Page 24 of For the Love of Clover (Breaking the Rules of the Beau Monde #4)

CHAPTER 24

A s Clover left Hugo behind, she wondered if she would miss him. She wondered if they had spent enough time together to form that kind of bond. She wondered if he would miss her or find his familiar solitude comforting.

By the time she and Evelyn reached the outskirts of the city, there was one thing Clover missed. She missed the overly jovial smile he’d been wearing since he told her about the trip. A small part of her wished he would have come. But a more significant part of her was happy to meet his family without a mediator. The trip seemed to make him nervous, and she wondered if he didn’t wish to see them at all. It was one more mystery about the man and their strange marriage. A forced wedding wasn’t so unusual amongst the ton . But the way theirs had come about had left her feeling confused.

“Evelyn, thank you for coming with me. I don’t think Darrington would have allowed it otherwise.”

“I was happy to offer. And look at this coach. It’s simply gorgeous. Darrington said your brother picked it out.”

“Kingsley thought the interior would make me feel as if I still had choices because I’m certain Hugo would not have chosen powder pink. Anyway, it must be destiny because here we are, best of friends, both dressed in burgundy traveling costumes that complement the seats. Who can tell us apart?” she teased.

“You’re the one wearing spectacles, and I’m the one wearing a hat.”

Clover laughed for the truth of it. “I was wearing neither this morning when Darrington settled me into the coach. He ran back into the house and grabbed the eyeglasses and the hat. Actually ran, Evelyn. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move so fast. When he got to the coach, he threw the hat on the seat and instructed me not to wear it because he knows how much I hate them. And then he placed the eyeglasses on my nose and fixed the hair over my shoulders.”

“He’s going to miss you. I just know it.”

“Perhaps. He’s very busy right now. He plans to spend all his time with Kingsley and Rochester while I’m gone. He promised not to participate in a pugilist match until I return, though.” She couldn’t help the little leap in her chest that he would wish to wait for her.

“Do you know you smile every time you talk about him?” Evelyn gazed at her thoughtfully.

“I do not.” Clover blushed despite her denial.

“You do. Sometimes it’s a sad smile, but it’s a smile, nonetheless.” Evelyn took off her hat and placed it on the seat opposite Clover’s. “Do you love him?” Evelyn asked while she busied herself, patting her hair back into place.

Clover couldn’t understand how someone could look so beautiful all the time. Evelyn was a masterpiece. Even her hair obeyed. Unlike Clover’s. Whenever she removed a hat, her hair went to pieces like a haystack in the wind. The color even resembled the metaphor. “It’s too early in the trip to discuss something so baffling as love. When did you know you loved Rochester?” The coach was so new and well-sprung that Clover hardly heard the tack jingle.

“When he was standing on the sidelines at my come out. Do you remember them? Winn, Rochester, and Darrington showing up at Almack’s? They nearly made me swoon, for the shock of it, mind you.”

“I think your brother was so taken with Adeline then that he convinced Darrington and Rochester to attend him.”

“He did the same at your Christmas party. I dare say his marriage to Adeline was nicely wrapped up that weekend.”

Clover bit her lip. “I believe you’re right. When was your marriage wrapped up and made a certainty?”

“When I fell out my window in the middle of the night right into Rochester’s arms. It’s a wonder he spoke to me at all after that stunt.”

“How could he resist?”

“He did try,” Evelyn said, with a wicked smile curving her lips.

Clover watched the countryside. The green bowing grass, forever wet with dew and mist at this time of year, waved at them like they were an important procession. It reminded her how significant this trip was. “You and Addy have such a wonderful love story to tell.”

“Scandalous ones, to be true.”

“I’ve managed the scandal part easily enough, but the love match…” She shook her head, unable to say more.

“The love match is there. Any fool can see that.”

“Then I wish I were a fool. Although I feel as if I’ve played that hand already, too.” She took a deep breath. “Did you know he kissed me in a secret garden at Mrs. LaDow’s weekend party?”

“It sounds beautiful.”

Clover looked at her friend, pretending for a moment that she was right. “He kissed me again in the Pleasure Gardens while I was backed up against a tree. That kiss is what culminated in a wedding. I suspect Kingsley was there spying on me.”

“And the duke didn’t kill Darrington?”

“No doubt he didn’t know about the wagers at the time. But I did. I went there to confront Hugo.”

“And you fell in love instead.”

Clover shut her eyes against the tears she felt building. “Perhaps. The truth is I don’t know anymore. He made me forget where we were. The trees were a hushed whisper overhead telling me it was real, and Evelyn, I could have stayed there forever. Sometimes, I wonder if the wagers hadn’t happened if we would have found each other at the altar.”

Evelyn remained quiet, her gaze sympathetic and supportive. She listened without opinion or judgment.

Clover took off her spectacles, retrieved the little velvet pouch they came in, and placed them inside. “They give me the headache, sometimes. Hugo insists I wear them because I missed acknowledging him across a ballroom more than once.”

