“Oh.” She raised a brow. “I suppose you think that bit of mistletoe above your head means something.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and the face she knew from before—a placid mask of no-nonsense—melted into a smile meant, in Clara’s experience, purely for bedchambers.
Amelia inched closer to her husband, and Clara tried not to watch, though she could not help but hear.
“In front of your family?” her sister-in-law asked.
“Your fault, Amelia. There’s no controlling my emotions with you.”
The silence. Not quite silence. Rather, sounds that made everyone ignore the particular bit of room.
Except for Franny. She sighed then stood. “Tea. Everyone needs sustenance. I’ll fetch some.” She patted Lord Andrew’s back as she slipped past the kissing couple and toward the doorway.
They startled apart, and red-cheeked, Amelia bounded across the room to where Matilda stood in the crook of Raph’s arm. “Oh! Drew told me, but to see you so…” Her gaze darted to Matilda’s belly. “May I hug you?”
Matilda laughed and hugged her first.
“My turn now.” Cordelia joined them, a large, leather portfolio tucked under one arm. She inhaled, exhaled deeply, pleased as her gaze swept up and down Matilda’s frame. “You’re a picture of loveliness, Matilda. Which do you hope for? Boy or girl?”
“Whatever it pleases,” Matilda said.
Cordelia laughed and hugged her sister-in-law with her free arm then turned to Clara. “Good to see you, Lady Atlas Bromley.”
“Clara, please.”
The corner of Cordelia’s lip lifted. “I was irritated with dear Atlas for stealing you away. And at my weakest moment, too. Can’t a lady enjoy her nuptials without men plundering her employees for wives?”
“Have you found a cabinetmaker to replace me?”
Cordelia sighed. “None so good as you, I’m afraid. But your talents are put to good use here. Will you show us the dower house this afternoon? I’m anxious to see the work you’ve done.”
“Me as well.” Amelia pulled Matilda from Raph’s embrace. “You boys find something useful to do.” She sat Matilda on a comfortable sofa near Franny, and they all sat with her.
“I suppose we should unload the coach,” Raph said. He hooked his arms around his brothers’ necks. “You two are helping.”
“Don’t see we have an option,” Lord Andrew drawled as his older brother dragged him from the room.
Cordelia laid her parcel on the floor against her chair. “We musn’t let Franny see this. It’s a Christmas present for her. From Fee and Zander. A painting of some sort, I suppose. Oh, Clara, someone was looking for you. In London. At the school.”
Clara froze, mouth slightly agape. With numb hands she smoothed her already tame hair back to give her shaking hands something to do. “Looking for me? Surely not.” Those last two words not much more than a whisper.
“Yes.” Cordelia removed her bonnet and gloves. “A baron. Don’t remember his name. I didn’t speak with him directly.”
“Baron… Tefler?” How Clara pronounced the name, she did not know, but with heavy tongue it came tumbling from her lips.
Cordelia shrugged. “I cannot say. But he said he was family. I did not know you had any remaining family.”
“None I’ve seen in quite some time. He must have been mistaken.” She turned and climbed the stairs, the hot curiosity of her sisters-in-law’s stares boring into her back. She found her room and let the tremors come, let her muscles collapse, and let the hot tears streak her cheeks.
Had she thought she and Alfie safe? She should have known better.
No, no. She’d taken steps to ensure their safety. She’d married a man to do so. Lord Tefler could not take Alfie from her now, not with Atlas at Clara’s side.
But what would happen when Atlas left?
He wouldn’t leave, not if she told him about Baron Tefler. He’d remain by her side, her stalwart protector until the threat diminished entirely.
She wouldn’t have to lose him, wouldn’t have to wait for him to return, if he never left.
