Once in the confines of his study, he closed his eyes and tried his best not to resort to cursing Lord Draydon. He had always believed that Claire had a good head on her shoulders and that she would take his and Suzanna’s advice in dealing with Society but he had underestimated the effect his old schoolmate had on her.
“I have vastly underestimated the strength of her willpower,” he muttered to himself. “It seems that she is willing to do anything to get him, even if he is the wrong man for her.”
He looked outside the window and thought about writing to the Viscount of the latest developments of the girls and the Season. However, he could not trust himself to give a truly objective report—only that he did not trust his instincts when it came to the Marquess.
Besides, even the Viscount himself has admitted on occasion that it was rather difficult to change her mind once she has her heart set on something.
It was just a rather unfortunate circumstance that she had set it on Lord Draydon, and not on him.
* * *
Claire watched as Lady Suzanna made her excuses and left the table shortly after her brother. Over the past few days, she had noticed that Suzanna had become rather wan and withdrawn. Trixie had even commented on this on occasion but she would only laugh and brush it off.
At night, whenever they had to attend another event, she would resume being the cheerful, beautiful young lady who had the whole of London eating from the palm of her hand.
Never mind that she was two score-and-three years old, Lady Suzanna still held the rest of Society enthralled by her beauty and her charming wit.
If I wanted to gain the heart of the Marquess, I have to do what I have never done before.
Claire turned to her sketchbook, to that page which held an unfinished design—her masterpiece that was yet to be.
“If only I could go out and see more of London,” she muttered to herself. “But it seems that I am confined to an interminable round of breakfasts and afternoon teas and balls and the like. How will I ever finish what I have set out to London to accomplish?”
She sighed in frustration as she tapped her pencil at the edge of her sketchbook. So far, she had seen grand townhouses that were enough to house ballrooms but none of the grand structures that had previously inspired her to create her designs.
She looked at the unfinished drawing and frowned.
I would need more than an unfinished design to win the heart of Lord Draydon, she despaired.Once I am finished with this design, then he shall see that I am every bit as talented as Lady Suzanna and I will win his heart for sure.
But how?
She glanced at the clock. In two hours, Lord Draydon would be joining them for afternoon tea in the drawing room. If she was to win his heart, she had to do more than she had ever done before.
With a steely glint in her eye, Claire put pencil to paper and began to do what she did best.
She created.
* * *
At precisely one in the afternoon, the townhouse of the Duke of Minsbury received the Marquess of Draydon.
As the butler led him to the drawing room, Lady Suzanna and Lady Claire were talking about the latest fashions and what events were up on their social calendar.
Claire looked up at the Marquess as he walked in, her heart thudding so painfully that she feared it would leap out of her chest.
He was dressed impeccably today and looked every bit the wealthy young nobleman. He was decidedly handsome but he possessed a caustic wit that kept most of the other debutantes away from him.
Not Claire, though. She was determined to win his heart and there was no force on earth that could stop her.
“I seem to have interrupted quite a lively discussion,” he mused as he took a seat. “Please do not stop on my account.”
Lady Suzanna laughed at him. “Why, whatever dear Claire and I were talking about would bore you to tears.” She waved her hand casually at him, a graceful movement that the Marquess subtly followed with his eyes. “Bonnets and gowns and jewelry—how could that possibly interest you?”
The Marquess smiled a little. “Why, the acquisition of wealth is precisely for that matter, my lady—that a man may comfortably provide for everything his lady desires.”
He spoke with such an intimate tone it made Claire blush.
How absolutely wonderful it would be to behislady, to be his marchioness. To Claire, it seemed like a fantastical dream.
