Page 26 of A Baron’s Most Inconvenient Marriage (Delightful Lords and Ladies)

Ten Years Later

“You don’t need to skulk in the corner, my dear,” Mrs. Harrington said as she moved to stand beside Clara. “You can come and join us, if you like.”

“I don’t feel comfortable, Mrs. Harrington,” Clara admitted, trying not to adjust her dress for the fifth time in as many minutes. “I feel… exposed.”

“It’s just the fashion of the new gowns. It’s nothing people haven’t seen before.”

“But they haven’t got… this.” Clara gestured at her upper chest. “I look like I’ve got the pox.”

The current fashions were not something she was happy with at all. There were lower necklines on the gowns. They were modest enough, but it was too much for Clara. She wanted to wear a dress when she had a higher neckline to cover most of the freckles and moles on her body.

They were all over her face, so to expose other parts of her body made Clara want to hide again. She was able to cover her hands and lower arms with gloves, but her upper arms, her chest, neck…

Everyone could see what she looked like. There were people who couldn’t stop staring at the sight, and others who gave her a wide berth as if she was contagious. Clara understood why, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“Dear, you don’t look like you’ve got the pox. Trust me on that.” Eleanor’s mother placed a hand on Clara’s arm. “You look lovely in that dress. It’s your nerves that everyone is picking up on. When you’re nervous, you start scowling.”

“Do I?”

“I’ve known you for years, Clara, dear. You don’t look approachable when you’re nervous.”

Clara bit her lip. She hadn’t noticed that. Or maybe she had, and she just didn’t care. At the age of three-and-twenty, she was mostly left alone. Not that she minded as long as she had Eleanor’s attention, but even her friend would be unable to meet with her as much as possible. They were celebrating her engagement, after all.

It was a joyous occasion for everyone, and Clara was happy for her friend. But it felt like everyone was moving on with their lives, whereas Clara was stuck where she was. And nobody was helping her to move on with anything, least of all when it came to marriage prospects. Her parents had tried, but there was no interest.

Maybe William Ashworth had been right all along. She was ugly, and it was never going to happen.

“Please, Clara, put a smile on your face.” Mrs. Harrington squeezed her hand. “I worry about you.”

“Do you?”

“You hide away in the corner, and I get concerned that people are going to forget you. You don’t deserve that.”

Clara managed a wry smile and shrugged.

“Maybe I do. I mean, I’m not beautiful or engaging like Eleanor, or any of our friends.”

Mrs. Harrington snorted.

“Nonsense! You’re stunning to look at, you’re elegant, charismatic and strong-willed. Plus, you’re very talented. I don’t think I know anyone else who is like you want it comes to learning something new.”

“I suppose.”

What Clara wanted to ask was where were the potential suitors if she was considered a catch. She certainly didn’t believe the stunning part, especially when she had to look at herself in the mirror. Whatever she had when it came to her multiple talents with music and languages didn’t make up for the lack of looks.

“Anyway, I know Eleanor is happy to have you here,” Mrs. Harrington went on. “You know how much it means to her for you to be present.”

“I’m glad I can be here with her as well.”

“Then make sure you put a smile on your face and be happy for her, my dear. Eleanor will worry too much about you. You know what she’s like.”

Clara felt like that was a jab at her being in a low mood, but she tried not to let it bother her, giving Eleanor’s mother a slight smile and a nod.

“Very well, Mrs. Harrington.”

She could try and cheer herself up for the woman, at the very least. Eleanor’s parents were family friends, and they were lovely people. They didn’t mind that Clara was around Eleanor all the time, being as thick as thieves.

They accepted her for who she was, and Mrs. Harrington was always trying to get Clara to come out of her comfortable state, to try and be something new. She meant well, but it could be annoying.

Although she did better than Felicity Winthrop. Mrs. Harrington actually listened.

Moving around the edge of the room, Clara’s thoughts turned to the sketch she had been working on the previous night.

She remembered the articulate designs she had drawn on the skirt, around the bodice and the flowy sleeves. To her, it was beautiful, but a dress like that would be too much in this current society. It would make someone stand out in the wrong way, although it would draw the eye in. Clara wondered if it would ever become popular.

