Page 10 of For the Love of Clover (Breaking the Rules of the Beau Monde #4)

CHAPTER 10

C lover had questions. Evelyn had answers.

She did her best to put Hugo Darrington out of her mind. The shock of finding him standing with her brother in the parlor challenged her composure, and by the time she turned to leave, she was out of breath. Hopefully, it hadn’t shown. Excitement was the word. Or fear. Swallowing the familiarity she had enjoyed with Mr. Darrington was not an easy task, but she didn’t care to put Stratford on alert. There was certainly nothing between her and Mr. Darrington except an inappropriate conversation before a fountain, a search for a private garden, and a quick lesson on throwing a punch.

No, nothing but that.

Not to mention the gloves. If they were, in fact, from Mr. Darrington.

“I’m so relieved you were home to guests,” Clover told Evelyn twenty minutes after the uncomfortable conversation with her brother.

“I’m always home to you,” Evelyn said as she showed Clover to the drawing room with beautiful wainscotting. The room had a cozy, warm aesthetic. The foyer, however, was the real appeal, with a high ceiling painted with a blue medallion and the Tree of Life at its center. One could get lost looking at it.

“Rochester has done so much to the place since last I was here. Or was it you?”

Evelyn looked about the room. “This room was one of the few rooms finished and furnished when we married. But in the last several weeks, I’ve been putting my own touches to it. New curtains a brighter shade of burgundy. Another chair by the window for reading during the day or simply watching passersby. Then there are the bouquets of flowers I keep fresh in the foyer and elsewhere. Regardless, Rochester is the one who is good with details. He’s the real mind behind the décor. Although, I admit to taking over the green parlor. You know, the one Rochester insists is puce? I asked him if I might enlist a professional to help. I won’t say there was a small argument. But”—she raised a finger—“there was a small argument.” Evelyn smiled sheepishly, raising her brows for good measure. “Whether the room remains green is still undecided. I have a side wager with his cousin, Lovie Remington, to see who wins.”

“Which side does Mrs. Remington favor?”

“Me, of course. We women must stick together.”

Clover frowned over the word wager, wishing the tea Evelyn had ordered was available to hide her worry behind.

Evelyn stretched out a hand and gently squeezed Clover’s arm. “What is it?”

“Nothing really.” This was not the time to kiss and tell about the maze, or the garden, or the ball. Lord, the moments with Mr. Darrington were adding up. She gathered her thoughts. “I came to you because you are the only one I can trust with my questions.”

“Excuse me, my lady,” the housekeeper said. “But the goose is honking.”

Clover looked from the formal housekeeper to Evelyn. Confusion riddled the housekeeper’s forehead with wrinkles.

“Let her out, Mrs. Nithercott. Otherwise, the neighbors will complain again. She won’t fly off if you leave feed for her. I’ll take care of our tea.”

“Right away.” The housekeeper backed out of the room. When she was clear of the door, Clover heard the short tap of hurrying feet.

Clover looked to Evelyn. “A goose?”

“Oh, yes. Rochester gifted me a goose, but we can’t keep her here much longer. She’ll eventually live at Heavenly House with Rochester’s brother.”

Clover nodded as if that all made perfect sense. She sighed, throwing herself into a rather uncomfortable smile.

“Now, what manner of questions?” Evelyn picked up the conversation where they’d left it before the goose incident.

“Personal ones. Secret things.” Clover leaned in and whispered the last part.

Evelyn moved back. “I see. Perhaps we should go somewhere more private.”

Clover looked over her shoulder, then nodded. They took the stairs, and Clover followed Evelyn into her boudoir. She had never seen this room.

“It’s gorgeous,” Clover gushed in awe. A coverlet of rich royal blue crushed velvet made up the large four-poster bed. A lovely settee that matched the gold curtains was angled in front of a small hearth. “You have beautiful taste.”

“Oh, this isn’t my work.” Evelyn invited her to sit at the settee. “I’ll get our refreshments, and we can have a nice talk here.”

“No. No. Just sit with me.” Clover patted the cushion beside her. If she thought too long, she was liable to lose her nerve. “Did your decorator do this room?”

“Rochester did this room.” Evelyn spread her palms out, indicating the entire suite.

“He is very good at it. I suppose you approved, then?”

“I could do little else since it was finished long before I got here. Honestly, I loved it the first time I saw it.”

Clover’s eyes widened, and her jaw went slack. It was possible Evelyn had just answered one of her questions. She pulled off her lace gloves while breathing in another look at the magnificent surroundings. “Is your room on the other side of one of these doors, or did Rochester give you this one?” She thought she knew the answer but wanted Evelyn to confirm.

“There’s a nice wardrobe behind that one.” Evelyn pointed to the left side of the room. “And a new wardrobe being built behind this one.” She pointed to the right side of the room. “And later, I want a bathing room.”

“Rochester stays in this room with you?”

Evelyn nodded. A huge smile dimpled her cheeks. “You might say I stay in here with him since he was here first. Besides, we have far too many house guests coming and going for me to take up another room.”

