"I do not understand what you are trying to do, Claire," Helen hissed as she grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of earshot of Elizabeth. "Really? You have on your finest day dress to greet a man you don't even like? And is that a bit of rouge I see on your cheeks? Are you trying to sabotage Elizabeth? Do not make me regret leaving you to chaperone them, Claire."

"You are the one who is sabotaging Elizabeth! Someone came to call on her last week and you made him leave!" Claire snapped back at her stepmother, wrenching her arm free of Helen's punishing grip.

"Bah! That boy is the brother of a baron, a soldier! He is not a fit suitor for her, not when we may have a Marquess in the cards."

"Does it matter that he was a soldier? She liked him!"

"She met him twice at supper parties, she doesn't know if she likes him!"

"I could say the same for the Marquess," Claire shot back. "Why, this is the first time after the tea party that we shall see him."

"But he had Lady Rothbury invite us to their ball in the coming week, did he not? There are even whispers of a house party before Christmas. We must procure an invitation!" Helen squared her shoulders like a general making preparations for battle. "We cannot afford to lose the fish on our lure."

"You make him sound like an imbecile," Claire narrowed her eyes.

"He is a man, my dear, and they are easily swayed to forgo their good sense by an artfully displayed cleavage."

Well, she supposed that was true enough.

"Why are you so opposed to a match between me and Lindsey?" Claire demanded. "What is that Elizabeth can provide that I cannot, save perhaps for an heir? The Marquess already has a son to take the title when the time comes, I cannot imagine that my age shall be too much of a hindrance."

"You cannot possibly expect me to answer that," Helen's eyes flared in surprise as her posture went stiff. "I am not your enemy, Claire, and have no wish to be unkind to you."

"I absolutely do. Let's have it."

"Claire," Helen gave her a pitying look, "you are my family, and I care for you, and I do not seek to injure you when I say this, but it is you who have asked for the truth. Your marriage.... has changed you in some very unfortunate ways. You are angry and bitter because of it, not irrationally so, but it is such an intrinsic part of your bearing that it eclipses all the good parts of you; your humor, your intelligence, the depth of your heart. A man who has lived most of his life in isolation shall not want a cold, unfeeling union. And the way you are now, Claire, that is all you have to offer. Set your cap for him, if you so wish, but who would willingly subject themselves to that when they could have someone that brightens their life instead? I do not want you to sabotage Elizabeth's chances because you're being.....well, you."

It should not have hurt, this answer that was entirely the truth, lack of tact aside. She knew that she was not like Elizabeth, sweet, inviting, and open, but to have Helen speak as if she was undesirable on such a fundamental level cut her in ways she had not imagined possible. It was not her fault, was it? The fact that she was jaded and cold? The fact that there was something inside her that had been ruined beyond repair? She hadn't asked to be married to someone who would never offer her even the smallest measure of affection. She hadn't asked to become....this! 

Was she not entitled to her anger? To her bitterness? After all the humiliation that she had suffered, the betrayals she had weathered, could she not be given just a little grace for the edges of her personality that had become jagged to protect her?

"I am doing this so that Elizabeth doesn't become me," she replied hollowly. "I do not understand why you are hell-bent on making her embark upon the same path that I did twenty years ago. You did not have the power to stop it then, though I know you tried. You have the power now, why do you refuse to use it?"

"Good heavens, Claire, is this Drury Lane? What are these dramatics? I fought for you all those years ago, albeit fruitlessly, because it was well known what manner man the late Baron was. There are no such rumors about his lordship. It is the height of unfairness to paint him with the same brush as Northhaven."

"He and Northhaven are of the same ilk. He took mistresses during his marriage. He divorced his wife when she returned his actions in kind. Do those appear to be the actions of a good man to you?!"

"He has kind eyes," Elizabeth's hushed voice cut across their argument as the two older women stilled in surprise. They had not noticed that she had entered the room.

"Kind eyes?" Claire scoffed and then immediately regretted the frost in her tone as she saw Elizabeth flush in embarrassment. "Lizzie."

"Yes," Elizabeth fisted her hands in her hem as she threw her shoulders back, an unmistakable glint of defiance in her eyes. "He has kind eyes. His demeanor is gentle. He speaks softly, and he has made no disparaging comments about anyone in all the time we have spent with him."

