A Heartbroken Duke’s Fake Courtship (Preview)

Chapter One

“I must speak to you, Miss Whitmore.”

Clara looked up. Thomas Gardiner stood beside her chair, hovering as if he wasn’t sure if he should be there or not. Across the table, her sister Sophie raised her eyebrows and laid down another card.

“Can’t this wait, Mr. Gardiner?” she asked. “My sister and I are currently in the middle of a game.”

“I’m afraid it can’t, Miss Sophie.” Thomas cleared his throat. “I wish to speak with her now, otherwise I’ll lose my nerve.”

Now that was concerning. Thomas was not the sort of person to get agitated about speaking to anyone, certainly not with Clara. They had known each other for years and were at ease around the other person. Something was amiss.

Sighing, Clara put her cards down.

“I suppose I’ll have to fold and give you the game, Sophie. Would you reshuffle the cards and get them prepared for the next?”

“All right.” Sophie frowned at Thomas. “Don’t be too long. I was enjoying taking all her toffees.”

Rolling her eyes, Clara stood. She had hoped she could fade into the background. The dinner party her father was hosting hadn’t been something she wanted to attend; it was mostly his old friends who were twenty years older than her and very boring. Thomas was the only one close in age to her, but that was because he was the son of another guest.

Her mother had tried to excuse her and her daughters, but Sir Edmund Whitmore was not someone to argue with. He had insisted that his wife and daughters join in, even though they barely had any other guests to talk to. The men who’d attended were just as boring as Whitmore himself.

Clara wished they’d had something else to do. Right now, she and Sophie were playing cards and keeping quiet while Mrs. Helena Whitmore sat nearby with a book. Nobody paid any attention to them until Thomas.

Right now, the only two people paying attention to Clara as she stepped away were her sister and mother. Whitmore was holding court with his guests, and they seemed to be more interested in what he was saying. There was a thin sheen of tobacco smoke in the air, which made Clara wrinkle her nose. She hated the smell. None of the gentlemen had smoked in front of the other guests, but it still hung around them. It was going to ruin the furniture; she was sure of that.

“Shall we go outside?” Thomas asked, gesturing toward the door. “It’ll be more private.”

“I’d prefer to stay here.” Clara nodded towards her mother, who was still watching them. “It’s too chilly for Mother, and I don’t want to have her outside.”

Thomas sighed.

“I’m not going to do anything untoward, Clara. Lady Helena would …”

“What is it you wanted to speak to me about, Mr. Gardiner?”

Clara knew she was being a little sharp, but she was fed up with the evening, and she just wanted to retire for the night. It was too early to get away with it, and she was bored out of her mind. She softened a little, aware that she needed to maintain her composure despite her own feelings.

“Forgive me, Thomas. It’s just been a trying evening.”

“I suppose.” Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. “Father is more interested in what your father is saying, and I can’t understand any of it. It feels like another language, talking about their younger days.”

“That’s what Sophie and I have been saying all evening.” Clara folded her hands in front of her. “What is it, Thomas?”

“Well, I …” He hesitated, and his cheeks went a little pink. “Would you like to accompany me on a ride in the morning?”

“A ride?”

“Yes. A horse ride.” He coughed. “Mother and I are going to France in a few days to see my sister Cecilia for a few months. I’m going to be away for some time.”

Clara stared.

“You’re going to France? But Napoleon hasn’t been defeated yet …”

“Cecilia and her husband are on the border of France and Belgium, right by the coast. It’s not been ravaged by the wars, so it’s perfectly safe.”

“Even so, I wouldn’t be comfortable going to France at this time.” Clara frowned. “I was surprised Cecilia wanted to go, anyway. She’s expressed concern about the war coming over here.”

Thomas shrugged.

“I can’t speak for what she was thinking at the time. She makes up her mind, and we can’t change it. It’s easier to just go along with her. But now she’s had a baby, and Mother wants to go and visit, so I’m going along as an escort.”

“Not your father?”

“Do you think you can get my father to leave the country?”

He did have a point. Thomas’s father was adamant about never getting onto a boat. He was terrified of water, and boarding a ship to travel across the sea was likely to make it worse for him. Clara could understand that; the thought of not having dry land beneath her feet was unnerving. She could get on a boat, but she would rather stay on dry land.