Evelyn’s laughter cheered the air. “Did you tell him about Mr. Franklin?”

Clover nodded, joining in with a chuckle. “These”—she held up the drawstring pouch with the eyeglasses—“were the second gift he gave me. Can you imagine? He walked me into a jeweler’s without a word and guided me straight to the glass counter with a dozen eye pieces lying atop. He bribed me with a trip to the boxing club.”

Evelyn sucked in a breath. “You went? Oh, Clover. Don’t you see, he does love you. Why would he risk such a thing if he did not?”

“We kissed there, too,” she said shyly. Evelyn’s dreams were more optimistic than Clover’s.

“What was the first gift he gave you?”

“A pair of lace gloves because I managed to smear a bit of Darrington’s blood on them when he scraped his hand in the maze. Evelyn? Do you think Hugo is embarrassed of me? Or his family? He doesn’t like to speak of them. He didn’t even seem upset they didn’t make it to the wedding. I don’t know what you said to him, but I thank you for it because I fear I might have never met them otherwise. Darrington said he couldn’t get away until after the winter thaw and didn’t encourage me to write them. He seemed overly concerned about me meeting them, especially his father.”

“Rochester says Darrington’s father is eccentric. Perhaps that’s his fear.”

“The man makes music boxes. He sounds lovely to me, but Hugo has expressed several times how his family’s welfare is on his shoulders. He carries an emotional load I don’t think people are aware of. He didn’t deserve to be saddled with me. I ruined his best plans.”

“I don’t get that impression. In fact, I believe he cares very much for you. Why else would he chance to ask Rochester for a word with me?”

Clover breathed in the new coach with its thickly tufted pink squabs mingled with the scent of rain like a fresh start. Like the future. “He’s very attracted to me. That’s as much as I can say. It’s all I can say about our relationship. It could be worse, I suppose. We could hate each other. My fear is when the infatuation wears off we will hate each other.”

“Passion burns at both ends. As long as you’re not somewhere in the middle, there’s hope. Besides, I don’t believe for one minute you are only infatuated with him. I saw you dance at your Christmas party two years ago. Dressed like Sleeping Beauty. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Keep that thought close and don’t give up on me.”

Evelyn reached across the seats and squeezed her hand. “Never.”

“Now, tell me again how you and Rochester manage to avoid having children.”

Evelyn blushed, choking on a laugh.

“That’s what you said when we were visiting with Adeline. ‘Not the way Rochester does it’ were your exact words.”

“It’s messy business. Need I say more?” Evelyn’s cheeks competed nicely with her burgundy outfit.

Clover giggled, a sure sign she was feeling like herself. “Say no more. I’ll ask Darrington.”

“Don’t you dare,” Evelyn said on a gasp. “He’ll wonder why.”

“Then I suggest you start talking.”

Evelyn bit her lip. “Well, he doesn’t finish.”

“At all?” Clover couldn’t imagine Hugo would wish to sacrifice his own pleasure, although he’d taken care of her often enough.

“Oh, heavens, Clover. Don’t make me say it out loud.”

Clover waved a hand. “It’s all right. I’ll just ask my husband.”

“Do not.” Evelyn closed her eyes and rushed on. “He does not finish inside me.” She peeked one eye open.

“It makes perfect sense. I don’t believe we’ve tried that yet.” Clover was truly intrigued. She wanted children. For goodness’ sake, she could be carrying one now for all she knew. But such a trick would come in handy between children, surely.

“Clover, since we’re having this candid discussion, tell me something. Are you enjoying it?”

Clover’s brow creased. “Am I supposed to not enjoy it?”

Evelyn shrugged. “I think some women don’t. I’ve heard some wives are relieved when their husbands stray or keep a mistress.”

“Truly? If it were me, I would use everything my husband has taught me about throwing a punch and cuff him in the eye and, perhaps, somewhere lower.” She raised her brows for emphasis.

“He may rue the day he taught you that,” Evelyn said while laughing. She cleared her throat. “Do you want children?”

“Yes. Eventually. But first, I’d like to give us time to figure out where our feelings lie. My hope is his family will help me understand him better because most of our conversations are superficial. His answers seem guarded. We’re both careful not to hurt the other. Everything is a question, and all the answers are appropriately timed, each word weighed, the mood examined so much that truth has become static and unreliable. I fear if we keep on like this, we will be lucky to hold a friendship tight.”

“You just need time to give it a chance to bloom. That’s all. As for family, it can be complicated. Rochester and my father walk on pins and needles, and Rochester’s father is on the mend from a lifetime of hate.”

“I’m afraid if we have a family too early we’ll never find each other, and I’ll be destined to live out the real Sleeping Beauty’s fate. I feel as if I’m asleep, Evelyn.”

“Absence is great fertilizer.”

“Like manure?” Clover comically flared her eyes.

After dropping Evelyn at her father’s, Clover missed the company. The ride to Dovetail Manor took another hour, and the silence devoured and undermined her confidence. She began to question the wisdom of showing up alone at her in-law’s home. Hugo had sent a letter ahead of her, but there was no way to know if it arrived in time.