“I see. So, if you lived in a larger estate, like Rochester’s country manor, you’d have your own rooms?”

“There would be rooms aplenty, but I wouldn’t sleep anywhere but with my husband.”

“I didn’t know if there were wives who did that. My parents had separate accommodations. And Kingsley…” Clover stopped abruptly. “I know Stratford has a mistress, but she lives elsewhere.”

“He’s told you that?”

“No. He’s silent as the grave. But you don’t live in the same house with someone and not know some of their secrets, even ones kept so close to the hip.” Clover grimaced. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Are these the things you wished to speak in private about?”

Clover nodded.

“Have you set your sights on someone then?” Evelyn’s brow raised. Hope shone in her eyes.

“No.” Clover turned away, her gaze drawn to the large bed.

“Then what has you asking about bedrooms?” The question was not condemning. If anything, Evelyn sounded concerned. “What’s your secret, Clover? You can trust me, you know. I have done my share of scandalous deeds.”

“Nothing like that.” She bit her lip. “What I mean is, not to say you have done anything scandalous, just after the conversation with you and Addy, it got me wondering about such things.” She turned her eyes toward the ceiling and plowed ahead. “This morning, as I was lying awake in bed, I wondered if I would have to share it with someone. Eventually, I mean. Not now.”

“Did that someone have warm brown hair and green flashing eyes?”

Clover snuck a peek at Evelyn. “They’re more like turquoise in the right light.”

Evelyn sat perfectly still, as if she feared the slightest move would send Clover running from the room.

“And it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“What am I thinking?”

“That I fancy Hugo Darrington.”

Evelyn tilted her head. “You have always fancied Darrington. Are you going to deny it now? To me?”

Clover closed her eyes and blew out a slow breath. “It’s rather complicated.”

“It usually is, believe me.”

“I wouldn’t normally have thought so, but I had an unusual conversation with him not long ago. A rather fun one, actually.” She chuckled uncomfortably. “Not at all what I’m used to.”

“You mean not what you’re used to with a man. Because Clover Dunhurst, I know you, and you are not the timid little thing people assume you are.”

“He called me a mouse.”

Evelyn burst into laughter. “How sweet.”

“You think so?” Clover was too shocked to filter what she said at this point.

“Rochester calls me goose.”

“Oh, now it makes sense. The goose. He bought you a goose.” Clover giggled, bringing a hand to her mouth, her gloves still clasped in them. The moment she took a breath, with the lace gloves right under her nose, bay rum flooded her senses, and heat flooded her cheeks.

“Rochester is thoughtful, but one would think he’d have given me jewelry.”

“No.” Clover shook her head, sobering a little. “The goose is perfect.”

“I think so, too. And how would you accept a mouse?” Evelyn slipped off her shoes. She turned in her seat, folding her legs beneath her as she lay an arm across the backrest of the settee, wholly engrossed in the conversation.

“Not at all. I’m not fond of rodents.”

“And Darrington? Is he fond of you?”

“Perhaps, in a funny friend sort of way.” She took a deep breath to clear her head. “Two weeks ago, we attended the same house party. Mrs. LaDow and Kingsley are friends, and he thought it might be a nice diversion for me. I’m afraid it was more than that.”

“Mrs. LaDow’s parties are generally for a faster crowd.”

“Exactly. She did her best to keep an eye on me, and when the other guests were playing their little games, Mrs. LaDow gave me a map of the hedge maze.”

“I’ve heard it’s beautiful and lost-worthy for couples.”

“I used the map to find a secret place, closed off from everyone. I used it as a reprieve.”

“Did you not have fun?”

“Too much fun. And that’s the problem.”

“Darrington was there, wasn’t he?”

Clover nodded. “I believe he felt it his duty to watch over me since he and my brother are partners in one venture or another. We ended up in the secret garden together for reasons I’d rather not explain right now. Nothing untoward, I promise.”

“That’s too bad. I should think something untoward with Darrington is exactly what you’re looking for. Perhaps even what you need.” Evelyn gave her a little pinch on the shoulder.

“Evelyn. Of course, it isn’t. We had a nice time.”

“And that’s why you’re dreaming of him in your bed, I suppose?”

Clover rolled her eyes shut. “It was the conversation with you that put him there.”

Evelyn bit her lip, a smile blooming around it. “I’ll allow that, but in return, you must tell me what happened.” It was a request, not a command. Evelyn truly seemed interested and excited.

“Darrington caught up with me in the maze, and we had a funny discussion about the fountain and the statues. Very innocent. But then a couple of men, strangers to me, showed up and ruined it all.”

“And they saw you alone?”

“No, thank goodness. We hid behind the shrubs until they were gone. But they were beastly drunk and said dark things about me. Of making a conquest of me.” She looked at her hands. “Making fun of my virtue,” she finished quietly.

“And Darrington didn’t leap out and pummel them?” Evelyn had the perfect amount of disgust and anger on her behalf.

Clover gave a nervous chirp. “You have sort of brought me to the question I’ve come to ask.”

“How?”

