Regency Rakes 02 - Rescued By A Viscount (6 page)

“Oh, Mathew and I have known each other for years,” Simon said with a perfectly straight face. It was not, strictly speaking, a lie; after all, they had known of each other for years–they had just rarely conversed.

“He may not be there, and then you’ll have to take tea with me and Claire until I’m ready to leave.”

“I’m sure Georgia will keep me company, won’t you darling?”

The little girl gave him a smile that displayed one tooth and pink gums. She then grabbed his necktie and tugged.

“Very well, but you will be in no fit state to visit if you let her keep doing that,” Eva said, urging him out to the carriage.

“Dare I enquire as to why, Kelkirk, you are getting into a carriage with my duchess and daughter?”
Simon looked up and saw Daniel standing on the small balcony above him. Georgia squealed when she saw her father, who, in turn, pulled a funny face.

“The better man has finally won, your grace.”

“He is trying to avoid Grandmother, therefore he is accompanying me to visit Claire,” Eva said from beside him.

“I thought you had the same relationship with Claire that you had with my grandmother.” Daniel looked over his shoulder to make sure his elderly relation had not followed him outside.

“Claire and I are friends,” Daniel said defensively as Georgia undid another fold on his necktie and then stuffed it into her mouth.

“No you’re not,” the duke and duchess said in unison. “In fact,” Daniel added, looking smug, “I believe she said you made her feel like she was wearing a hair shirt.”

“Did she say that?” Simon removed his necktie from Georgia’s mouth, but she just fixed her gums on one of the buttons of his jacket.

“For pity’s sake, man, everyone knows it. You two are like two stray cats when you are near each other, all hackles and hissing.” The duke now leaned on the balcony, obviously enjoying his friend’s discomfort.

“Rubbish,” Simon said. “Claire and I are always polite to each other. We are friends.”

“Polite, yes—friendly, no.”

“Ah well, the rest of society loves me, Stratton, so I’m sure I shall cope without Miss Belmont’s adoration.”

The duke snorted at that. “I don’t adore you, and I’m pretty sure my wife only tolerates you.”

“Don’t listen to him, Simon. Of course we both adore you.” Eva patted his hand.

“Dukes do not yell in the streets, Grandson. Must I constantly remind you of your position in society? With whom are you conversing in such a loud voice?” The Dowager Duchess of Stratton appeared behind her grandson.

“He is sadly lacking in manners, your grace. Please have stern words with him whilst we depart,” Simon said, acknowledging the elderly lady with a bow that made Georgia giggle as he tipped her upside down then righted her again.

“Goodbye, Grandmother,” Eva said as Simon urged her into the carriage and climbed in behind her.

“Look after my women!”

Simon lifted a hand at the duke’s words, and then a footman shut the door behind them.

“Lady Carmichael told me Miss Lydia Simpett has eloped, Claire. Of course her father is refuting the claim and saying she is laid low with a stomach ailment, but Lady Carmichael is quite sure of the accuracy behind the rumor.”

Murmuring the appropriate response, Claire let her mother rattle on as she did most mornings at the breakfast table. Mathew, of course, was buried in the paper.

Claire had not slept well. Upon returning from the ball, she’d washed and changed into her nightdress. She’d then brushed her hair and sipped the tea Plimley had left for her, going through the preparing-for-sleep rituals she had been enacting since Anthony’s death. Her bed had been turned down and the lavender scented sheets should have been inviting, yet upon climbing into bed, she had felt her body grow rigid. All tiredness had suddenly fled as thoughts bombarded her.

Relax, Claire–deep breaths
, she’d reminded herself when her thoughts had gone to Anthony and what he had left in France. Closing her eyes, she had willed herself to sleep, but restfulness hadn’t come, so she’d tried to occupy her mind with thoughts other than her inability to sleep. She’d counted all the people who’d worn purple at the ball, including Lady Bellwater, whose dress had been a nasty, violent shade that clashed horribly with her orange slippers. Then she’d recalled all her dance partners, of which there were many, due to her determination to avoid Simon. That thought had made her think about Simon and why he was so intent on finding out the reasons for her behavior today. Eventually, after forcing herself to lie in the dark, she had thrown back the covers and stalked from her room into the next one. Plimley had, as usual, laid the fire and placed a lamp. Choosing a book she had already read twice before, Claire then lay on the sofa and dozed and read for the remainder of the night until the sun began to rise. She had then slipped outside and walked through the gardens, inhaling the coming day and the clean fresh scent of nature. It was out there she missed her brother the most.

When Anthony was sick, they had sat in the gardens for hours, especially to watch the sun rise. She would wrap him in blankets and they would walk slowly about until, exhausted, he would sit and say, ‘Go to bed now, Claire, I can manage,’ to which she always shook her head and then laid it on his shoulder, and together, they would silently wait for the new day to arrive.

“You look tired this morning, Claire. Did you not sleep well?”

Pulled from her thoughts by her brother’s voice, Claire looked across at Mathew. He usually never conversed in the morning—well, at least until he had finished reading his paper. She searched for her mother and noted she had left the room while Claire had been deep in thought. “All you have said to me in the past two days, Mathew, is how tired I look,” Claire said, keeping her tone light.

“Perhaps that is because you keep swallowing a yawn when you think I’m not looking.”

Her family did not know she had trouble sleeping since Anthony’s death, and why would they, as they were sleeping when she was not. Furthermore, she wasn’t close enough with Mathew to confide in him. And she had no wish to worry her mother.

“More tea, Miss Belmont?”
Claire gave Plimley a grateful smile. He was always near when she needed a diversion. Her mother, she could usually distract, but Mathew tended to be more tenacious. “Thank you, Plimley, and how is Helen this morning?”

