Sweet Awakening (6 page)

Clare finally perched herself on the edge of a chair, and Giles was able to sit down.

“I did not come only to ask you for your company this afternoon, Clare.”

Clare could not look him in the face. His tone was serious. Surely he could not have been planning to offer for her today of all days. The day she must tell him of her betrothal to Rainsborough.

“We have been friends for a long time, Clare.”

“Yes, Giles.” Oh, God, he was.

“You know I have a very deep affection for you.”

“And I for you, Giles.”

“And that our parents have expected ... although of course, it has never been formalized ... that we might make a match of it.”

He was making his offer. But he was not, Clare realized with relief, declaring an undying passion for her. He was making his offer rather matter-of-factly. He did not need her like Justin did. Not Giles. Not her friend and protector. Thank God, she didn’t have to worry about him. He would be disappointed, she was sure. But his very being did not depend upon her. It made it much easier for her to say what she had to say.

“There is something I must tell you, Giles,” she said, finally lifting her eyes to his face.

From her tone, Giles could tell it was important. And it was clear she was not rushing in to accept his proposal before he had even finished making it. He kept his face carefully expressionless.

“You know that I have been in the company of Lord Rainsborough almost as much as I have been in yours for these past weeks. At first, I was only surprised and flattered that he sought me out.”

Giles wanted to protest: “But why would you be surprised, Clare? You are a lovely woman. You should just have accepted his attentions as your due.” But he kept quiet, waiting for her to finish.

“Then, as I got to know him better, I realized that I had very strong feelings for him and he for me. We are very much in love, Giles,” Clare said in a rush, as though to keep him from any protest. “It happened so quickly, so unexpectedly. He spoke to Father yesterday. The betrothal will be in the paper tomorrow,” she finished in almost a whisper.

“I see. Then, may I be the first to wish you happy, Clare?” What the hell else could he say? He had been the worst kind of fool, taking for granted that her feelings for him were as strong as his for her. Never imagining that someone like Rainsborough could sweep her off her feet. Thank God he had made no declaration of love.

Clare reached out her hands to his. “Oh, Giles, I never meant this to happen. I never dreamed it
could
happen,” she added tremulously. “I hope you can wish me happy wholeheartedly.”

Giles lifted her hands to his lips and gave them a gentle kiss.

“Of course, my lady.”

“And it is not as if we ever fell in love,” added Clare, as he let her hands go. “We have been the best of friends, and I hope we will always remain so.”

“I hope so, too, Clare.”

“I expected us to build a long and happy life together based on that friendship, Giles. Had I not met Justin, I think we might have done that. But Giles ...”

“Yes, Clare?”

“I now know what would have been missing. I want you, as my dearest friend, to find what I have found. Someone who is everything to you.”

Oh, but I have found her, Clare,
vie de ma vie.
I found her many years ago. I expected to cherish and protect her for all of my life. But I have been such a
good
friend, Giles thought bitterly.

“Perhaps I will, Clare," he replied with a fleeting smile. “But I must go now.” As they stood up, he felt the lump in his pocket. Well, it
had
been purchased as a betrothal gift, he thought, as he pulled it out.

“I would like you to have this, Clare.”

“Oh, no, Giles, I couldn’t,” she protested, embarrassed all over again that he had come with every expectation of being accepted.

“It is a small gift, Clare. Just something I saw that made me think of you.”

She took the box and opened it with trembling fingers. It was only a simple pendant, but the stone was such a deep purple and the filigree setting so exquisite that she almost handed it back. “It is
too
beautiful, Giles! And you meant it as a betrothal gift.”

“And so it still is,” he said lightly. “You are betrothed. Surely a gift from an old and dear friend is quite in order?”

She looked quickly up into his face. There was nothing there to disturb her. No sign of a broken heart. Just Giles, with his shock of brown hair falling over his forehead, his hazel eyes warm with affection.

“Thank you, Giles. For this. And for being so understanding about Justin.”

He was gone quickly, and Clare fingered the pendant, knowing that despite their protestations of continuing friendship, things had changed between them forever.