“Anyway,” Thomas continued, glancing toward the bellowing, laughing men. “I wondered if you and I could go riding together. I’d like to spend more time with you.”

“Why, though? We see each other regularly, Thomas.”

“Well, it’s because …” He groaned. “I never thought admitting it was going to be this difficult. It never seems this hard in books.”

Clara was getting worried now. She had a sinking feeling she knew what it was. She’d noticed that Thomas was shuffling back and forth, looking over at her during the evening with an expression that she hadn’t seen him use before. She suspected that Thomas was about to confess something to her that would shift things in a way she didn’t like.

She held up a hand.

“Let me guess what you’re going to say,” she said. “You believe that you’re in love with me.”

Thomas blinked, his mouth falling open.

“What? But …”

“That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

“It wasn’t that I believe that I love you, though.” His words came out in a rush. “I know that I love you.”

“Why?”

“What?” He blinked, clearly surprised by the response. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you love me? Is it because people would think it’s an advantageous match? Or is it because you love me?” Clara lifted her chin and fixed him with a cool stare. “You are aware of my thoughts on professing love when there is no love there to declare.”

Thomas’s cheeks went a little pink.

“You make it sound so clinical, Clara.”

“You are aware that I have no interest in love or marriage,” Clara reminded him. “I’ve been like this all the time you’ve known me.”

“Even if someone who’s been in your life a long time is in love with you?”

“Even then.”

Thomas looked as if she’d raised her hand and slapped him. He stared at her with stunned amazement.

“You’re still thinking like that? Why would you turn down anyone saying they loved you? That’s rather unkind, don’t you think?”

Clara sighed.

“I think it would be unkind if I led you on after what you said when I don’t feel the same way. Then everyone will be upset, and I don’t think it would be beneficial to anyone.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to open up your heart and try, would it?”

“If and when my heart opens up, it will do it because it’s natural, and not because I’ve forced it.” Clara glanced around. Her father and his friends were still busy and hadn’t noticed them, but Lady Helena was watching them. At least that made her feel a little better. “I’ll come riding with you tomorrow, Thomas, but just as friends. That’s all I can offer.”

Thomas snorted.

“Don’t bother.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“If you’re not going to be returning my love, then there’s no point in going out riding together.” He waved a hand, now even more agitated. “I can’t believe you would turn down someone who would love you, Clara. Don’t you care that you’re losing out?”

Now he was getting annoyed. Clara knew people could get annoyed when rejected, but it felt extremely childish.

“Losing out on what?” Clara challenged. “And if you loved me truly, you wouldn’t be so upset and start insulting me for turning you down.”

“You think I don’t actually love you?” Thomas demanded. “I plucked up the courage to tell you, and you just want to be friends? What’s the point of that?”

“I’m allowed to have my own thoughts and opinions.” Clara didn’t like where this conversation was going. “I know love happens, but it’s not something I’m interested in, getting married to someone I don’t love.”

“And you can’t even try with me?”

She shook her head. He looked as if he was going to lose his temper, and he turned his head away, taking a deep breath with his eyes closed. Clara knew that Thomas had a bit of a temper, which was part of the reason she wouldn’t consider him even as a husband. The other was he was boring. They were friends, but she thought he was boring. It was why they didn’t spend much time together, because Clara didn’t want to be rude and to end up yawning in front of him. Thomas was nice, and he had a good heart, but there was nothing much about him.

Thomas scowled at her.

“How can you be so steadfast in not being open to the idea of marriage?”

“Marriage?” Clara arched an eyebrow. “How did we go from professing love to marriage?”

“That’s where it goes, doesn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. The love could fade, or it could be false. And I’m not interested, as I’ve told you. I’ve made my choice in life, and people need to respect it.”

He didn’t look happy about it at all. His jaw tightened, and his cheeks turned redder. Clara hoped he wasn’t going to do anything stupid; otherwise, they were going to draw attention. She didn’t want another lecture from Sir Edmund about how she should be accepting any suit possible.

She wasn’t about to have a marriage that was just like the one her parents had.

