Falling for an Earl’s Deception (Preview)

Prologue

Clara stood in the shade of a tree and watched as her party carried on without her. The children having fun were oblivious to the fact she had walked away from her own celebration.

They were either sitting at the table eating or lying on the grass talking and laughing. Some of the slightly older boys were gathered on the terrace, huddled together. Her brother was one of them, his laugh the loudest of the lot.

Clara hated that his friends were there as well. It was meant to be her birthday, so the fact he had been allowed some guests of his own had upset her. But her parents said it was to keep him occupied, and Edward wouldn’t want to be sitting around with several little children.

That made no sense. Clara was thirteen now. The majority of the guests were her age. They weren’t little children. But, she surmised, at sixteen they must be worlds apart. It was infuriating, though, seeing how Edward had quite a few friends and they were all focused on him, while Clara’s guests…

They weren’t really her friends. One or two were, and they were solid in their friendship, as far as she was concerned. Clara would have been happy to have a small garden party with a few select people, but her parents had been insistent. They were to have a big celebration, and they would take care of everything.

The pair were so desperate to become proper members of Society that they didn’t care about their daughter’s discomfort. It was all about making themselves look good to everyone else.

Clara wanted to leave. She didn’t want to be there anymore. Especially when she had people looking at her and giving her that expression which made her self-conscious. It was never going to go away, no matter what people thought.

“Clara?”

Clara turned. Eleanor was walking toward her, looking beautiful in a pale blue dress with her hair pinned back from her face. A flash of envy shot through Clara, but she pushed it away. It wasn’t fair to turn her insecurities onto one of her genuine friends, even though she felt even plainer beside her.

“I was wondering where you were,” Eleanor said. “Nobody knew where you’d gone.”

“I’ve been here all this time. I haven’t gone anywhere.”

Eleanor regarded her thoughtfully, her blue eyes piercing. Clara had no idea how she managed to make a look like that so intimidating, but Eleanor was very good at it. Probably something she got from her father, a banker in the city. He and his daughter were very much alike.

“You’re not enjoying yourself, are you?” Eleanor asked quietly.

Clara wanted to lie, but she didn’t have the strength for it. Her shoulders slumping, she shook her head.

“No. I’m not. I just want to get away from this, but Mother…she’ll be furious.”

“You could just go into the house?” Eleanor suggested. “Say you’re feeling unwell, and you need to be out of the sun. We all know that you’re not good in the heat.”

She had a point about that. Clara had noticed her skin getting redder the longer she stood out in the bright sunshine. With the pale-yellow dress she was wearing, it would be very obvious, much like the fact she was wearing yellow with her bright red hair. It was not a good combination. Clara felt her face getting warm as her annoyance built. She wasn’t even allowed to dress herself. She was growing up now, so why couldn’t she choose what she wanted? It was not fair.

She felt like a doll being moved around and forced to do something when she wasn’t happy with it. It made her want to scream.

“Why don’t we go down to the river?” Eleanor suggested. “You and I can sit in the shade for a while until you feel ready to return to everyone.”

“But what about the guests?” Clara gave the garden a rueful look. “Mother and Father won’t be happy if I leave out of sight.”

“Have they actually noticed that you’ve gone?”

Clara looked up on the terrace at her parents. Edward and Felicity Winthrop were sitting with some of the other parents, Felicity under a parasol that she kept neatly tilted to block the sun from her face. Edward Winthrop himself was discussing something with a gentleman with white hair and a thick beard, his hands gesturing as they did when he was deep into a story. Neither of them had looked over at her in some time.

Eleanor was right. They hadn’t noticed her at all. They were more interested in their own conversations. Clara was, essentially, invisible to her own family.

She hated that she knew that about herself.

“Come on.” Eleanor smiled as she took her friend’s arm. “Let’s go. It’ll be cooler down there.”

Clara couldn’t argue with that. There was a river running through the bottom of their garden, casting into a small waterfall with plenty of rocks to sit on. During the summer, the trees spread its branches overhead and made it a secluded area. It was cool and breezy, just what was needed on a hot summer’s day.

