She glanced up to her older sister with a childish pout. “Must I really?”
“You must or Father will never let you go to London for the Season,” Claire warned her laughingly. “You heard what he said—I must report your progress to him.”
Trixie muttered a soft complaint but was promptly sent by her older sister back to the classroom to apply herself to her studies.
“You know that Father highly values education,” Claire reminded her.
“Yes, I know,” her younger sister muttered in a dejected tone before she followed Mr. Brickley to the classroom.
Once that had been taken care of, Claire wandered back to the library, her mind turning at the possibilities of all that she would do in London. She had read so much about architecture and her heart longed for the day when she would finally be able to see the grand structures she had only ever seen on books worn from hours of perusing their pages. With the possibility of finally standing in front of these great buildings, she found that her excitement had only doubled until she could hardly sit still.
The one thing she could do to contain her enthusiasm was hours upon hours of poring through her folio, making adjustments to her sketches and plans, adjusting them when new ideas came to mind. Indeed, there was very little in this world that could satisfy her ambitious heart and one of those was to finally see her ideas come to life.
But first and foremost, she must learn well and to do that, she needed to see London in all its glory and absorb the glorious art of architecture.
So absorbed was she in her endeavors that she failed to notice the maid that had come to the library to announce the arrival of Lady Suzanna and her brother.
“Oh!” she looked up from her drawings with a flustered look, hastily closing the leather folio as she stood up.
The Duke and his sister were already in the drawing room, sipping tea when Claire arrived.
“I apologize for not welcoming you, Your Grace, Lady Suzanna,” she murmured with a slight incline of her head. “I was in the library and—”
“You need not apologize, dear heart,” Lady Suzanna smiled with a dismissive wave of her fingers. “Besides, we are all family here. ‘Twas Oliver who could not wait to hurry here. You know how seriously he applies himself to his duties.”
Claire smiled a little, noting the slight pink that had risen to the Duke’s collar. “Of course. We are honored that His Grace regards our family so kindly.”
“Now, sit here with me,” the older lady laughed, patting the chair closest to her. “We have plenty to discuss concerning your Presentation to Society.”
Claire took the seat closest to her and poured herself some tea. In all honesty, she could not care less about balls and parties and soirees. Indeed, it all sounded very exciting but her heart yearned to have adventures of a very different sort—one that involved wandering the streets of London, her sketchbook in tow.
“Suzanna has already made her curtsey five Seasons past and she will be able to assist you in this matter with far more efficiency than I could,” Oliver said sheepishly. “I would advise you, however, to not follow her words to the letter, as I have had to fend off a couple of irate suitors merely because she has managed to offend their sensibilities.”
Claire laughed as Lady Suzanna waved her hand dismissively with a delicate snort. “Those sort of men will not bring my heart peace, anyway,” she said. “There is no joy in delaying the inevitable and engaging in idle talk.”
As a young girl, Claire had grown up listening to Lady Suzanna talk of the Season and while it was rather clear that shedidhave a significant amount of suitors lining up for her hand in marriage, she found none of them to her taste. Of course, since her brother indulged her every whim, she had her say in the choice of her husband.
“In any case,” Lady Suzanna continued, “I have taken leave to invite one of the best seamstresses in London, Madame Woolworth, to begin with your wardrobe. As my brother suggested, we can purchase more in London but you need at least a few items for day dress, and evening gowns, as well as court dress for when you are presented to the Queen.”
The very notion of it all was enough to make her head spin. Although the Rowleys lived rather comfortably and wanted for nothing, Claire was certain that what Lady Suzanna had in mind would cost a staggering amount of money. Even with news of the inheritance from Aunt Amelia, it still seemed a little too much for her.
On the other hand, she did need to be dressed appropriately while she gallivanted around London to explore her heart’s desire.
“Do not fret, Claire,” the Duke assured her. “Lord Rowley and I have discussed this matter beforehand and he agreed that my sister be put in charge of such matters. As men, we are quite helpless on this.”
“And well you know it!” Lady Suzanna laughed. “Of course, we will need to buy dear Trixie a new wardrobe, too. Let it not be said that the daughters of the Viscount of Ranhold have been reduced to a shabby genteel existence in the country.” She looked at Claire and smiled grimly. “You must steel your heart, Claire, for the ballrooms of London are battlegrounds in the sacred quest for matrimony.”
“Oh, but I am not in a hurry to get married!” Claire laughed. “I am sure Father is of the same mind, too.”
“Quite sensible, your father,” the older lady averred. “After all, a woman’s life can be heaven or hell, depending on her choice of husband, and those of us with a choice in the matter should exercise that.”
“’Tis no wonder she is not married yet!” Oliver remarked with a bark of laughter, his green eyes twinkling.
“Lady Suzanna must, of course, marry a man that is worthy of her,” Claire laughed. “Otherwise, what a tragedy that would be!”
“Quite right, my dear. I am relieved you and I are of the same mind about marriage. At least I will not be so worried you would jump at the first dandy to beg for your hand in marriage.”
Claire thought that was hardly possible, since she longed for a man who would not only assure her of a comfortable life, but one she could spend the rest of her life with peacefully.