Thomas sneered at her. Gone was the nervous state he’d previously been in, and now he looked at her with something close to contempt.

“You’ll change your mind,” he said. “One of these days, you’ll think otherwise, and then you won’t have anyone who wants to marry you. You’ll be too old for anyone to consider you a worthy wife.”

Clara snorted.

“If they don’t consider me worthy because of my age, then they’re not worthy of having a wife at all.”

“You won’t be saying that when everyone turns you away.”

Clara was about to scold him for talking in such a manner when she heard her father calling for her.

“Clara! Come here! You, too, Sophie!”

Biting back a groan, Clara turned away from Thomas. The momentary relief of getting away from him faded away as she walked towards Sir Edmund. He smirked and gestured at his daughters as they stood side-by-side.

“I think we need some frivolity. Would you like my daughters to perform a musical number?”

A murmur of agreement went around the room. Clara caught Sophie’s eye and saw the annoyance reflected back. They loved music, Clara playing the piano while Sophie sang, and they were well-known in the county for their exceptional musical talents. But when it came to performing for their father’s friends just so he could show them off, it made them feel like servants parading themselves. Sophie said she didn’t like singing when her father was in the room, and Clara could understand; he had no love for music and didn’t have a good ear despite his declarations.

He just wanted to show that his daughters were talented and ideal marriage matches. Neither daughter wanted that; they loved what they did when it was something they wanted to do. But Sir Edmund didn’t understand it.

However, Clara swallowed back what she wanted to say and gave Sir Edmund a bland smile.

“What would you like, Father?” she asked.

“Anything, really. Whatever you want.”

Sophie rolled her eyes as she turned away, heading toward the piano in the corner of the room. Clara joined her, getting some music out of the stool and placing it on the stand. At least it got her out of talking to Thomas while he insulted her. If it had lasted any longer, she would likely have slapped him.

Why couldn’t a gentleman accept a rejection without sounding like a wounded child?

***

When Clara awoke the next morning, she lay staring at the ceiling as she thought about the previous evening. It had been, as predicted, boring, and she was still annoyed by Thomas’s remarks. How could he think she would immediately say that she would love him and she’d do anything for him if he started insulting her?

She would never understand a man’s mindset.

At least their musical number had been well received. Clara had purposefully chosen a sad song, and Sophie had picked up on it immediately. If their father was upset by the choice, he didn’t say anything. Clara just wanted something to match her mood.

And, from the way she sang, Sophie wanted that, too. She’d been going between being snippy with people to morose and hiding away if she could. Clara had wanted to comfort her, but she didn’t know how.

She knew why her sister was so down, though. Sophie was in love. Her choice was a young barrister named Arthur Hollis, whose offices were nearby. He was a quite nice, charming man with a warm smile, a quick wit, and he was clearly besotted with Sophie. They adored each other, and Clara had chaperoned them on long walks. Sir Edmund knew nothing about it, mostly because everyone knew he would be furious about it. The daughter of the second son of the Earl of Guildford would not be permitted to marry a barrister. Sophie didn’t care, but they couldn’t get past a father’s disapproval without causing a scandal.

Although he seemed to be happy about Clara marrying Thomas Gardiner, who was a minor noble. In her mind, he was on the same level as Arthur in terms of social class, but Sir Edmund didn’t seem to care. His mentality was confusing.

According to Sophie, though, it didn’t matter to her. Just as long as she had Arthur in her life. Clara hoped that she could; her little sister was her true self around Arthur, and she was alive and vibrant, something she deserved. If that were taken away from her, she would be a shadow of her former self. Clara knew the heartbreak would be devastating.

But Sir Edmund wouldn’t care. He wanted his children to have good matches and didn’t care if it meant they didn’t love the men who would become their husbands. It was the same with his marriage, so he thought it would be ideal for them.

Clara wasn’t about to let that happen.

A gentle tap on the door made Clara sit up, and her maid, Alice, stuck her head into the room.

“Good morning, miss,” she said. “Would you like me to help you dress?”

“If you don’t mind, Alice? I’m just waking up, and I’m feeling sluggish.”

Her maid entered and began to collect things out of the wardrobe. Clara got out of bed and washed before getting helped into her dress and having her hair pinned up. She could do it all herself—she wasn’t completely useless—but Alice was fast and efficient at such a young age, so she would have to make the most of it.