Clara wished she had her birthday in spring. It was cooler and there was no chance of burning up. Even winter, when it was freezing cold and she could cover up. With her skin, she managed to turn red even keeping out of the sun. The humidity did not help at all.

Her brother had the red hair as well, and he did turn a little pink, but he didn’t have the freckles. They were the bane of her life, spread all across her body to the point it looked like she had a rash.

It was frustrating. Nobody else in her family suffered from this, and Clara was stuck sticking out like a sore thumb, even when she was in the background.

And thinking like that on her birthday wasn’t going to make things any better. She needed to take a deep breath and leave it to one side. It was just going to make her upset again.

The water flowed down the small waterfall and splashed into the little pool below before moving on into the river. Clara wished she could jump into the water and splash around, but she would have gotten into trouble.

Maybe paddling her feet wouldn’t be a problem, though. If no one had noticed her leave, then she might get away with it.

Even so, she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder, back toward the house. She didn’t want to be caught like that.

“Oh, sit down, Clara.” Eleanor tugged her hand, already seated on a flat rock. “Stop fretting.”

“What if someone comes after me to find out where I’ve gone?”

Eleanor snorted.

“If they don’t know where you’ve gone, from your own birthday celebrations, then they don’t deserve to be family.”

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”

“Given how your parents treat you…”

Her friend let that trail off, and Clara knew what she was thinking. Eleanor was outspoken when they weren’t around everyone else. She had an opinion on everything, including Clara’s parents. Not that she could be blamed; Edward and Felicity Winthrop were just not kind people. They were so focused on moving up the social ladder they didn’t care about anything else.

It was not something she wanted, though. Clara just wanted to be left alone. There was more to life than being close to noble men and women.

“I know you’re not feeling celebratory right now,” Eleanor said as she stretched her legs out, dangling her feet over water. “But I hope you can find some joy today.”

“I did when you gave me those books. That was lovely, Eleanor.”

“I saw the way your face lit up. It’s a shame that your parents didn’t think the same way.”

Clara made a face.

“I don’t know what they expect of me. They want me to learn other languages, and you go out of your way to get me my favorite books in French, and they’re not happy about it. They’ve hired a language tutor for me! What more do they want?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure they’re going to want you to do better than they expect of you.” Eleanor brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “After all, you are quite proficient in French already. They should be happy you’re taking an interest.”

“I guess I’ll never live up to their expectations. Especially when they’re so focused on something they know I’m not excited about.” Clara picked at a strand of thread coming out of the hem of her skirt. “They’re just incredibly strict, wanting to be just like all the others in Society. I even heard them talking about marriage prospects the other day.”

Eleanor stared at her.

“What? They’re already discussing marriage for you?”

“It sounded like it.”

“But we’re not even old enough to be contemplating that! How can they be talking about something like that so early?”

Clara let out a heavy sigh.

“I have no idea, and I really don’t understand it. I’ve heard about preparing for every eventuality, but…”

“Surely, they know that this is something you have to discuss with them, right? They should take your opinion into account.”

“When did they last ask for my opinion? Careful, Eleanor, you’re going to lose your…”

Eleanor gasped, and pulled her feet back, but it was too late. Her shoe fell off and landed with a splash into the water. Clara scrambled up.

“We’d better get that! Your parents will be very upset if you lose your best shoes!”

Her friend clambered after her as Clara made her way along the bank, kneeling and stretching out toward the slipper as it floated along. Her fingers brushed against it, and Clara grabbed it as her balance wobbled. Squealing, she grabbed onto the bank and managed to pull herself back.

Only to be shoved hard in the back and she was thrown into the water. Clara squealed as it closed over her head, and she swallowed water, making her choke. For a moment, she panicked, and she flailed about. Then she remembered where she was and put her feet under her, pushing up to break the surface. The water came up to her waist, freezing cold in the hot water.

But it had left her dress ruined. It clung to her body, and Clara couldn’t stop shivering. Her hair was ragged and dripping into the river. She felt something tickling her face and she swatted at it, the item coming away in her hand. It was a weed.

“You oaf!” Eleanor screamed.

