I must have missed you coming back. Did you go to see Holloway?”

“I did.”

“And?” Rose asked, leaning forward. “What did you think of his idea?”

Clara felt her jaw slacken, another spear of betrayal stabbing at her. “Jesus, Rose. You knew?”

Confusion spread over Rose’s delicate features. “Knew what?”

“About his plans for Haverhall.” It was bad enough Holloway had kept it from her, but Rose had too?

“What the hell are you talking about?” her sister demanded. “You’re not making any sense.”