Courting Claudia (9 page)

“You will marry Richard. Do you understand me, girl? You will do anything and everything it takes to secure that man as your husband. And I mean anything. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now get yourself off to bed. And figure out a way to make that man propose to you.”

Her father had just given her permission to make herself physically available for Richard's pleasure. She couldn't even begin to imagine how she could seduce a man, much less one who didn't even want to kiss her. What would her father say if he knew that?

Her entire life, she'd dreamed of a man like Derrick courting her, and the very night that dream had become a reality, her father callously ripped it from her hands.

“A
Miss Prattley here to see you, sir.”

“Send her in.” Derrick stood and waited for her to enter his office. She came a moment later in a flurry of pale green. “I wasn't expecting a visit today.”

She straightened slightly, looking anywhere but in his eyes. “I can only take one more assignment.”

“I thought we agreed you would work until you married.”

“We did. And that might be happening sooner than we had expected.”

“Claudia, what's going on? What happened be
tween last night and this morning? Because I know you weren't engaged last night.”

“Nothing happened.” She was hiding something.

“Why won't you look at me?” He walked to her and turned her face to him. “Look at me, Claudia.”

She met his gaze. “Nothing happened.”

Something was different in her eyes today, a resolve that hadn't been there before. She was serious this time. She'd tried to walk away from the paper before, but he'd been able to convince her to stay. Today he wasn't so certain he'd be able to do that. “You're lying.”

“That's not very kind.”

“But it's the truth. Did Richard come over this morning and propose?”

She took a step away from him.

“I take that as a no. Then why the sudden change?”

She didn't answer.

“Is this about last night?”

A blush crept up her neck and settled in her cheeks.

They stood a few steps apart, yet it seemed as if a great chasm separated them.

“Claudia, I didn't plan for that to happen either, but there's nothing wrong with our desire.”

“I'm not allowed to see you socially anymore, Derrick. I'm sorry. Since we can't seem to separate business and personal, this will be my final assignment. I have no other option, so there can be no further discussion.”

“Not allowed? You're seven and twenty. Who decides who you are and aren't allowed to see?”

She squared her shoulders and said firmly, “My father.”

“I haven't made my intentions for you public. How does he even know we've been involved?”

“It doesn't matter how he knows. The point is he knows, and he doesn't want me to see you anymore. He wants me to marry Richard, and that is what I intend to do.”

“Are you marrying Richard only because your father wants you to?”

“I don't have to answer that.”

“I suppose that means yes. You could stand up to your father.”

She threw her arms up in the air. “I am a woman, in case that's failed to come to your attention. I can't stand up to anyone about anything. It isn't done. My father decides whom I marry.”

“Do you always let him dictate everything you do?”

“This is a pointless conversation. I don't expect you to understand. You're a man; you can do as you choose. Ladies have no choices.”

Why was he fighting her? That restless choking feeling that surged through him couldn't be panic. He had no reason to panic. It was an inconvenience to have her resign her position, but it shouldn't affect him one way or another not to see her anymore. His fascination and attraction to her would eventually wane.

Even as he thought it, somehow he doubted it was true. Not completely. And it was less about her leaving the paper than he was ready to admit. He didn't want her to walk out his door with the intention of never seeing him again.

She had become like a drink to him, a drug his body craved. He couldn't get enough kisses, couldn't stop the fantasies of making love to her that plagued his thoughts.

“Your father is a tyrant.”

“My father is not a tyrant,” she said quickly. “And if he were, it would be none of your concern.” Her defense of her father was solid, her loyalty apparently unbending.

“Let's not discuss your father. What do you know about Richard?” Derrick knew he shouldn't care if she married Richard, yet the thought of her doing so drove him insane. He refused to analyze
precisely why he cared. He was merely being a gentleman to protect her from a relationship with such a deceitful and manipulative man.

“What do you mean? He's a marquess. He's from a good family. He works with my father. He's a good man. I know plenty about him.”