Clara looked up and saw Eleanor hitting William Ashworth on the arm as he laughed. Her heart sank. Of all the people to do this to her, why did it have to be him? Her brother’s closest friend was a nasty piece of work.

He was just horrible toward her without any true motivation, other than to embarrass her and make her cry. Clara had complained about him plenty of times, but nobody cared. They thought it was sweet that he was paying her attention, even if he left her in tears.

Her anger rose very quickly, as it always did around the boy. How could someone at the tender age of sixteen be so horrible?

She waded to the edge of the river and clambered out. William was still laughing, even with Eleanor squaring up to him.

“You should see you right now!” he declared. “You look like a drowned rat!”

“You beast!” Clara screamed. She glared at him. “What did you do that for?”

“Well, you were there, and it was a tempting sight. So I thought I’d cool you off in the river.”

Eleanor pushed him in the chest, knocking him back a little. She jabbed a finger at him.

“You’re disgusting!” she shouted. “You always go after Clara! What did she do to you that you think you can assault her like this?”

“Assault?” William looked affronted. “I certainly didn’t commit such an assault.”

“You put your hands on Clara to harm her! That is assault!” Eleanor put her hands on her hips. “I don’t care who you are or who your family is, but you pushed Clara and now look at her! That is your fault!”

William looked as if he didn’t care. Clara doubted that he cared about anyone except himself, and even then, he was reckless with it. He certainly liked to use the fact he was the son of an earl to his advantage. It seemed to get him out of a lot of trouble.

“Anyway, I heard what you were discussing before Clara decided to go for a swim.” He cast a smirk in Clara’s direction. “There’s a reason why your parents haven’t talked to you about marriage prospects. You’re never going to get any.”

Clara didn’t think it was possible for her anger to snap, but it was getting close. She bared her teeth at him, her fists clenched.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you’re never going to have anyone interested in you. Not with the way you look.” William gestured at her. “You’re ugly, bright red hair and all of those marks on your face. You’re like a spotted hen. Nobody’s going to want to marry someone who looks as ugly as you, Hen.”

There it was. That name he had for her. William kept calling her ‘Hen’, and Clara hated it. She wished she could slap him for it every time, but her parents had told her it was nothing, that he was just giving her a term of endearment. Clara didn’t believe that at all.

He just did it to be nasty.

Clara charged at him, but William darted away, laughing as he held up his hands.

“Don’t start clucking now, Hen. You’re going to end up laying an egg.”

Snarling, she tried to follow him, only for Eleanor to grab her arm and pull her back. Still laughing, William went back to the house, waving a hand over his shoulder. Clara’s heart pounded, her fury brimming over. She wanted to go after him and scratch his eyes out, to hurt him as he had done to her.

Then the tears began to fill her eyes. She couldn’t believe this had happened on her. Not on her birthday.

“I can’t believe he did that.” Eleanor sounded as incensed as Clara felt. “If I’d gotten to you sooner…”

“It wasn’t your fault, Eleanor.” Clara brushed her hair away from her face. “Let’s get back to the house before we’re noticed. I’m sure William is telling my brother and his friends about this.”

“All right. But can we get into the house without being seen?”

“Easily. We just have to go around the other size of the rose garden and in through the servants’ entrance.” Clara couldn’t stop shaking. Even with the warm day, she wasn’t going to dry off that well. “Let’s go. I’m so cold.”

“All right.” Eleanor took her hand, and they started back toward the main garden. “He’s almost a grown man. I can’t believe he would behave like that toward you.”

“He’s been doing it for years. It’s almost like a hobby for him.” Clara scowled. “I hate him so much, but Edward thinks he’s a good friend.”

Eleanor scoffed.

“Doesn’t he know about this?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he actively encourages it. You know, when I told my parents about it after he made me cry at the Christmas party last year after enduring him for the last three years, Mother said he only does it because he likes me.”

“Really? That was her response?”

Clara nodded. She could feel her tears streaking down her cheeks.

“I don’t understand it. If you like someone, why would you be mean to them? And it’s not just him. It’s the rest of their group of friends. Does that mean all of them are in love with me? That’s just ridiculous.”

Eleanor gave her a sympathetic look, and it just made Clara cry even harder.

