Free Sharon Sobel by The Eyes of Lady Claire (v5.0) (epub) Page A

required help over a fallen tree. Or truly, just to be lifted into his arms.
    “You are thinking how his guilt has made him shy,” said Camille, for once not guessing what Claire was thinking. “But it is different than that. He is not concerned with protecting himself, but with protecting me.”
    “Camille, you are a fine young lady. Everything I said to Lord Wentworth is absolutely true, and you can most certainly hold your own in London society. Is it not time to prove to him that you can protect yourself?”
    “I was unable to do so when our beautiful home burned to the ground.”
    “You were a child, still in short dresses and pinafores. Your brother was not that many years older.”
    “He believes he started the fire and killed our parents.”
    “So it is said, and it is a terrible thing,” Claire said. She did not know what else she could add to this, so she picked up her cold toast and dipped it into her tea. For the past few weeks, Camille seemed to be diverted from the horror that defined her life and her brother’s, but now that he returned to Brook Cottage, she wondered if the nightmare would be revisited again and again. And yet, each time a nightmare returned, there was something else to be seen and understood. Camille herself seemed to say as much just now.
    “Why do you say ‘believe’? Is it not certain what happened?”
    Camille shrugged her slim shoulders. “How can it be? Maxwell did not see the fire begin, for he was asleep as any child should be at midnight. He only wonders if he neglected to see to the cinders in the library fireplace, as he promised to do before he went to bed.”
    “Did the fire start in the library?”
    “No one knows.”
    “Were there other people awake?”
    “Most certainly. And several of them died as well.”
    “So they cannot bear witness. What do you think happened?”
    Camille considered this for several moments, though she surely went over the events of that night through all these years since. “I do not know; I only know I do not blame my brother. If he had not come for me, and dragged me out of my chamber, I would have been dead along with the others.”
    “I was too hard on him, Camille. He has endured so much, and I dared to doubt his instincts and decisions,” Claire said, knowing that this small parcel of guilt would now forever be hers.
    Camille laughed as joyfully as she did when Claire first entered the room sometime before.
    “He will forgive you; I am sure he already has. In fact, I am now even more certain there is nothing to forgive.”
    Claire pushed back from her seat. “How on earth can you say such a thing? I was dreadful to him.”
    “Not so very dreadful,” Camille said, brushing invisible crumbs off her bodice. “After all, he did not ask you to leave. He cannot abide strangers in this house, and certainly not those who defy his wishes. And yet, here you are, and very likely to stay, so I believe he can abide you.”
    As a point of consolation, it was very, very slight.
    ***
    Late in the afternoon, after Claire and Camille spent some time fastening new ribbons and nosegays to several serviceable bonnets they discovered in the back of Camille’s armoire, Mr. Cosgrove came to call on Lord Wentworth, to welcome him home. Camille promptly lost interest in her flowery creation and left Claire to her bows and pins and scissors and wandered out into the hallway with none of her usual sureness of step. Claire watched her as she reached out for the touchstones of chairs and table until she reached the open door, and wondered if she regretted the things she said at the breakfast table.
    Perhaps it was time for her to leave, Claire mused. What seemed like a pleasurable prospect only weeks before, a challenge that would thoroughly engage her interests and talents, was now a family drama in which she played no part. Even if she succeeded in presenting Lady Camille to London society, what lasting benefit would result? Camille might or might