As You Are (21 page)

“Corbin!” Clara’s voice was urgent but whispered.

He followed her wide-eyed stare. Not one hundred yards ahead of them was a man on a coffee-brown mount. Corbin recognized him after less than a moment—Robert Bentford—and he was making his way toward them.

“Corbin.” Her voice had turned pleading.

“I won’t let him hurt you, Clara.” Corbin sidled up so he and Elf stood between her and the approaching man.

“I knew he wouldn’t give up. I knew it,” Clara muttered.

When Bentford drew near enough to hear without Corbin raising his voice, Corbin calmly, authoritatively said, “Get off my land, Bentford.”

“Clara.” Bentford ignored Corbin. “There is no point hiding here. The trial can be held without you, though I wouldn’t recommend it. Judges look harshly on criminals who do not attend their own trial.”

“I am not a criminal.”

“Make it easier on yourself and come with me.” Bentford spoke with all the trustworthiness of a snake. “I am certain we can work this out.”

There was an insinuation in Bentford’s tone that made Corbin’s blood pound in his veins.

Bentford moved his mount closer. “Clara. You know—”

The man ceased his comments at precisely the same moment Corbin pulled his pistol. All the brothers had decided that being armed would be a good idea so long as Bentford remained in the vicinity.

“Get off my land,” Corbin repeated slowly so each word was punctuated. He wasn’t pointing his weapon; he was simply holding it in a way that proved he knew how to use it.

“You plan to hang alongside her?” Bentford spat.

“For shooting a man trespassing on my property and threatening my guest?”

“I wasn’t threatening—”

“That would be difficult to prove if you are dead.”

Bentford pulled his mount back. “This isn’t over, Jonquil,” he hissed.

“It could be over in a flash, Bentford.” Corbin’s heart pounded. He’d never shot a man before. He didn’t want to and was counting on Bentford being unwilling to call his bluff. Were Clara in immediate danger he would, of course, do whatever was necessary for her safety. Corbin sincerely hoped it didn’t come to that.

“You cannot hide forever, Clara,” Bentford said in parting. In less than a minute, he had disappeared.

Corbin put away his weapon, breathing a silent sigh of relief.

“He will never leave me be.” Clara’s voice shook. “I will spend the rest of my life running from him.”

Corbin silently vowed he wouldn’t let that happen.

Corbin received a letter from Jason that evening. He read it several times, assuring himself he had not misread the missive. He gave it to Clara after dinner and watched her as she read it, knowing what it contained. She read it aloud, as the rest of the family was not privy to its contents.

Corbin,

The meeting with Lords Devereaux and Henley and the Dukes of Hartley and Kielder went well. All are willing to back Mrs. Bentford against Mr. Robert Bentford.

The Duke of Hartley proved especially helpful. He does, in fact, know Mr. Robert Bentford and possesses information which would prove damaging to that man’s character and would most likely bring down upon him his creditors.

Lord Devereaux has identified the judge who will be in Sussex for the assizes, and he, along with Crispin and Lord Henley, in possession of the letters we only just received from the Marquess of Grenton and Philip, will visit him personally tomorrow morning.

Please tell Mrs. Bentford not to worry. The charges will, without a doubt, be dismissed.

Yours, etc.

Jason

Clara seemed to be reading the letter again. Corbin watched, wanting to see the worry disappear from her eyes. He’d hoped their ride would have had that effect. But thanks to Robert Bentford, it had not. She had, at least, joined the family for dinner, something she’d not yet done since coming to Havenworth. Corbin took that as a good sign.

“He seems very confident,” she said weakly.

“Jason knows what he’s about,” Layton reassured her, standing nearby as well. “If he says the charges will be dropped, they will be.”

Clara’s gaze locked with Corbin’s. He could easily read in her eyes the question she didn’t speak out loud. She wanted to believe Jason was correct, desperately wanted to, but had known too much disappointment to let herself feel relief. He gave her a firm nod.

Suddenly, Clara’s face went unearthly pale.

“Clara?” he whispered urgently, crossing immediately to her. She leaned against him, still staring at the letter.

