Fated Folly Read Free Page B

and—hrumph—and tell him how to conduct his affairs.’
    â€˜ But I didn’t,’ Clare said despairingly. ‘He did not give me the opportunity to do so.’
    â€˜ She knew it was improper,’ uttered her mother. ‘Or she would not have come to you with this confession.’
    Her father pounced on this, throwing out an accusing forefinger. ‘Ah! How do you answer that, miss?’
    Clare regarded her feet, warmth rising in her cheeks. ‘Well, I thought he—he might take it into his head to mention the matter, and—and I thought I had better tell you myself, just in case.’
    Her father shot a questioning look at his wife, seeking guidance. Clare gave an inward sigh. It was invariably Mama’s dictum that ruled in any matter concerning their offspring. It was true enough that Papa was far too indulgent and fond a parent to be capable of sustaining his side of any complaint against one of her two brothers and Clare herself.
    She watched the agitation of Lady Carradale’s fan, which clearly spoke her emotions as her eyes ran wildly about the white and gilded ornamentation to the brocaded walls and furnishings, as if they might afford her inspiration.
    â€˜ Sir Rupert did not mind it. Oh no. And yet the child felt he might complain of her conduct to her parents.’ She sighed. ‘There is nothing for it, Carradale. You will have to see him and make our apologies.’
    â€˜ What?’ exclaimed her father, horrified.
    Clare was no less so. ‘Oh no! Oh don’t, Papa, pray. That would be mortifying indeed.’
    Her intervention was unfortunate, for her father bent the severity of his bespectacled gaze upon her. ‘Well—hrumph—let that be your punishment, miss. That it will embarrass me beyond words is neither here nor there.’
    â€˜ I am sorry, Papa,’ Clare uttered contritely, coming closer with a melting look on her face.
    Her father backed a step. ‘No, no. I am seriously displeased with you. Don’t try to play off your—um—cajolery on me this time. Hrumph. It will not work.’
    â€˜ And very glad I am to hear it,’ stated his wife, sitting up suddenly. ‘Not that it will last, of course. She will get round you soon enough.’ As if she feared that this might occur immediately, she turned on Clare, for the first time addressing her directly. ‘To your room, you little madam—at once!’
    Recognising defeat for the moment, Clare grimaced and, crossing the wide expanse of expensively carpeted flooring, passed from the room. But not before her mother had broken out again behind her.
    â€˜ It is all of a piece. Why Justin’s fancy must needs light upon Philippa Wolverley, I do not know. Look where it has led! You had better go at once, my dear, and get it over with. Before the child plays upon your heartstrings, as she always does.’
    Clare smiled a little as she went upstairs. She was perfectly aware that her mother’s annoyance would be as shortlived as her father’s. They could neither of them remain out of charity with her for long. Being the youngest and the only girl had its advantages.
    But she could not be other than agitated at the outcome of her confession. All through her shopping expedition with Pippa yesterday, she had thought of nothing but her meeting with Sir Rupert. Oddly, she could not think of him as Pippa’s uncle. Not until Pippa herself referred to him, as she dispiritedly sifted over several samples of sprigged lawn cloth in the linendrapers.
    â€˜ All I can hope is that my uncle may go home again to Buckinghamshire,’ she uttered mournfully, bringing Clare’s head round with a jerk from contemplation of a length of figured lace an assistant was wrapping for her.
    â€˜ Go home?’ she echoed involuntarily. ‘Oh, he won’t do that, will he?’
    Pippa, thankfully missing the oddity of her friend’s question, agreed