Otherwise, her maid would be redundant.

“Would you like me to get anything else prepared for today?” Alice asked as she finished Clara’s hair. “Shall I lay out some clothes for a walk this afternoon? It’s meant to be a nice day.”

“I’ll have a think about it. But there’s nothing else you need to do for now, Alice.” Clara gave her a smile. “Thank you, anyway.”

Alice beamed and began to tidy up the room. Clara watched her, wondering if life was easier as a servant. They had to rely on employment and getting paid, but they surely had less restrictions when it came to finding a potential marriage partner. And if they wanted to remain unmarried, then they could.

If they were permitted, why couldn’t she?

Clara headed downstairs and entered the dining room. Her parents were already there, and Sophie was sitting in her usual place. Breakfast was laid out before them, with racks of toast and plates of fruit and various jams. There were also muffins, the smell of freshly baked bread filling the air. Clara loved that smell; it made her think of her childhood days when she and Sophie would sit out on the terrace and play during the summer, and the kitchen window would be open. The smell of the bread would float up through the air, and it was enough to make her stomach growl all day.

“Good morning, dear.” Lady Helena gave her a smile, this one reaching her eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough.”

Clara sat down and reached for a muffin and jam. She glanced at Sophie, eating toast and nibbling some grapefruit. She could tell the sadness was back and wondered if their father had anything to do with it. Then again, Sophie had been missing Arthur for some time now. They had to sneak around, and that wasn’t healthy.

She wished she could say something to cheer her sister up, but she’d promised not to say anything about Arthur. Clara needed to protect her sister.

“When are you and Thomas Gardiner going to get married, Clara?”

In the process of cutting her muffin open, Clara almost sliced her hand with the butter knife as her fingers slipped. She stared at her father, watching her with a serious expression.

“I beg your pardon, Father?” Clara put the muffin down and checked her hand. She’d felt the blunt end touch her skin, but she couldn’t see any abrasions. “I’m not getting married to him.”

“Oh?” Sir Edmund frowned. “But Gardiner said his son was going to ask you last night. And I saw the two of you talking apart from everyone else.”

“He never asked me to marry him, Father.” Now Clara could see why Thomas wanted her to join him on a morning ride. “He did confess that he loved me, but I turned him down.”

Sir Edmund groaned.

“Not again.”

“What?”

“You do this every time. Any time a gentleman expresses an interest in you, you turn them away before they get a chance.”

Clara sighed and reached for her coffee cup.

“Why would I want to marry someone who proclaims love for me and expects me to love him back without any effort made on his side?” she argued.

“Isn’t saying he loves you enough?”

“Not when he thinks I can do the same when I’ve barely spent time with him and he just stands at the other end of the room staring at me.”

“Clara,” Lady Helena warned. “Could you stop that? Your father only wanted to know why you turned Mr. Gardiner down.”

“The Gardiner family is wealthy, and they have good connections,” Sir Edmund declared. “They would be perfect for our family.”

Clara shook her head, finishing cutting up her muffin. She then used the same knife to spread butter across the freshly baked surface.

“There’s nothing romantic from me to him, Father. And I don’t wish to marry simply because he’s supposedly a good match.”

Sir Edmund snorted.

“You think love is the be-all and end-all when it comes to marriage. Look at your mother and me. We’re doing fine, and we weren’t a love match.”

But when Clara glanced over at her mother, she saw a shadow pass across the older woman’s face. Sir Edmund would never notice that his wife was unhappy, and she had been the whole time they were married. He munched his toast, gesturing at Sophie as she finished her grapefruit.

“Don’t forget that Sophie is going to start her first Season soon, and she’s going to be finding herself a husband. However, because you’re the older daughter, you need to find someone to marry as well.”

“Father …”

“I’m not going to have any arguments over this, Clara. You’re getting older, and you need to get yourself a husband.” Sir Edmund shook his head in disappointment as he reached for the newspaper again. “I don’t need the embarrassment of having my eldest daughter still unmarried in her mid-twenties.”