“I won’t have to stand trial? I’m not facing transportation or . . . or anything?” Her words were oddly halted, as though her brain and mouth weren’t fully communicating with one another.

“No,” Corbin replied. “All of those worries are behind you.”

She took an audible breath. Her arms dropped to her sides, her strength obviously spent. Corbin kept an arm around her, wishing he could do more. Clara pressed her open hand against his chest, resting ever more of her weight against him.

“She needs to rest, Corbin,” Mater said. “You’d best take her to her room.”

“Mater.” Corbin felt his face burn with embarrassment. Accompanying a lady to her bedchamber was not within the realm of acceptable behavior for a bachelor.

Mater just chuckled. “I had planned to go with you, son.”

Corbin exchanged a brief glance with Clara, asking silently her opinion on Mater’s instructions.

“I am more than a little worn down,” Clara said. “I probably should rest.”

He walked slowly down the corridor, simply enjoying her closeness and the rare moment of being the one to help rather than the one watching uselessly. He felt Clara shift beside him and, without warning, press a brief kiss to his jaw. Heat stole up his neck and over his face. She was too close not to notice.

“Thank you, Corbin,” she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I couldn’t have endured this without you.”

“It has been my absolute pleasure,” he answered.

They reached Clara’s bedchamber. True to her word, Mater accompanied them inside, though she kept a distance.

“Try to rest,” Corbin said. “You no longer need to be concerned about Mr. Bentford.”

But she didn’t look the least relieved. Worry clouded her eyes.

“What is it, Clara?”

She gave a small shake of her head. “He won’t stop simply because he can no longer use the law to get what he wants. He said it himself just today. He’ll find me. No matter where I go, he’ll find me.”

She spoke as though she meant to “go” somewhere very soon. “Are you leaving?” he asked, his heart dropping at the words.

“So long as I stay here, he’ll not give anyone a moment’s peace. Not me, not the children. Not even you.” A resigned determination crossed her features. “But you promised to look after my children. You promised to take care of them.”

“Clara.” He did not at all like the direction this conversation was taking.

“Mr. Bentford has no interest in Edmund or Alice, except as a means of punishing me. He’ll leave them be if I am not with them. He’ll spend his time and energy looking for me. They could have a safe and happy life.”

“Clara.” He took both her arms in his hands, locking his gaze with hers. “You are . . . Are you honestly thinking of . . . of leaving the children?” Not only the children, but she was talking about leaving
him
too.

“I don’t know what else to do.” Tension pulled at her features and pinched her words. “Mr. Bentford knows I’m here. And being on your land didn’t keep him away. He was here today; you saw him.”

“He was forced to leave,” Corbin reminded her.

“Because you were with me. What if you aren’t the next time? What if he snatches one of the children to force my hand?”

Corbin’s heart pounded ever harder. He understood the source of her fear. He couldn’t think of any arguments that would nullify her worries. If Mr. Bentford needed the money from her jointure so badly, he likely would be willing to snatch her away, with or without the blessing of the law. What risk was there to him in doing it? He was her closest male relative. Few people would side against him in family matters.

“I cannot stay here and put the lives of the people I care about in danger. Neither can I ask the children to live their lives as nomads, always looking over their shoulders, afraid of their own shadows.” Her shoulders squared. Her expression cleared. “Until I can be certain Mr. Bentford will leave me be, I have to do what is best for my children.”

“Is there nothing I can say to make . . . to convince you to stay?”

“I can’t.”

There were no words after that, nothing Corbin could force his mouth to formulate. She didn’t feel safe with him. She didn’t feel that she could stay. She trusted him enough to care for her children but couldn’t bring herself to believe in him more than that.

He gave her a quick, awkward good-bye and quitted the room.

“That poor young lady,” Mater said once the door was shut behind them. “She has obviously had a difficult life.”

Corbin nodded.
Difficult
seemed too tame a word. An abusive husband, a father who seemed much the same, a brother-in-law who beat her, imposed upon her, and was now attempting to have her punished for protecting herself from him, whose underhanded methods were forcing her to leave behind her own children. If only Corbin knew how to set her at ease, how to save her from the cruel hand fate had dealt her.

