“There you are, Mrs. Blackstone,” Reggie exclaimed. “Clara has been wondering where you’d gotten to.”
Mrs. Blackstone crossed her arms beneath her ample breasts. “I’ve been looking for my daughter-in-law for the past hour.”
“Well, then,” Reggie added smoothly. “Now we have all found each other. Shall we take tea on the terrace?”
Mrs. Blackstone gave a little huff and stepped out into the sunshine.
He rolled his eyes at her indignation and led Clara to a deep cushioned chair. Reggie hovered until she was settled comfortably and made small talk until Mrs. Blackstone cleared her throat importantly.
“I have good news, Clara. My husband’s father has summoned us to live at his estate in Whitstable.”
Reggie’s heart stopped and he turned to see Clara’s reaction.
She clutched her hands together over her unborn child. “That is quite unexpected, mother Blackstone.”
Mrs. Blackstone huffed. “Not entirely unexpected. That child you carry could be his heir, if you’ve sense enough to deliver a healthy boy.”
Reggie clenched his teeth at yet another cold-hearted reference to Clara’s child. Boy or girl, he would love the babe as his own if given the chance. And with this new invitation that would take them away from him, Reggie would have to alter his plans and timetable considerably to make his wish a reality.
Clara swallowed. “I’ll do my best.”
A tea tray was set before them and Reggie indicated for Clara to pour.
He turned to Mrs. Blackstone. “That was kind of your father-in-law to invite Clara to visit, but she’s welcome here for as long as she likes.”
Mrs. Blackstone’s lip curled. “My grandchild should be raised among family. I’ll not have speculation surrounding his parentage under question. The gossip is bad enough already.”
Reggie ground his teeth. Foolish, blind, old woman. It was not Clara who started the talk in the first place. It was Mrs. Blackstone’s own inconstant son.
“Tea, Reggie?”
He glanced sideways and saw the plea in Clara’s eyes. She wished him to let the discussion pass and he couldn’t blame her. A day filled with such promising pleasure should not be spoiled by pointless squabble. He took the cup, murmured his thanks and drank.
Clara hastily poured a cup for her mother-in-law, but when it came time to pour hers, the pot shook in her hands. Hot tea splashed across the table.
“Good grief, Clara, clumsy girl. I’ll never understand what my son saw in you.”
A bright flush crept over Clara’s skin as Reggie pulled her hands away from the mess. He signaled for a footman to replace the setting.
Clara squeezed his hand. “I did not injure myself,” she whispered.
Regardless of the impropriety, he kept hold of her hand beneath the table. When the footman disappeared, Reggie turned to Mrs. Blackstone. “I imagine he saw exactly what I see. An elegant, intelligent woman who has a grace about her you don’t often find in women these days. And a vast capacity to love. I don’t believe she has a mean bone in her body. Clara should, by rights, be as furious with your son as I am with my late wife.”
Mrs. Blackstone’s mouth fell open inelegantly. She snapped it closed. “How dare you speak ill of my son to me. How dare you speak ill of him before my unborn grandchild.” Her face mottled as she stared him down.
Unimpressed by the
display, Reggie did nothing.
Mrs. Blackstone stood suddenly and clicked her fingers at Clara.
Although Clara had previously defended her husband’s memory, Reggie was relieved when she did not immediately agree with her mother-in-law.
Her gaze rose, a defiant light in her eyes. “Yes, mother Blackstone?”
“I wish a word with you in private. Immediately.”
Clara’s grip tightened on his. “I’ve no wish to be rude to Reggie. He’s barely drunk any of his tea.”