 

Chapter One

Clara

Ten Years Later

“You don’t need to skulk in the corner, my dear,” Mrs. Harrington said as she moved to stand beside Clara. “You can come and join us, if you like.”

“I don’t feel comfortable, Mrs. Harrington,” Clara admitted, trying not to adjust her dress for the fifth time in as many minutes. “I feel… exposed.”

“It’s just the fashion of the new gowns. It’s nothing people haven’t seen before.”

“But they haven’t got… this.” Clara gestured at her upper chest. “I look like I’ve got the pox.”

The current fashions were not something she was happy with at all. There were lower necklines on the gowns. They were modest enough, but it was too much for Clara. She wanted to wear a dress when she had a higher neckline to cover most of the freckles and moles on her body. They were all over her face, so to expose other parts of her body made Clara want to hide again. She was able to cover her hands and lower arms with gloves, but her upper arms, her chest, neck…

Everyone could see what she looked like. There were people who couldn’t stop staring at the sight, and others who gave her a wide berth as if she was contagious. Clara understood why, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“Dear, you don’t look like you’ve got the pox. Trust me on that.” Eleanor’s mother placed a hand on Clara’s arm. “You look lovely in that dress. It’s your nerves that everyone is picking up on. When you’re nervous, you start scowling.”

“Do I?”

“I’ve known you for years, Clara, dear. You don’t look approachable when you’re nervous.”

Clara bit her lip. She hadn’t noticed that. Or maybe she had, and she just didn’t care. At the age of three-and-twenty, she was mostly left alone. Not that she minded as long as she had Eleanor’s attention, but even her friend would be unable to meet with her as much as possible. They were celebrating her engagement, after all.

It was a joyous occasion for everyone, and Clara was happy for her friend. But it felt like everyone was moving on with their lives, whereas Clara was stuck where she was. And nobody was helping her to move on with anything, least of all when it came to marriage prospects. Her parents had tried, but there was no interest.

Maybe William Ashworth had been right all along. She was ugly, and it was never going to happen.

“Please, Clara, put a smile on your face.” Mrs. Harrington squeezed her hand. “I worry about you.”

“Do you?”

“You hide away in the corner, and I get concerned that people are going to forget you. You don’t deserve that.”

Clara managed a wry smile and shrugged.

“Maybe I do. I mean, I’m not beautiful or engaging like Eleanor, or any of our friends.”

Mrs. Harrington snorted.

“Nonsense! You’re stunning to look at, you’re elegant, charismatic and strong-willed. Plus, you’re very talented. I don’t think I know anyone else who is like you want it comes to learning something new.”

“I suppose.”

What Clara wanted to ask was where were the potential suitors if she was considered a catch. She certainly didn’t believe the stunning part, especially when she had to look at herself in the mirror. Whatever she had when it came to her multiple talents with music and languages didn’t make up for the lack of looks.

“Anyway, I know Eleanor is happy to have you here,” Mrs. Harrington went on. “You know how much it means to her for you to be present.”

“I’m glad I can be here with her as well.”

“Then make sure you put a smile on your face and be happy for her, my dear. Eleanor will worry too much about you. You know what she’s like.”

Clara felt like that was a jab at her being in a low mood, but she tried not to let it bother her, giving Eleanor’s mother a slight smile and a nod.

“Very well, Mrs. Harrington.”

She could try and cheer herself up for the woman, at the very least. Eleanor’s parents were family friends, and they were lovely people. They didn’t mind that Clara was around Eleanor all the time, being as thick as thieves.

They accepted her for who she was, and Mrs. Harrington was always trying to get Clara to come out of her comfortable state, to try and be something new. She meant well, but it could be annoying.

Although she did better than Felicity Winthrop. Mrs. Harrington actually listened.

Moving around the edge of the room, Clara’s thoughts turned to the sketch she had been working on the previous night. She remembered the articulate designs she had drawn on the skirt, around the bodice and the flowy sleeves. To her, it was beautiful, but a dress like that would be too much in this current society. It would make someone stand out in the wrong way, although it would draw the eye in. Clara wondered if it would ever become popular.