Mater linked her arm with his, and they began walking. “I have watched you, Corbin, since coming for this visit. You are in love with her.”

There was no point denying it. Mater had always been able to read him like a book—she had that ability with all of the brothers, in fact.

“And?” Mater prodded.

“She . . .”
Thinks I’m an idiot. Doesn’t know I exist.
No. He didn’t think she thought of him that way any longer. “She doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I . . . I tried. I tried being fashionable and making an impression that way. And I . . . I tried to seem more assertive. That didn’t work. The family even . . . even forced me onto her pew. But she—” He shook his head in frustration. “She is grateful to me, but I can’t seem to . . . Nothing I do—” He wasn’t sure how to finish the thought. Clara didn’t love him or trust him enough to stay with him.

“Oh, Corbin.” Mater stopped him in the middle of the corridor, squeezing his arm. “Being something you are not isn’t the way to win a woman’s affections.”

“Being
me
doesn’t seem to be the way either.”

“If Clara Bentford does not love you, Corbin Lucas Jonquil, precisely as you are, then she is not the lady for you, my dear.” Mater gently patted his cheek.

But I want her to be. I want her to love me.
He remained silent.

“So stop listening to your brothers.”

“How did—?”

She lightly laughed and explained. “No one but Philip would suggest you needed to be flamboyantly fashionable. And Jason, I would guess, suggested being assertive. Harold would tell you to quote holy writ day in and day out, which would get tedious. Layton would have, at one time, told you there was no point trying. Charlie would most likely shrug and ask if you wanted to go for a ride. And Stanley, well, I’m not sure he would have any advice. All he managed to do once he met a young lady who captured his attention was play backgammon with her. I love your brothers dearly, but they aren’t very bright.”

Corbin actually smiled despite the weight on his heart.

“Sorrel fell in love with Philip only
after
he stopped acting the part of a mindless dandy. Marion fell for Layton only
after
he let down his defensive wall. It was only after they stopped trying to be something they weren’t that they won their fair maidens.”

“What if—” He took a steadying breath. “What if Clara never—” He shook his head.
What if she truly leaves me?

Mater smiled her understanding. “Let us deal with that if it happens. And let us hope that it doesn’t.”

Corbin managed a half smile. Mater was generally optimistic, but he found himself hard-pressed to match her. Clara was running scared, and he was losing her. Nothing he could think of would change the reasons for her flight. Mr. Bentford
would
likely continue to harass her if he knew where she was. She was going to leave, and Corbin’s heart would never recover.

I won’t let that happen
, he silently vowed.
No matter how many people I have to talk to, no matter how many favors I have to call in. Somehow, someway, I won’t allow this to happen to her.

Clara, with the help of Suzie and Fanny, spent a few days packing her things at Ivy Cottage while the children were busy at Havenworth. She hadn’t yet decided how to break the news of her departure to Alice or Edmund. How could she possibly make them understand why she had to leave? Would they grow to hate her for it? She hoped not. She hoped someday they would look back and realize the necessity of it.

Perhaps she could visit Edmund at Eton if she was very careful about it. Years down the road when Alice made her debut, Clara could take a house in London for the Season and watch from a distance.

Pain radiated through her every time she thought of leaving them. She would miss so much of their lives. But what else could she do? She couldn’t put them in danger. So long as Mr. Bentford was looking for her, she would never be entirely safe. If the children were with her, they would be in danger as well.

Leaving them would be the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she needed to find the strength to do it.

Corbin arrived at the cottage at precisely the time he’d promised, just as he had the last two days. The cottage was nearly empty, all of Clara’s belongings in crates and barrels. She kept the children’s things separate so they could be taken to Havenworth when the time was right.

Corbin had sent the letter she wrote to her man of business in London a couple of days earlier, along with a letter he himself was sending to Town. She expected to hear back within the week. Mr. Clark knew of several houses to let in various small hamlets throughout the countryside. He could find her something hidden away.