"All the time we have spent with him?" Claire repeated in disbelief. "Because a handful of hours are enough to render judgment?"

"They seemed to have been enough for you! And who has decided that you are to be judge, jury, and executioner? " Elizabeth had come nearly close to yelling, something that was entirely out of her character. Claire felt her frustration rising, coiling and twisting within her, loosening her control over her temper and her tongue. How was she the villain? All she wanted to do was keep her sister safe. Why didn't they see that? "All that man has done is talk about his travels and his son!"

"Because I have seen the world, Liz. I am more than a decade older than you. I have seen men," her lips curled into a derisive sneer. "And do not get me started on the scapegrace he calls his offspring. There is not one vice that man has not indulged in. It just goes to prove that he was not raised by a true gentleman, in a home with good values. And that is who you both think will make a suitable husband for Elizabeth?"

"You have seen one man! And he was terrible, Claire, and my heart breaks for you and everything you have lost at his hands. But you cannot paint all of them with the same brush. Yes, he is older than me. Several decades older. Yes, he was not faithful to his first wife, but since there are no reports of His Lordship ever behaving improperly! You will not admit that his similarities to your husband are fickle; his age does not make him this villain you seem to have decided he is. His past indiscretion does not mean that he will continue on the same path. If you find him distasteful, fine. You can leave. I am sure my maid can offer adequate chaperonage in your absence."

"I am not going to leave you alone with him!"

"Well, I do not want you here!"

"That is enough!" Heled clapped her hands loudly. "Ladies! Do not shout as if you are in the fish market. Enough of this bickering, I do not have the time to lecture you as if you still belong in the nursery! Now, I have to leave to meet my friends for tea. Claire, behave yourself, His Lordship will arrive shortly. Tell me now if you would rather not meet him and I shall stay behind."

"No," Claire sighed in defeat, seeing that there was no winning against her family. They were letting themselves be blinded by his money and his title, but she did not have to be a fool. She would make them see, she needed only bide her time. "I will chaperone her."

There was something wrong with The Shr- Lady Claire. She was subdued, sullen, sitting in one corner as her sister chatted with him, asking about his days in university and his travels. She was not glaring at him with her customary disapproval, she was not making thinly veiled comments about his fall from grace, hell she was hardly engaging with him at all. She was acting like a true chaperone, blending into the wall, barely participating in conversation; which would have been stellar if he was actually here to court the younger sister, but for his intentions her reticence was rather inconvenient. He had not even said that he would come to call upon the younger sister, instead had just accepted the invitation for tea, but the mother had made herself absent and Claire was silent, so that left him with little recourse but to make conversation with the younger sister. She was nice, lovely even but good God, she was far too young- even for his son, much more so himself. Unbidden, his gaze turned to The Shrew once more. Er, Lady Claire, that was. Her sullen gaze was trained on her empty cup, her shoulders stiff with tension. He asked her an inane question about the weather which she replied with a clipped, short answer and then went back to making her presence as unnoticeable as possible.

James, of course, noticed her anyway. She was regal in her stunning blue gown, which was a year or so out of fashion, but flattering regardless on her form. He could not help but appreciate the way her hips swished as she placed her empty tea cup on the trolley and walked back to her seat by the window. Ah, but the woman was attractive.

"Claire, will you please go fetch that book I wished to show His Lordship?" Elizabeth turned to her sister with a pleasantly bland expression. Lady Claire's brows twisted into a disapproving frown and Elizabeth's expression grew strained, an undercurrent of irritation running between them.

Ah, so a sisterly squabble had the frosty woman out of sorts.

"I cannot leave the two of you unchaperoned," Claire replied finally after holding her sister's gaze longer than necessary.

"Oh hush," Elizabeth replied breezily. "The maid is here and you can leave the door open. It'll hardly take a second."

"I don't think-"

"Please, Claire."

Claire stood up, her jaw so tight he may as well see the muscle tick along with her heartbeat, and walked out of the room on stiff legs. The second she was out of earshot, Elizabeth boldly left her position on the seat a proper distance from him and came to the one right next to him.

Oh no.

Perhaps he ought to have considered that his particular attention to the family may have been misconstrued as interest in the younger sister. And that a young, desperate woman may try to encourage his affections by making her interest clear.