“Richard is not a good man.”

She frowned. “You say that with such certainty.”

“That's because I know. I know Richard. I know more about him than you or your father. I'd wager if your father knew what I know, then he'd change his mind about you marrying Richard.”

“What is it that you know?”

“Suffice it to say, I know what I'm talking about, and Richard is the wrong man for you.”

“Now you're giving me advice about men?”

“I don't want to see you involved in something or someone that will ruin your life.”

“I appreciate your concern, but truly it's unnecessary. I know this is all really about the paper. You're protecting what is yours, and I respect that. Regardless of whether I marry Richard or someone else, no husband will allow his wife to have a paid position. Surely you know that.”

“I know that narrow-minded men feel threatened when women take paid positions. A society that deems it is acceptable for poor women on the East End to earn their wages on their backs, yet
feels it is unacceptable for a woman of good breeding to take a paid position, makes no sense. It's wrong. My mother worked, and there was nothing improper about her.”

“That's quite forward thinking.”

“I suppose it is. But it's ignorant of us to think that simply because someone is a woman she is unable or unqualified to work. You are the perfect example. You illustrate as well as, if not better than, all my other illustrators. You could be an example for other women.”

She released a heavy sigh, then her shoulders dropped. “While I would love to give hope to other women, I'm afraid I'm not the person to do so. Derrick, I appreciate your confidence in me. But whether or not it makes sense, it is inappropriate for women to have paid positions. It's a fact of our society.”

“You'll just accept that?”

She walked to look out the window. “It doesn't matter what I think about this.”

“How can it not matter if it involves your life?”

She spun around to face him. “I don't have good instincts about things,” she said with nearly a yell, then quickly covered her mouth. “I apologize.”

“No need to apologize. Yell—it doesn't offend me.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “You don't have good instincts about what?”

“Anything. Everything. I've learned to ignore my feelings as they tend to get me into trouble. I try to follow my father's guidance. He knows what is proper.”

Somehow that bastard of a father had convinced her that her own instincts were wrong. Inappropriate. And he was using that against her—making her feel guilty for her natural emotions.

No matter what Derrick said, she'd never see life his way—or allow herself the freedom to live as she'd like. She was imprisoned.

“Promise me something,” he said. “Find out everything you can about Richard before you agree to marry him. Don't do it simply for your father.”

“I'll do what I can.”

“In the meantime, continue working for me. At least until Richard actually proposes. In return, I will do my best to prevent any more news about us from reaching your father. Rest assured, our relationship, business or personal, shall be a secret.”

She chewed at her lip. She wanted to.

“Claudia, I know you love it. Give yourself permission to enjoy life for the time being. We'll cross the marriage bridge when we come to it.”

“Very well. But as soon as he proposes, I must quit. And you must accept that.”

“You have my word.”

“The next time we see each other in public, please don't ask me to dance or bring me a drink.”

“Your father may dictate your actions, Claudia, but he will not dictate mine. I will be discreet, as I want to protect you, but I shall court you as long as I want. And until you personally want me to stop, then don't ask me again to stop for your father's sake.” His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Do you want me to stop?”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes glistening with tears. “I told you, it doesn't matter what I want. I should go. My father will only be out for a short time, and I want to be home when he returns.”

He let her leave, but he refused to allow some domineering father to tell him he couldn't court a lady of his choosing. He acknowledged that was the rebel in him. But he also knew he would make a better husband for Claudia than Richard.

Regardless, marriage should be about mutual love and respect, and while he respected Claudia, he couldn't offer her love. He couldn't offer any woman love. He wouldn't give his heart to another after Julia casually dismissed him.

But he also knew he couldn't continue to court Claudia unless he was serious about marrying her. It wasn't fair to her. He didn't want to hurt her; she
had enough pain in her life with her bastard of a father.

He had a hell of a decision to make.