It was something she had a talent for. Drawing dress designs. It was fun for her to do, and Clara had an eye where she could pick out what would work on the page. She doubted any of them would see the light of day, but it was fun to do, thinking up the designs.

Maybe, one day, someone would see them, but Clara was happy to keep them to herself. Perhaps she could see something in the crowd tonight that would give her inspiration. It would keep her mind occupied.

Moving around the edge of the room, Clara took in the engagement party. Eleanor and her future husband, the heir-apparent to Baron Greenbrook, were a lovely-looking pair. As soon as she saw the two of them together, before young Fitzgerald Audley had asked Eleanor if he could court her, Clara knew the two of them would fall in love.

They were similar in their attitudes and ideals, and there was a love of life that both of them possessed. Eleanor certainly looked as if she was sparkling whenever she was around Mr. Audley. To hear they were engaged came as no surprise to Clara at all.

It would be perfect for her family. They were a family of bankers, and now Eleanor was marrying into the nobility. While her parents said they didn’t care as long as their daughter was happy, there was a sense they were pleased that Eleanor had found a good match.

“Clara!”

Clara couldn’t help but smile as Eleanor hurried over to her, her eyes shining brightly as she joined her friend. The two of them clasped hands together, and Eleanor beamed.

“I can’t believe it! There are so many people here! I didn’t think it was possible for that to happen.”

“Of course it would! You’re well-liked by everyone around you, Eleanor. Why wouldn’t people come to celebrate your engagement?”

“Even though I don’t feel like I know half of the guests?”

Clara laughed.

“You’ll be fine. I’m sure you’re going to be making everyone fall over themselves with your charm.”

“Oh, stop it.” Eleanor tilted her head to one side. “Are you all right? I noticed you hovering off to one side. If you’re uncomfortable, I won’t be upset if you…”

“If I leave? Don’t be daft, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I want to support my friend.”

Her friend’s expression showed her gratitude, squeezing Clara’s hands before releasing them. Then Eleanor looked over her shoulder at two approaching gentlemen.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I’ve got someone you should meet!”

Clara groaned.

“Don’t, Eleanor. You know I don’t want…”

“You don’t want to be introduced to someone? I know, but I promise this is just for the evening. I’m not expecting you to declare undying love at the end of the night.”

“You’d better not be expecting that.”

Eleanor laughed.

“Don’t worry, Clara. I won’t never do that to you. Anyway,” she turned to the gentleman beside Mr. Audley. “This is Anthony Rogers, Baron Parkworth. He has the estate next to Fitzgerald’s. This is my friend, Miss Clara Winthrop.”

Baron Parkworth bowed, keeping his gaze averted. Clara felt a flash of pain when he did that. Just like everyone else, he averted his gaze. It seemed to be a natural thing everyone did, and it was horrible. Clara hated that nobody could look at her properly, as if she was some sort of haggard beast. Gritting her teeth, she gave him a stiff nod.

“Baron Parkworth, good evening.”

“Miss Winthrop.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, and Clara guessed he was thinking that she was rude for not curtsying to him. But she wasn’t about to do that when he couldn’t even look at her. Rudeness toward her meant she gave it back, even if it wasn’t the right thing to do.

At this point, Clara was fed up with it.

“I’ve been talking to Baron Parkworth about you, Clara,” Eleanor went on, seeming to act as if she didn’t see the immediate tension between them. “He was keen to meet with you.”

“Oh, really now?” Clara raised her eyebrows. “And what exactly did you tell him about me?”

“I said you were a talented musician who could speak several languages, and you were probably the most well-read woman I’d ever met.” Eleanor sounded very proud when she said all of them. “That you were the best type of person possible.”

Clara could believe that, but she was also sure that Eleanor had over-exaggerated a bit as well. She had a habit of doing that in the past, and it could get a little embarrassing. It was quite nice that someone spoke highly of her, although it could make Clara squirm a bit. With the way she looked, it felt like a letdown to gentlemen who came across her.

“Why don’t you two have a dance?” Eleanor suggested. “We’re about to dance ourselves, so you could join us.”

“I don’t know…” Clara began.

“You’re a far better dancer than I am. You should show Baron Parkworth what you’re like on the dancefloor.”