"Miss Elizabeth-"

"Oh, hush," she shushed him, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You have nothing to fear from me, though I do apologize for the impropriety, but I have a very small window and I must capitalize on it."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Let me first start by saying that I know that you have not the slightest interest in me nor am I too taken with you, though rest assured I think you are very handsome in an older gentleman sort of way. I, personally, would not have minded being your Marchioness in the least. I rather like you, you seem the agreeable sort. And you would be generous with my pin money. But I get the sense that your interest lies elsewhere, am I right? I've seen your eyes stray to the seat next to the window several times over."

"She is lovely and astute," James observed with a smile, whispering back. God, the young miss had turned into a veritable chatterbox!

"My Lord, I care for my sister very much and want her to be happy. Her first husband.....he hurt her, and now she does not wish to expose herself to the mercy of another man ever again." At his shocked expression, she hastily added, "Oh no, not like that. But there are ways to hurt someone that go beyond the physical, are there not?"

"Indeed," James inclined his head in agreement.

"Do you intend to be an unfaithful husband?"

Humiliation and regret pierced his heart as James saw that the effects of his youthful idiocy rear their head in the present. Was this to be his lot then? Forever associated with the worst of his wrongdoings? Wrongdoings that he had spent three decades repenting?

"No. Never again," he replied tightly, a vice closing in around his heart.

"Excellent," she beamed at him. "Then I will help you."

"Help me?"

"Yes, I know you can tell already that you cannot take the direct route with Claire, or else you would have made it clear that you were calling upon her, instead of just joining us for a cup of tea."

"I imagine she would not be altogether too receptive to such a suit," James replied with a wistful smile. "She does not seem to like me all that much."

"Yes, Claire is a little difficult like that, we must thaw her without her knowing. It's like giving a child some vegetables; you have to hide them creatively enough to make them eat without protest."

"I somehow think your sister would find that comparison unflattering," he felt his mouth twitch in a grin. "In fact, I do not think I care for being compared to asparagus either."

"It's a good thing we won't tell her," the girl grinned at him impishly, further exacerbating her youth in his eyes, but then her expression turned solemn. "My Lord, you appear to me as a kind man. It is, in fact, why I wish to help you. Your manner and bearing speak maturity and grace.... that is why I hope that you will be patient with Claire. My sister is a brave and fiercely loyal. Once she loves someone, she would go to the ends of the earth for them. But her good qualities are hidden under a lot of hurt, so that is why I ask you, to please stay compassionate. More than anything else, Claire needs a little kindness. You will not regret giving her your time, I swear it."

James felt something in the vicinity of his heart go soft.

"I will tell you which events we plan on attending, and I shall convince my mother to get invitations for you as well. She is very keen on us making a match, so it should not be too difficult. Claire is protective so if you approach me, she will stay close by, and then you and I shall thaw her! I shall orchestrate opportunities to leave the two of you alone, and hopefully, the two of you can get to know each other. You'll see, once you start seeing the real Claire, that she is truly a gem."

"And just how will you manage that? Let me point out that I am still far from welcome in most places."

"Just watch me, my mother can be a right nuisance when she wants something- oh! I hear her coming back, just wait and see. I will send you word."

With impressive speed, Elizabeth shot back to her seat, smoothing out her skirts and pouring herself a fresh cup of tea. Claire returned, silently offering the book to Elizabeth who began telling him about the contents of the novel- a memoir by an archeologist who had taken part in many expeditions in Egypt.

"Claire!" Elizabeth turned to her sister with a wide smile. "His Lordship and I were talking and think of the coincidence! He enjoys the harp very much!" She rose to her feet, James rising as etiquette required. "You simply must play for our guest! Oh, did you know that Claire is absolutely divine with almost any instrument? Oh, but her skills with the harp are unmatched."

"I did not, but I would be honored if she would grace us with her talent," James tried to fight a smile at Elizabeth's almost transparent attempt to get him to stay just a bit longer.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly," Claire demurred stiffly, without any sincerity. She took a pointed look at the clock. "I am sure Lord Lindsey must be going soon, it's gotten quite late."

"Oh, pooh, Claire! It's been an hour at most. Do say you'll play something?"

"I....," she grappled for any excuse to remove him from their company, but ever the well-trained lady, in the end, she was defeated by etiquette. "Very well. Shall we go to the music room?"

"Oh, splendid!" Elizabeth took a comically enthusiastic turn, making sure her hand knocked over her cup, spilling her leftover tea onto her dress. "Oh dear!"

