“Oh, Julian.”
He looked up.
“What?”
“You are hopelessly in love.”
He smiled.
“Yes.”
His aunt shook her head.
“Thank goodness.”
By February 1815, Julian had made a decision.
He traveled to Bath with Lady Honoria.
They arrived on a cold afternoon beneath a sky threatening snow.
Clara was staying at her aunt's house near the fashionable district, where she spent her mornings visiting friends and her afternoons assisting a charitable society that supported widows of soldiers.
When the footman announced the Duke of Alderwick, Clara rose so quickly that her embroidery fell to the floor.
Julian entered.
For a moment, they simply looked at one another.
Then Clara smiled.
It was the smile he had remembered through every lonely evening of winter.
“Your Grace.”
“Miss Langley.”
“You have come rather a long way.”
“I have.”
“Was there some difficulty at the estate?”
“No.”
“Has the river flooded again?”
“No.”
“Has Bess set fire to the kitchen?”
“Not recently.”
Clara laughed.
“Then why are you here?”
Julian looked at her.
“Because I discovered that letters are an inadequate substitute for your company.”
Her smile softened.
Lady Honoria entered behind him.
“Miss Langley, I have endured four hours in a carriage with a man who rehearsed his conversation so frequently that I can recite it from memory.”
Julian closed his eyes.
“Aunt.”
She ignored him.
“I have come to enjoy a pleasant visit with your relatives. My nephew, however, has business of a more personal nature.”
Clara felt her cheeks warm.
Her aunt appeared from the adjoining room and immediately engaged Lady Honoria in animated conversation.
Within minutes, the two older ladies had arranged to inspect the conservatory at the rear of the house.
Clara watched them disappear.
Then turned toward Julian.
“An extraordinary coincidence.”
“Is it not?”
She smiled.
They moved toward the drawing-room window, where the door remained open in proper view of the household.
Julian took her hand.
“Clara, I have considered a hundred ways of saying this.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It has been.”
“Then perhaps you should begin with the simplest.”
He looked at her.
And smiled.
“I love you.”
Clara's breath caught.
Julian continued.
“I love your courage, your intelligence, and your refusal to accept an answer merely because it has been spoken by someone with a title.”
Her eyes shone.
“I love the way you listen to children. I love the way you defend people who have no one to defend them. I love that you challenge me when I deserve it.”
His voice softened.
“And I love that you have taught me a man need not surrender his dignity by admitting he is wrong.”
Clara blinked back tears.
Julian took a breath.
“I cannot promise an easy life. The estate remains burdened. There will be difficult years, disagreeable relatives, and more accounts than any sensible woman should wish to examine.”
She laughed through her tears.
“But I can promise that you will never be required to make yourself smaller in order to make me feel important.”
Clara looked at him.
He continued.
“I have instructed Mr. Whitford to prepare a settlement protecting your independent property and the school trust. You may have it examined by any solicitor you choose. Nothing belonging to your mother will be placed under my control without your informed consent.”
Her expression softened further.
“Julian.”
“And if you marry me, you shall have your own correspondence, your own charitable work, and your own opinions.”
She smiled.
“How generous.”