“The men were horrible. True. And Darrington wanted to kill them. True. But I wouldn’t allow it because there would have been a terrible scandal. It wasn’t worth it. However, we ended up escaping to the secret garden, which was a scandal in itself. And you must promise not to tell Rochester because if Kingsley found out, we’d be in the soup.”

Evelyn nodded heartily. Then she impatiently waved her on. “And?”

“And we discussed many things. We formed an alliance of sorts, a trust. Then I saw him recently at another ball.” Clover leaned in to whisper as if a maid might chance by. “He showed me how to throw a punch.”

Evelyn sat straight and raised her brows.

“And I begged him to take me to the boxing club.”

“Oh, Lord.”

“You’ve been there. It can’t be all that bad, and I want to see a match, but Hugo refused me.”

“Hugo, is it?”

“Evelyn, listen. Let’s not get caught up on semantics. You went undercover, yes?”

“Yes. But out of necessity, you understand.”

“The why doesn’t matter. What matters is you did it, and it’s possible.”

“And if he got caught, then what?”

She shrugged, sighing because Clover knew her friend was making perfect sense. “I know you’re right.”

“His Grace would throw him out as a business partner and never look back. Is it worth that?”

“No, it’s not.”

“May I speak candidly?”

Clover reached over and took Evelyn’s hand. “Always.”

“For one, if the daft man hasn’t kissed you yet, he’s a fool. And two, I think you’re confusing excitement for seeing Mr. Darrington with wanting to see him box. It’s far easier to make the passion more respectable by burying it beneath an activity which has nothing to do with feelings. Because, my dear, you have feelings for him. And that is not a secret.”

Clover sat back, defeated. “I know. I have wicked feelings for him.” She let her head loll back against the cushion. “And I don’t want them. His life is all planned, and I’m almost certain it doesn’t include a courtship. And if I’m being perfectly honest, I’m not looking for one. I have never been allowed to plan anything at all, and I don’t want a husband to lord over me, making plans for me. I want to do something important. My entire existence has been groomed for marrying well and securing a future not only for myself but one that keeps our family name untarnished.”

Evelyn scratched her head. “That is a pickle.”

“I want to see a pugilist fight. Please ask Rochester if he might take me with you.”

“There is not a circumstance that exists in which Dalton would consider it. He just about lost his friendship with Winn over me. Brothers and sisters are complex.”

Winn Markham, Addy’s husband, was Evelyn’s brother, and Clover knew Evelyn and Rochester’s courtship had not been an easy one. She was right. Darrington would lose his business contacts if, for some reason, Kingsley came to know of her innocent involvement with Darrington.

“Promise me this, Evelyn. If, for some reason, Darrington is given permission to show me the club, you and Rochester will join us. Think of the fun we would have.”

“Agreed. But I wouldn’t wager on it happening.”

Clover looked at her hands. She fumbled with the gloves. “Not a wager, please.” Suddenly, she wanted to cry. “Evelyn?”

“Oh, my sweet friend, what is it?” So much was wrapped up in that one sentence. So much love and care and all the things Clover needed just now.

“The awful men in the maze wagered on me.” She peeked at her friend. “Everything from a kiss to a plucking, as one put it.”

Evelyn looked dumbfounded. “Did Mr. Darrington hear that part?”

Clover nodded. “He heard all of it.”

“Good Lord, you should have let him bury a fist in their bone boxes.”

Clover’s usual, silly, annoying giggle turned into full laughter. She leaned into Evelyn and hugged her. “You’re the best of friends. I’m not sure what I’d do without you and Adeline.”

Evelyn sat back and held Clover by the shoulders, locking eye contact. “We are all together in this race. This world cannot contain the sheer solid foundation of such a friendship. I promise you that. But if you hear another man say foul things again, you take everything Darrington taught you and lay them low.”

Clover threw on a wide smile, just imagining punching their beady little eyes until they were swollen shut. “Perhaps Darrington would give me another lesson. What say you?” She asked sheepishly, without any real intent.

“I would safely guess he would do anything for you. Why don’t you send Darrington a note.” Evelyn had written a series of notes to Rochester before they courted.

Clover gave her a dubious look. “How did that work for you?”

Evelyn scanned the room. “I’m here,” she said with a challenging upswing to her voice.

“I don’t want to marry him. We’re simply friends. I want him to take me to Strong’s.”

“Try the note.”

For several days, Clover kept vigil on Darrington’s appointments with her brother. The visits increased as their partnership was honed on two specific investors.

She purposely made herself seen whenever he dropped in. Once, she even slipped in to watch Darrington and Stratford play a game of billiards. But in every instance, Mr. Darrington took no real notice of her. He politely greeted her when need be, but he never looked her way or engaged her in conversation the few times she’d been close enough for one. He seemed cold. Distant. And she knew it was unfair to judge him so because her demeanor was similar.

She finally agreed to Evelyn’s tactic and wrote a note, which she surreptitiously passed from Esther to Mr. Lorry, a trusted footman, for delivery when Mr. Darrington called again.