Clara didn’t want to. She could dance, but she didn’t like it. That meant interacting with other people, and also made her aware that people didn’t want to dance with her.

She hated that people were judged based on their attractiveness. She wished it was different because it was horrible for her. And from the look on Baron Parkworth’s face, he would rather she turned him down.

She was trying, but Eleanor wasn’t about to take no for an answer. And this was her evening; Clara didn’t want to spoil it. Biting back a sigh, she fixed a smile on her face.

“Why not? Lead the way, Eleanor.”

Looking pleased, Eleanor and Mr. Audley walked away arm-in-arm. That left Clara with Baron Parkworth, and he was still not looking at her. She doubted he had actually looked at her properly. The man seemed to think she was not worth his attention. What Eleanor was thinking, she had no idea, but her aim to find a potential suitor for her friend was off. Again.

Squaring her shoulders and holding her head high, Clara stepped around the baron and followed Eleanor to where the dancing was happening. She was not going to allow any gentleman to treat her like that. She might not be as attractive as Society dictated, but she knew her worth. If he didn’t care to know her, that was nothing to do with her.

As she lined up beside Eleanor, Baron Parkworth appeared across from her, his expression blank. Now he was actually looking at her, and his eyes traveled over her bare skin, seeing the sight of the marks left on her body due to her freckles. Clara felt the sudden urge to cover up, but she wasn’t going to back down. She would not show her discomfort in front of him.

If he didn’t like it, she would have to put up with it for now. And then ask Eleanor to stop matching her with potential suitors when it wasn’t happening.

They began to dance. Baron Parkworth was good on his feet, and he could keep in time, but he was incredibly stiff. Clara tried to show that it didn’t bother her, carrying on as normal. She didn’t need to talk to the man to know that he had an opinion of her already and they hadn’t even spoken beyond the introduction. He saw her as a fortune hunter. Normally, that would make her bristle, but Clara had been there plenty of times before. She knew others believed she was someone looking for a title and wealth, even if it didn’t appeal to her.

She was stuck in an unfortunate category, and she couldn’t get out of it.

After what felt like an age, the dance finally finished, and the dancers clapped politely for the orchestra playing. Eleanor turned to Clara and clasped her hand.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“What?”

“Of Baron Parkworth? Do you think he’s attractive?”

Clara didn’t think so, but she took another look at the man as he talked to Mr. Audley. Tall, fair hair and a moustache, high cheekbones and chiseled features. He was handsome, and he cut a fine figure, but there was nothing there. Clara didn’t feel a flutter of anything at all. Except maybe annoyance that he had judged her before they had even said anything to each other.

“There’s no point in asking if he’s attractive, Eleanor.” Clara gestured at her face. “He didn’t like the look of this.”

Eleanor sighed.

“Clara, you have to try and find someone.”

“Just because you’ve found yourself someone you want to spend the rest of your life with doesn’t mean you need to help me find a gentleman.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

Clara rolled her eyes. She pulled her hand from her friend.

“I love you, Eleanor, but you really need to stop it. Baron Parkworth already thinks that I’m after his money. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye.”

“But he seemed so eager to meet you, though.”

“You didn’t tell him what I looked like, did you?”

“That shouldn’t be the deciding factor when you get to meet someone.”

“Unfortunately, with me, that’s definitely a deciding factor.”

Clara felt someone touch her on the shoulder, and immediately she felt her skin prickle. A shiver spread down her spine, and she froze. Somehow, she knew who was standing behind her. The years hadn’t ebbed that feeling.

Her heart pounding, she turned and saw a tall, dark-haired gentleman with the brightest green eyes she had ever seen behind her. He seemed far taller than she remembered, and Clara had to tilt her head back just to look at him. His shoulders were broad, as was his chest. He was clean-shaven, leaving his strong jawline free of a beard.

He looked different, but there was no mistaking those green eyes. Clara had seen them plenty of times over the years, usually mocking her and finding amusement in upsetting her.

Even his voice, deeper than she recalled, left her feeling the same sensations as before.

“Evening, Hen. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Of all the evenings to run into William Ashworth, it had to be that night.