‘He’ll most certainly have that,’ Sebastian confirmed. He got up and poured three glasses of madeira, surprising Clemence by handing her one. ‘You need it. Now. This scheme of yours about your money—are you certain? You cannot undo it.’
‘I know.’ Clemence sipped her wine. ‘I expect to go back to Jamaica as soon as this is settled and to run the business. I do not wish to attract fortune hunters. This idea is for my own protection as much as anything.’
‘You do not expect to marry here in England?’ Sebastian asked, his dark gaze resting thoughtfully on her face. ‘I thought perhaps that this was to facilitate—’
‘No. I do not expect it.’ There had been the faint recollection of her dream, like a wisp of smoke when she awoke. A dream of the pool in the forest, of her being in Nathan’s arms and gold rings glinting through the water. The ghost of the dream had lingered all morning. Now it faded and left her. There was nothing like the down-to-earth realism of a lawyer to snuff out foolish fantasy and as they had talked she had let go of it as though she had felt Nathan’s hand slip from hers.
Nathan had had every opportunity to tell her he loved her last night on the terrace, she told herself, and he had not. Now she felt certain that he never would. She hated his honour for keeping them apart. She admired him for possessing it. With it, they could never be together—without it, he would not be the man she loved.
Clemence saw virtually nothing of Nathan all day. Either the weather was warmer than it had been, or she was becoming used to the English climate, Clemence thought, as Jessica made the unus
ual suggestion of an alfresco dinner.
Rugs were spread on the grass below the terrace, tables and chairs brought out and dotted about and Cook and her minions began to set long tables as a buffet.
Lady Maude appointed herself chief floral arranger and bore Clemence off, armed with baskets and small shears to raid the long borders. ‘Are you going to marry Captain Stanier?’ she enquired, handing Clemence some foliage sprays.
‘I-No.’ Clemence was taken aback by the frontal attack. ‘Why would you imagine I should?’
Maude chuckled. ‘I am not very long married. I see the way he looks at you and the way you look at him and the way you both carefully don’t look at the same time.’
‘Oh.’ Clemence looked warily at Maude as she sat down in an arbour and patted the seat next to her.
‘And?’
‘I love him. I think he may—does—love me. But…’
‘You’re a Ravenhurst. Probably a rich one. He is just a career naval officer.’ Maude threw up her hands. ‘Men and their honour! Eden is illegitimate. Did you know that?’
‘I gathered,’ Clemence said carefully.
‘As much pride as a porcupine has prickles, that man. I had to take drastic action in the end and tell him if he couldn’t see the difference between pride and honour then I didn’t want to marry him anyway.’
‘Goodness.’
‘I threw him out of my bedroom—’ She saw Clemence’s dropped jaw and grinned. ‘I was ill in bed, he was pacing the corridor outside,’ she explained.
‘Well, I thought I had an idea to deal with the money, but I still can’t see how I am going to attack that conviction he has that I am destined for better things just because I am a Ravenhurst. I hoped, just for a few moments, last night. But he did not speak.’
‘Hmm. Well, I have to say, that your Captain Stanier may not be a Ravenhurst, but he is certainly worth fighting for.’
‘If I can only find weapons it is fair to fight with,’ Clemence murmured, half to herself.
‘You will, and the Ravenhursts will help, you’ll see. Now, let’s get these flowers back.’
Clemence surprised herself by enjoying the meal. Her cousin Elinor, a redoubtable bluestocking, kept her laughing with tall tales of the adventures that had marked her courtship with Theo Ravenhurst. ‘You should write sensation novels for the Minerva Press,’ Clemence said after a lurid description of being chained up in a rat-infested dungeon with Theo and a jug of poison for company.
‘Every word of it is true.’ Theo came back with a platter of fruit and lowered himself onto the rug between the two women. ‘Word of a Ravenhurst. I had a dull and blameless life until I fell in with this woman.’
‘Liar.’ It was Sebastian, Nathan at his side. Clemence felt her colour rising and made rather a business of making room on the rug. ‘Theo, you should know, Cousin Clemence, is the scapegrace of the family. We are deeply grateful to Elinor for his reform.’
‘I may have reformed him,’ Elinor said with a twinkle, ‘but he has absolutely corrupted me as far as spending money on clothes is concerned. I used to be completely unconcerned about gowns,’ she explained to Clemence. ‘If a sack had been decent covering, I would have been satisfied with that. But now! I am so looking forward to shopping with you in town.’
‘You may be disappointed,’ Sebastian observed, peeling an apple. ‘Clemence is intending to return to Jamaica after the Season.’
‘What?’ Nathan, who had been lounging almost out of her sight behind Sebastian, sat up with a jerk. ‘Going back to Jamaica?’
‘Yes. I intend to run the business.’ For some reason her lips felt stiff.