It was something she had a talent for. Drawing dress designs. It was fun for her to do, and Clara had an eye where she could pick out what would work on the page. She doubted any of them would see the light of day, but it was fun to do, thinking up the designs.

Maybe, one day, someone would see them, but Clara was happy to keep them to herself. Perhaps she could see something in the crowd tonight that would give her inspiration. It would keep her mind occupied.

Moving around the edge of the room, Clara took in the engagement party. Eleanor and her future husband, the heir-apparent to Baron Greenbrook, were a lovely-looking pair. As soon as she saw the two of them together, before young Fitzgerald Audley had asked Eleanor if he could court her, Clara knew the two of them would fall in love.

They were similar in their attitudes and ideals, and there was a love of life that both of them possessed. Eleanor certainly looked as if she was sparkling whenever she was around Mr. Audley. To hear they were engaged came as no surprise to Clara at all.

It would be perfect for her family. They were a family of bankers, and now Eleanor was marrying into the nobility. While her parents said they didn’t care as long as their daughter was happy, there was a sense they were pleased that Eleanor had found a good match.

“Clara!”

Clara couldn’t help but smile as Eleanor hurried over to her, her eyes shining brightly as she joined her friend. The two of them clasped hands together, and Eleanor beamed.

“I can’t believe it! There are so many people here! I didn’t think it was possible for that to happen.”

“Of course it would! You’re well-liked by everyone around you, Eleanor. Why wouldn’t people come to celebrate your engagement?”

“Even though I don’t feel like I know half of the guests?”

Clara laughed.

“You’ll be fine. I’m sure you’re going to be making everyone fall over themselves with your charm.”

“Oh, stop it.” Eleanor tilted her head to one side. “Are you all right? I noticed you hovering off to one side. If you’re uncomfortable, I won’t be upset if you…”

“If I leave? Don’t be daft, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I want to support my friend.”

Her friend’s expression showed her gratitude, squeezing Clara’s hands before releasing them. Then Eleanor looked over her shoulder at two approaching gentlemen.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I’ve got someone you should meet!”

Clara groaned.

“Don’t, Eleanor. You know I don’t want…”

“You don’t want to be introduced to someone? I know, but I promise this is just for the evening. I’m not expecting you to declare undying love at the end of the night.”

“You’d better not be expecting that.”

Eleanor laughed.

“Don’t worry, Clara. I won’t never do that to you. Anyway,” she turned to the gentleman beside Mr. Audley. “This is Anthony Rogers, Baron Parkworth. He has the estate next to Fitzgerald’s. This is my friend, Miss Clara Winthrop.”

Baron Parkworth bowed, keeping his gaze averted. Clara felt a flash of pain when he did that. Just like everyone else, he averted his gaze. It seemed to be a natural thing everyone did, and it was horrible. Clara hated that nobody could look at her properly, as if she was some sort of haggard beast. Gritting her teeth, she gave him a stiff nod.

“Baron Parkworth, good evening.”

“Miss Winthrop.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, and Clara guessed he was thinking that she was rude for not curtsying to him. But she wasn’t about to do that when he couldn’t even look at her. Rudeness toward her meant she gave it back, even if it wasn’t the right thing to do.

At this point, Clara was fed up with it.

“I’ve been talking to Baron Parkworth about you, Clara,” Eleanor went on, seeming to act as if she didn’t see the immediate tension between them. “He was keen to meet with you.”

“Oh, really now?” Clara raised her eyebrows. “And what exactly did you tell him about me?”

“I said you were a talented musician who could speak several languages, and you were probably the most well-read woman I’d ever met.” Eleanor sounded very proud when she said all of them. “That you were the best type of person possible.”

Clara could believe that, but she was also sure that Eleanor had over-exaggerated a bit as well. She had a habit of doing that in the past, and it could get a little embarrassing. It was quite nice that someone spoke highly of her, although it could make Clara squirm a bit. With the way she looked, it felt like a letdown to gentlemen who came across her.

“Why don’t you two have a dance?” Eleanor suggested. “We’re about to dance ourselves, so you could join us.”

“I don’t know…” Clara began.