* * * *

There were more than a few “I told you so’s” traded at the Eliot’s supper dance after the betrothal announcement appeared in the papers. And a handful of gentlemen pocketed substantial sums, having bet that Lord Rainsborough would carry the day. Lucy Kirkman was one of the most vocal commentators. After offering her very sincere congratulations to Clare, she made sure to tell as many people as possible of her concern for Giles. “It must have been such a shock,” she intoned. “He has loved her since we were all children, you know.”

Sabrina, who had heard Lucy’s comments third-hand, was furious. It was bad enough that Giles was suffering. It would be outrageous for people to know about it. And so she merely laughed when people would come up to commiserate with her.

“Of course there had been an unspoken family arrangement. Everyone knew
that.
But it was based upon friendship. Giles was the first person Clare told and the first to wish her happy, you know,” she announced to all and sundry.

When she got to Lucy, she invited her to take a stroll around the edge of the ballroom and informed her, keeping the sweetest of smiles on her face, that if she heard one more bit of gossip about her brother, she would personally push Lucy’s face into the nearest punch bowl.

“Sabrina, I was not trying to spread gossip! I just felt such sympathy for Giles. But of course I will say nothing more, if you think it best.”

“Thank you, Lucy. And neither of us would wish Giles to hear of this conversation, I am sure.”

“Of course not.”

Sabrina was satisfied that Lucy would keep her mouth shut. Unfortunately, she would not be able to stop her from going after Giles. Well, let her make a fool of herself, Sabrina thought. He has never seen anyone but Clare, and he never will.

* * * *

Clare had dressed very carefully for the supper dance. It would be the first time she and Justin would appear in public officially betrothed, and she wanted him to be proud of her. She put on her newest gown, a lilac silk that was covered by a delicate gauze overslip of an even lighter lilac. Giles’s gift was on her dressing table, and she fingered it thoughtfully. He had been so sweet and so understanding.

Wearing his gift tonight seemed a pledge of her continuing friendship, she decided, and so she had her maid fasten it around her throat. It was the perfect length and the very simplicity of the setting made one focus on the deep purple depths of the stone and then the violet of Clare’s eyes.

She was very glad she had worn it when she saw the look in Giles’s eyes as he greeted her warmly and publicly congratulated her on her betrothal.

Clare had never thought of herself as competitive with other women. Indeed, she saw herself as having very little to offer in contrast to some of this year’s beauties. But she had to confess to a certain satisfaction as she saw the look of envy in several women’s eyes. She had captured the heart of the handsomest man in London, she thought, as she and Justin whirled around the room, in their first waltz of the evening, and she let herself enjoy her moment of triumph.

Several people had complimented her on her appearance, particularly mentioning her pendant. She thanked them and said to a few that it was a gift from an old friend. After their dance, when Justin had invited her out onto one of the balconies for some fresh air, she assumed he was taking the opportunity to steal a kiss or two, and after he closed the French doors behind them, she lifted her face. He only stood there, arms crossed, looking down at her.

“What is wrong, Justin,” she asked, puzzled by his reaction.

He reached out his hand and lifting the pendant with his finger, pulled it gently and then a little harder, so that Clare had to move closer to him.

“It
is
a lovely piece, my dear. And it certainly does match your eyes.” He was only repeating the compliments she had already received but in a tone she had never heard from him before. “Who
did
give you this, Clare?”

What had seemed like a simple gesture of friendship earlier in the evening now seemed rather foolish and naive. “Giles gave it to me, Justin. He
is
an old friend, and one who had ... certain expectations that were disappointed.” Clare had not told Justin of Giles’s proposal, only that she had personally informed him of her own. “I only wore it,” she continued, “to show my appreciation of his understanding and friendship. He really does wish me happy, Justin, as I am, my dear,” she added, putting her hand on his arm.

Justin closed his eyes for a minute, and when he opened them, Clare saw such a look of insecurity that it quite tore at her heart.

“I am sorry, Clare,” he stammered, releasing her. “It is only that I cannot quite believe that you really love me. After all, you and Whitton have had a long history between you.”