Clara bit her tongue before she could give him a sharp retort. She hated being seen as close to becoming a spinster, that she would be of no use once she was past a certain age. She didn’t like the thought of that hanging over her head, but it was preferable than getting married and turning into her mother. She didn’t want to be sad and distant from the man she would have to call her husband for the rest of her life.

If she told her father that she didn’t want to be miserable like her mother, though, he would likely not listen. He didn’t listen very often unless it was to his benefit.

They continued their breakfast in silence, Sophie and Clara glancing at each other across the table. She could see her sister’s sadness, and Clara knew Sophie wasn’t happy about having to find a husband in the London ton. It wasn’t for her, either.

What was wrong with wanting something for themselves?

Sir Edmund was the one who finished his breakfast first, folding the paper and standing up.

“I’ll be in my study, and then I’ll head over to the club for lunch,” he declared. “I’ll be very busy.”

Nobody responded to him. He said this every morning, as predictable as anyone could be. Not even Lady Helena said anything, keeping her head down as she buttered her breakfast muffin. Sir Edmund sniffed and put his paper under his arm, leaving the room without a word. As the door closed behind him, Lady Helena turned to Clara.

“I told him not to bring up Thomas Gardiner, dear,” she said. “I did tell him you’d have turned him down.”

“It’s fine, Mother.” Clara smiled at her. “I’m used to it. You just learn to get on with it and not let it bother you.”

“I wish he would stop pushing you two into marriage when you’re not ready. I remember how that went for me.”

“You ended up married instead of doing what you wanted,” Sophie said.

Lady Helena looked away, and Clara knew she was thinking about what she could’ve had. At Clara’s age, Helena Whitmore had been a talented and accomplished musician, and she was destined for great things. At one performance with lots of civic dignitaries and royal diplomats, she’d caught the attention of the Russian ambassador. Not long after, she’d been offered a position as a court musician in the Russian royal palace, even being tutor to Empress Catherine’s grandson, Alexander, who was a toddler at the time, and to the future grandchildren. But her parents had forbidden it, telling her she had to do what was right for the family and marry instead.

So, she’d ended up married to Edmund Whitmore. Clara was aware from a young age how distant the couple was from each other, and how Sir Edmund barely looked at his wife. Was it because there was no love and it was forced? Or was it due to her mother not giving Sir Edmund any sons? That could be a source of discontent, but Clara hadn’t been able to ask.

She just knew that she couldn’t cope being in an unhappy marriage for twenty-five years. If she was to be married that long, she needed love and happiness, feeling safe and warm with her husband.

She wished her mother could’ve been given her dream future. Then maybe she would smile more, and it would reach her eyes.

“Anyway,” Sir Edmund said later as she reached for a pile of opened letters beside her plate. “We’ve got things to do before we head to London next week. I’ve already got invitations sent to us for various events across the city.”

“Like what?” Sophie asked.

“Balls, garden parties, and several dinner parties.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows.

“How does someone sort out a dinner party this early? They don’t know me, do they?”

“They know me, and you’ll be coming along as well. Both of you.” Sir Edmund looked at Clara. “I’m going to ask you two for advice on what you want to go to, but we need to accept as many as we can.”

“What about our music?” Clara asked. “Are we expected to perform?”

“Only if you want to. Would you like me to set up a recital or two for you both to perform at?”

Clara felt a sliver of excitement as she glanced at Sophie. Both liked to perform when they had the choice. Last night was one of the few times they didn’t want to, but this was something else. Lady Helena knew what they liked, after all. She paid more attention to her daughters.

There was also something Clara wanted to explore. She had heard of an up-and-coming young artist, Marcus Wainwright, and he had an exhibition a few days after she returned to London. She’d caught a glimpse of a painting recently, and it was stunning. She wanted to go and explore.

Unfortunately, she would have to figure out a way to sneak off from her family to look. Lady Helena would say no because of the location. It was away from their usual visits, in a slightly rougher area of London. Nobody from the ton would be seen there without an escort. Lady Helena liked that her daughters enjoyed all sorts of art, but she would still refuse.

Clara already had a plan, but she had to bide her time. She didn’t want to get confined to her room within days of arriving in London.

And, at least, this was something she could do for herself instead of bowing down to what her father wanted.