When the coach pulled off the main road and took a private lane, she wrestled her hat onto her head and fought with the ribbons under her chin. She smiled, remembering how Hugo had pulled a finger through the knot of her bonnet in the Pleasure Gardens and whipped it from her head. He had placed it between them. She felt as if it was still there, a barrier to her happily ever after if such a thing existed.

They passed an empty gatehouse, and minutes later, the coach rounded a well-paved circular drive, which put her at the front door. The lawns were neatly manicured. She could imagine, in spring, the colorful blooms of flora that would complement the lush green hedgerow following the front steps from the drive to the door. The simple taupe bricks were made more beautiful by the stark white of the window casements. A magnificent sheen of burgundy red paint, a color that rivaled her traveling suit, covered the large front door.

Mr. Gale helped her up the steps and pulled the brass knocker. Clover waited, her heart hammering away like an overzealous woodpecker. She licked her lips as the heavy door opened. A tall man with blond hair that must have once been red stood in front of them, the look of a butler about his unflappable countenance.

“Mrs. Hugo Darrington,” Mr. Gale said with a short bow.

The butler’s surprise showed only in the raise of one bushy eyebrow. The door swung wide, and while Mr. Gale held back, Clover followed the butler to a formal parlor that overlooked the front lawns. She stood in the middle of the room, unsure for the first time in her life how to go about the introductions. Pastel yellow silk covered the walls, matching the furnishings and curtains. Simple but elegant would be her description.

“Lady Clover,” a woman rushed into the room, her hands gathered, her eyes wide. “We expected you tomorrow. I would have had my staff waiting for you.” The woman whose brown hair had streaks of gray strode toward Clover. “Forgive me, I’m Hugo’s mother, Mrs. Catherine Darrington.”

Clover supposed that much, but she smiled with relief, nonetheless. “Mrs. Darrington, I apologize for the early arrival. I assumed the post had the correct information.”

“Not to worry, I’m glad you’re here.” Mrs. Darrington gathered Clover’s hands, making an arc with her arms. “Look how beautiful you are. I admit I never thought my Hugo would marry. We are thrilled beyond knowing. And I imagine you’re a bit overwhelmed.” Mrs. Darrington motioned to the settee. “Please sit, refreshments are coming.”

Clover gladly removed her hat and sat next to Hugo’s mother. The refreshments came with a gaggle of young women. Three, to be exact, looking suspiciously like Hugo’s sisters. Phoebe, who was married, was the oldest of the girls, with the same nut-brown hair as the rest of the family, including Hugo. Then came Emma, who looked to be old enough for a Season, and Grace, a couple of years younger than Emma.

“We’ve made up Hugo’s room for you. I hope it suits. I’ve assigned a maid to look after you while you’re here.”

“I’m certain it’s all perfect.”

“Is there a babe yet?” Grace asked, an innocent excitement about her. “I cannot wait to be an aunt, and Phoebe has not blessed us yet.”

“Grace,” her mother admonished. “The question is inappropriate no matter the company.”

Emma rolled her eyes, and Phoebe gave Clover an apologetic smile with a hint of humor behind it.

“I don’t mind, truly,” Clover said. “None that I’m aware of, Grace. But you will be the first to know.”

The maid, Charlotte, greeted her as she was shown to Hugo’s room. It looked like him, with dark-walnut furnishings and a bed frame with a high, carved headboard. It was surprisingly made cheery by a sky-blue coverlet that matched the small settee before the fireplace. She settled herself on the settee, allowing Charlotte to help with unpacking, and then fell upon the bed when the maid left.

Although the room looked like Hugo, it didn’t smell like him. It smelled of wood polish and aired fabric. By the time she changed clothes, the sun was setting, and dinner was called. Never had she been at a table with so many family members. It had been just her and Stratford for too long. She tried to imagine it as a party, but Grace’s excitement kept her focused and present where she should be.

“Are you really the sister of a duke?” Grace asked. Clover had assured her and Mrs. Darrington that she welcomed the questions. Clover knew too well what it was like not to have answers.

“I am a duke’s sister and now the wife of your brother, a very prominent man.”

“Hugo could be an earl someday. Is that why you married him?” Grace continued.

Phoebe interjected, “Grace, take some time to quiet yourself. Lady Clover will be here tomorrow.”

Clover smiled and winked at Grace. In truth, she was relieved to escape answering the question of why she married Hugo. It was possible his family did not know. “Grace, would you like to call me Clover? We are sisters by law, after all. And my friends don’t use titles.”

Grace looked to her mother, who nodded her approval.

Clover missed meeting Hugo’s father, and no one spoke of him or made excuses for his absence. She wanted to meet him but wasn’t sure how to go about it. If Hugo’s fears were valid, she wondered if she would ever meet him. Manners told her not to ask, but her heart was willing to take the chance. This man was the reason Hugo worked so hard.