“Only of friendship, Justin,” said Clare quietly. “I see now that I was very naive and insensitive to wear the necklace this evening. I think I did so partly because I feel so guilty about my treatment of Giles. Because I feel sorry that he has not found the love that I have.” She reached her hands up and struggled with the clasp. “Here,” she said, grasping his wrist and turning his hand over. “I won’t wear it again if it disturbs you.”

Justin’s fingers closed over the pool of gold, and his thumb fingered the facets of the amethyst. “I can almost summon up some sympathy for Whitton myself, for I can’t imagine what it would feel like to lose you to another man,” he said, as he slipped the necklace into his pocket.

“You do not have to imagine it, Justin, for it will never, ever happen. You have all of my heart, forever.”

They did not kiss then, or later that evening, but Clare felt closer to Justin than she ever had. It was something she would never have expected: that the most heartbreakingly handsome man in London was only another insecure human being like herself. The fact that their need was mutual, as well as their passion, convinced her that their marriage would be a long and happy one.

* * * *

Giles had had very mixed feelings about Clare’s decision to wear his pendant. His first and last reaction was a surge of simple affection. He knew Clare very well, and knew she had worn the amethyst as a message of friendship. The sweetness of her nature was one of the things he loved her for. But for much of the evening, he had to admit, he was angry and heartsick. There was the necklace, fitting as perfectly as he had envisioned it, drawing compliments about Clare’s eyes, but he was not the man beside her basking in the glow of those compliments. He was on the sidelines watching her wear what he had meant to be his own betrothal gift with Justin Rainsborough as her betrothed.

He was aware of the gossip. Who could not be? He had known about the wagers weeks ago and had ignored them. In fact, had he not been one of the objects of speculation, he would have bet on Giles Whitton himself over a flashy newcomer like Rainsborough. Which only showed what a fool he was. He responded to the veiled sympathy that was offered him by smiling and saying how pleased he was that Clare had found someone who could make her happy.

It was a long evening, however, and his mouth was stiff from all the smiling. He was very aware of the betrothed couple, and when they disappeared onto one of the balconies, he had a hard time concentrating on his conversation with his companions. When Clare and Justin emerged, Giles noticed immediately that Clare’s neck was now empty and overheard her explanation to a curious acquaintance: “No, no, the pendant was not lost, although it may well have been. The clasp is defective, and luckily I discovered this before I did lose it.”

The clasp defective, my eye and Betty Martin, thought Giles. Justin Rainsborough did not want his wife-to-be wearing anything that was a gift from a former suitor, even if that suitor was an old family friend. Well, I am not sure I blame him, Giles admitted to himself. It was sweet of you, Clare, but naive to think that you could carry some symbol of loyalty to our friendship into this marriage. Rainsborough expects all your loyalty to be with him, as well it should be. And he has begun as he means to go on.

Giles slipped away early, eager to get away from the gossip and the looks of pity and the sight of Clare and Rainsborough waltzing together as though they were one person already and not still two.

* * * *

The next morning as Giles was finishing the morning paper in the library, his butler knocked at the door.

“Come in,” he called.

“I beg pardon, my lord, but a footman from the Rainsborough household just delivered this.” The butler held out a small brown paper parcel.

Giles reached out and closed his hand over it, a puzzled frown on his face. “Thank you, Henley.” Whatever would Rainsborough be sending him? he wondered, as Henley closed the door behind him. And then, as he turned the parcel over, he knew. He opened the paper, and out slipped the amethyst necklace he had given Clare. It lay there on his desk, the jeweled pendant resting on a pool of gold chain, but all he could see was the way it had nestled in the soft hollow of Clare’s throat. He threaded his fingers through it and spread them apart, letting the pendant dangle and catch the sunlight.

“God damn his small soul to hell,” he whispered fiercely.

It was a fragile piece, which is what had drawn him to it in the first place, and the filigree broke easily as his fury took him over. The stone fell out and onto the floor and Giles ground it under his heel, wishing he could reduce it to powder and with it all the passionate longing which he had tried so hard to subdue. But it remained whole.