 

Instead of having the driver return her home, Claudia gave him Poppy's address. She needed to talk to someone. So much had happened, Claudia desperately needed a friendly face. She was let into the drawing room where Poppy's mother sat mending.

“Claudia, how good to see you.”

“Lady Livingston, I trust you are well.”

“Aside from worrying about that daughter of mine, I'm doing well. I do wish you'd encourage her to get serious about securing herself a husband. I don't want her left all alone like my dear cousin Abigail.”

“Mother, do stop your fretting,” Poppy said from the doorway.

Claudia gave Poppy a look she hoped expressed her need for them to talk alone.

Poppy caught on. “I'm glad you're here. I need you to help me pin one of those dresses you gave me.” She smiled lovingly to her mother. “Mother, I hope you don't mind us deserting you.”

“Not at all. I believe I'd like to take a short nap. We have a busy evening ahead of us. You girls run along.”

Once in the privacy of Poppy's bedroom, Poppy asked, “What's the matter?”

Claudia shook her head. They climbed up onto Poppy's tall, four-poster bed as they'd done since they were little girls and settled in for a talk. It was much more difficult than it had been when they were children, as now they couldn't lounge about because of their corsets and other undergarments restraining them.

“I recently heard some news that Richard might not be all he claims to be. Do you think he's a bad man?”

“Richard Foxmore? No. He's boring and arrogant. But I wouldn't say he was a bad man—presuming you mean evil when you say bad.”

“It was implied to me that Richard has some questionable activities in his past. And that if my father knew of them, he would not allow me to marry him. Can you imagine?”

“Who told you such a thing?”

Claudia looked away. She wasn't in the habit of keeping things from her best friend, but when it came to her relationship with Mr. Middleton, she hadn't been very forthcoming.

“Tell me.”

“Very well. Mr. Middleton. I had a meeting with him today, and we ended up discussing my rela
tionship with Richard. He said that Richard was not who I thought he was, and I should not marry him.”

“Did he give you any details?”

Claudia picked at a piece of thread that had come loose from the bedcovers. “No. Other than that marrying Richard would ruin my life.”

“Well, I've told you that before. But Mr. Middleton has connections. He has people all over town who give him information for his paper, and my father swears by it. So it is quite feasible that he would know something about Richard that even your father would not know about.”

“It seems so unlikely that Richard has a secret life. I don't consider him boring, but he doesn't seem—you can't tell anyone I said this—he doesn't seem clever enough.”

Poppy snapped her fingers. “Exactly. But that doesn't prove that he's not involved in something unsightly. Perhaps he does have a dark past. Maybe that's why he's so dull now. Makes him appear more unassuming.”

“I can't see it. I think Richard is simply preoccupied with his work. He's very involved politically, and I'm sure some of his decisions in the past have been controversial. Perhaps that's what Derrick meant.” She should say more. Defend Richard, but
frankly, after their last encounter, she wasn't certain she knew him at all.

“That seems unlikely. People make unfavorable decisions all the time; that doesn't generally warrant bad reputations. Derrick Middleton isn't from our side of town, so to speak. His definition of a bad man is different than ours—a little harsher, I would think. If he has real information about Richard, I think you should be careful.”

“Should I say anything to my father?”

“No. He wouldn't believe you, and he'd want to know who you've been talking to. I'm assuming you don't want to tell him of your new relationship with Derrick Middleton.”

“He knows.”

Poppy's eyes grew round. “He knows what?”

“That Derrick has been paying court to me. He waited up for me after the Finnigers' ball. He said that someone had told him that I was seen dancing with Derrick on more than one occasion.”

“I wonder who told him. Richard wasn't even at that ball. I suppose with your father's connections, it could have been anyone.”

“I told him that Mr. Middleton had asked and that I didn't want to appear rude. He told me I should have walked the other way.”

“I wish my parents would tell me I could walk away from some of my suitors.” Poppy toyed with the curls that framed Claudia's face. “Speaking of the Finnigers' ball, I heard some delicious gossip.”