“You’re a far better dancer than I am. You should show Baron Parkworth what you’re like on the dancefloor.”

Clara didn’t want to. She could dance, but she didn’t like it. That meant interacting with other people, and also made her aware that people didn’t want to dance with her.

She hated that people were judged based on their attractiveness. She wished it was different because it was horrible for her. And from the look on Baron Parkworth’s face, he would rather she turned him down.

She was trying, but Eleanor wasn’t about to take no for an answer. And this was her evening; Clara didn’t want to spoil it. Biting back a sigh, she fixed a smile on her face.

“Why not? Lead the way, Eleanor.”

Looking pleased, Eleanor and Mr. Audley walked away arm-in-arm. That left Clara with Baron Parkworth, and he was still not looking at her. She doubted he had actually looked at her properly. The man seemed to think she was not worth his attention. What Eleanor was thinking, she had no idea, but her aim to find a potential suitor for her friend was off. Again.

Squaring her shoulders and holding her head high, Clara stepped around the baron and followed Eleanor to where the dancing was happening. She was not going to allow any gentleman to treat her like that. She might not be as attractive as Society dictated, but she knew her worth. If he didn’t care to know her, that was nothing to do with her.

As she lined up beside Eleanor, Baron Parkworth appeared across from her, his expression blank. Now he was actually looking at her, and his eyes traveled over her bare skin, seeing the sight of the marks left on her body due to her freckles.

Clara felt the sudden urge to cover up, but she wasn’t going to back down. She would not show her discomfort in front of him.

If he didn’t like it, she would have to put up with it for now. And then ask Eleanor to stop matching her with potential suitors when it wasn’t happening.

They began to dance. Baron Parkworth was good on his feet, and he could keep in time, but he was incredibly stiff. Clara tried to show that it didn’t bother her, carrying on as normal. She didn’t need to talk to the man to know that he had an opinion of her already and they hadn’t even spoken beyond the introduction. He saw her as a fortune hunter.

Normally, that would make her bristle, but Clara had been there plenty of times before. She knew others believed she was someone looking for a title and wealth, even if it didn’t appeal to her.

She was stuck in an unfortunate category, and she couldn’t get out of it.

After what felt like an age, the dance finally finished, and the dancers clapped politely for the orchestra playing. Eleanor turned to Clara and clasped her hand.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“What?”

“Of Baron Parkworth? Do you think he’s attractive?”

Clara didn’t think so, but she took another look at the man as he talked to Mr. Audley. Tall, fair hair and a moustache, high cheekbones and chiseled features. He was handsome, and he cut a fine figure, but there was nothing there. Clara didn’t feel a flutter of anything at all. Except maybe annoyance that he had judged her before they had even said anything to each other.

“There’s no point in asking if he’s attractive, Eleanor.” Clara gestured at her face. “He didn’t like the look of this.”

Eleanor sighed.

“Clara, you have to try and find someone.”

“Just because you’ve found yourself someone you want to spend the rest of your life with doesn’t mean you need to help me find a gentleman.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

Clara rolled her eyes. She pulled her hand from her friend.

“I love you, Eleanor, but you really need to stop it. Baron Parkworth already thinks that I’m after his money. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye.”

“But he seemed so eager to meet you, though.”

“You didn’t tell him what I looked like, did you?”

“That shouldn’t be the deciding factor when you get to meet someone.”

“Unfortunately, with me, that’s definitely a deciding factor.”

Clara felt someone touch her on the shoulder, and immediately she felt her skin prickle. A shiver spread down her spine, and she froze. Somehow, she knew who was standing behind her. The years hadn’t ebbed that feeling.

Her heart pounding, she turned and saw a tall, dark-haired gentleman with the brightest green eyes she had ever seen behind her. He seemed far taller than she remembered, and Clara had to tilt her head back just to look at him. His shoulders were broad, as was his chest. He was clean-shaven, leaving his strong jawline free of a beard.

He looked different, but there was no mistaking those green eyes. Clara had seen them plenty of times over the years, usually mocking her and finding amusement in upsetting her.

Even his voice, deeper than she recalled, left her feeling the same sensations as before.

“Evening, Hen. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Of all the evenings to run into William Ashworth, it had to be that night.