"Lizzie!" Claire gasped, rushing forward. "Oh, no. Was it hot?! Are you hurt?!"

"No, no! No need to cause such a fuss!" Elizabeth said, her pitch unnaturally high. She gave him a triumphant look over Claire's shoulder. Talented actress she was not, but James supposed her meager talents had been enough to convince her overprotective sister. "Why don't the two of you head to the music room and get started while I nip to my chambers and dress quickly? Please, Claire, I've half talked Lord Lindsey's ear off about how good you are, you couldn't stand to disappoint him now, could you?"

Something told James that she would absolutely love to disappoint him, but he was not interested in giving her any quarter.

"Please, Lady Claire," James gave her his best innocent look. "I am so looking forward to hearing you play."

Her shoulders slumping in defeat, she nodded. "Follow me."

She led him silently to the music room, taking her seat before the beautiful instrument and making sure to leave the door ajar. She closed her eyes, inhaled, setting her hands to the strings, and began to pluck them with beautiful, graceful movements. Vaguely, he registered the opening strings of Für Elise, but the rest of his attention was riveted on the woman he had become rather entranced with. He watched the ice queen transform right before his eyes as she lost herself to the music, her entire body relaxed, swaying with the music, each note ringing with passion that belied her frosty exterior. She had gone from simply beautiful to breathtaking.

"You truly are divine," James said through a strangely thick throat, his gaze intense enough that she blushed under the weight of it. She held his gaze as her fingers stilled over the instrument, holding his gaze as the second trickled by, both held in thrall by the palpable something between them; attraction, potential, whatever one wished to call it, but it was there, growing louder with every quickening beat of James' heart. "Your playing, I mean. I remember when my son used to have a music teacher because he fancied himself a pianist. The clanging of the keys made me dizzy on more than one occasion."

Great. He was blabbering.

She smiled at him, a soft, tender expression that made James promptly lose his breath. Though it made the lines on her forehead and around her mouth more prominent, she looked more radiant than ever. The ice queen may as well have been Flora- the Roman goddess of flowers and spring, with a smile that breathtaking.

"I used to play often during my marriage, whenever I felt alone," she dropped her gaze into her lap as if she was embarrassed. "I got a lot of practice, as you can see. I wish.....I would have been glad for some noisy clanging, so long as it meant that....."

She trailed off, but James heard the unspoken words anyway.

If it meant that I had a family of my own.

"Your husband was a fool."

James cringed as the words cracked across the music room with the sharpness of a whip. So much for subtlety and thawing her slowly. Her eyes snapped to his, a storm of emotion raging behind them that James had trouble identifying the individual ones. Sorrow, anger, regret, hatred all mingled and mixed in her light brown irises and before James knew it he had stepped right next to her, offering her a hand. She placed her hand in his, a small tremble in her limbs. She did not step away from him once she had risen to her full out, her gaze dropping to his mouth. Electricity pulsed and crackled between them as she swayed just a bit closer, her hand brushing his shoulder, her cheeks rosy.

But then The Ice Queen returned, her vulnerability replaced with determination. She held herself stiffer, as if she were about to do something unpleasant and then she pitched forward toward his mouth. The magic of the moment shattered as he turned his mouth away so that her lips collided with his cheek instead. He pushed her away roughly, feeling frustrated and disgusted in equal measure.

"My Lord, I-"

"Do not," he snapped as her face went pale. "I know what you are about, Lady Claire, so do not make any excuses. Let me tell you now that I have no intention of finding myself in a cold, affectionless marriage. Your attempt at seduction was clumsy, unfeeling, ingenuine, and entirely unwelcomed."

She stood up straighter, her eyes blazing with unrepentant pride.

By God, the woman was not even embarrassed by her behavior!

"I will not let you have her," she somehow managed to look down her nose at him, all contemptuous and haughty and it ignited the devil in him. He stepped close to her again, watching her face flush once more, her breaths leaving her mouth in rapid puffs. He grasped both of her arms tugging her so her breasts collided with his chest and leaned in close, his lips right above hers.

"Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do or who I can and cannot have." His mouth ghosted over hers as she let out a barely discernable whimper. "And next time you attempt to kiss me, Claire, make sure you mean it. I will not accept anything less from you."

With that, he spun on his heel and left her gaping after him.