“Much better, thank you, Miss Belmont. Her headache is passing, and she should back to work tomorrow.”

“Who is Helen?”
“Honestly, Mathew, Helen is one of your maids and she suffers terribly from headaches. But we seem to be getting them sorted, as this is the first in many months.” Claire lifted her cup and took a sip.

“Do you know the names of all the staff here, Claire?”

Simon Kelkirk was the only other person who stared at her the way Mathew was doing right now. It was as if no one else existed at that moment. For the most, Claire avoided her brother’s penetrating looks and probing questions, but occasionally, when she wasn’t concentrating, he caught her out.

“Yes, Mathew, I do.”

He looked at her steadily. “You haven’t answered my question little sister. Are you tired this morning?”

“Of course I’m tired, Mathew. I danced until my feet hurt and did not find my bed till well past midnight.”

“Before he died Anthony told me he was worried about you because you had stopped sleeping since he returned, as you insisted on caring for him during the night. He feared that with his death this would not change. Is that the case, sister, do you struggle to sleep?”

His question surprised her, as they rarely mentioned their brother. The subject was too painful for both of them.

“Claire?”

“Why are you asking me this now when he has been dead many years?” Claire kept her eyes on the plate before her. “All this brotherly concern is quite overwhelming,” she added, keeping her tone light.

“Because he also told me you needed watching, and to my lasting regret, I have provided for you but perhaps not watched over you as well as I should have.”

Claire gripped the sides of her chair hard as she looked up at the concern in his eyes. Why now did he want to play the big brother when before, he was indifferent to her?
“I am all grown up now, Mathew. There is no need for this, I assure you. We are not like that, you and I–”

“Like what, Claire? Close, do you mean, as you were with Anthony?”

She had told Anthony everything. There had been moments since their brother’s death in which Claire had needed Mathew, had wanted him to hold her and tell her everything would be all right and that the pain of missing Anthony would ease, but he had never been there for her, and perhaps she had not been there for him, either, but it was too late now to establish that kind of relationship. “I am not sure why we are having this conversation now, Mathew.”

She wanted to pull away from his intense gaze, yet could not do so. It was almost as if he was willing her to look at him.

“I hope you would come to me if you had a problem, Claire.”

“What problem could I possibly have, Mathew? My life is exactly as it should be.”

Again, she was subjected to a long, silent look.

“And yet you received a note yesterday, delivered to the servant’s entrance, and then you left the house without your maid.”

Dear god!

“I want to know what was in that note, sister.”

“I-It was just a note from a friend in need, Mathew. Nothing nefarious, I assure you,” Claire said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Who had told him?

“What are you two talking about?”
Dragging her eyes from her brother, Claire looked gratefully at her mother as

she walked back into the room. Forcing herself to let go of the chair, she reached for her cup and took a large mouthful of the lukewarm tea. “Mathew was telling me his eggs were cold,” Claire said quickly.

“Well, perhaps if he had eaten them when they were hot instead of burrowing into the paper, he would have enjoyed them more.”

“Thank you, Mother, I had not thought of that.”

Claire knew she should have told Mathew about the note. However, she hadn’t because it had singled her out, and said not to tell anyone. She also believed that whatever Anthony had left behind was very important, and Claire wanted nothing to hinder her chances of retrieving it.

“Are Eva and the baby still coming for a visit this morning, Claire?”

“Indeed they are, Mother, and I had best get ready to greet them,” Claire said, rising. “Excuse me.”

Mathew’s eyes followed her from the room, and Claire was glad to close the door behind her. One of the staff must have told him about the note, and like Simon, Mathew was tenacious and would ask her until she told him what it had said.

“Lord, what a conundrum,” Claire muttered as she made her way back to her room. Her life had been so simple just a few days ago, and now she had the note, Simon, and Mathew to contend with.

Her maid helped her change and prepare for Eva’s visit, and she applied more powder, then pinched her cheeks, hard.

“The Duchess of Stratton has arrived, Miss Belmont.”

“Thank you, Plimley,” Eva called through the door.

Claire made her way down the stairs to where Eva and Georgia were waiting. The smile on her face was now genuine. She had fallen in love with the little cherub, and at least for a few hours, she could be herself, chat and laugh with her best friend and mother without a brooding male questioning her. Hurrying inside the parlor she came to an abrupt halt.

Simon was standing by the windows with Georgia in his arms. He was having a conversation with Mathew, and both men seemed oblivious to the fact that the little girl had undone Simon’s necktie and was sucking on it.

“Hello, Claire.”

Dragging her eyes from the picture Simon presented and forcing the smile back onto her face, Claire hurried to greet her friend.

“Simon insisted on accompanying me when he heard Grandmother was visiting with Daniel. You know how she terrifies him.”

Claire kissed Eva’s cheek and tried not to look at Simon.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

Yes,
she shrieked silently. “Of course not.”

“You had best go and give Georgia a kiss, Claire. She has noticed your arrival.”

The little girl was waving her hands about and making noises and looking at Claire, who did not want to go anywhere near the male holding her or her brother, yet could not resist the child in his arms, so she made her way to where they stood.

Claire curtsied to Simon, avoiding his eyes as he stopped speaking to Mathew and looked at her. She then took one of the hands Georgia was waving about. “Hello, sweetheart, how are you today?”

“Very well, darling, and you?”

The deep words were whispered in her ear as Mathew turned to speak to a footman. Ignoring them and the small shiver they produced inside her, Claire leant forward and kissed the baby’s cheek.

“She likes it if you make disgusting noises whilst you kiss her.”

“I don’t make disgusting noises, Lord Kelkirk,” Claire said in a prim voice that made her sound like her mother. She wanted to take the child from him, yet did not want to ask.