She shook her head, still not comprehending. “You should be furious with me. I launched you from one horrible situation into another.”
Again a laugh escaped him. This time, however, there was little mirth in it. “What did you do but attempt to help me when I was floundering? It was a selfless thing you did, putting your reputation on the line to help me.”
As she grappled with his far-too-generous view of the situation, he blew out a breath and released her hand, rising to his feet. “What I cannot figure, though,” he mumbled as he paced the perimeter of the room, “is how I shall get you out of it.”
Clara watched his agitated steps with a self-punishing kind of fascination. “Your mother didn’t seem pleased by the idea of us marrying. If we keep quiet, perhaps our false engagement will just disappear,” she said with more optimism than she felt. “You can continue on with your life and I can retire back to Synne. No one need be the wiser.”
He halted mid-step, looking at her. And she nearly stopped breathing at the intensity in his eyes. “As if I would leave you to that,” he said quietly. He made his way back to the settee and sat beside her once more. “My mother won’t forget her plans being thwarted so completely. Once she finds out it was a ruse, your reputation will be in tatters. Truthfully, I doubt she would stop until your entire family is ruined.”
Clara felt the blood leave her face as a ringing started up in her ears. She had never been particularly frightened of ruination for herself. But Phoebe…All of Clara’s actions of the past fifteen years had been to ensure her sister would be protected from heartache. The very thought that it might all be destroyed in a moment’s unthinking response made Clara physically ill.
Quincy must have noticed her reaction, for he was soon preparing a cup of tea from the untouched tray and pressing it into her hands.
“I’m not so Americanized that I don’t acknowledge the good a cup of bracing tea can do. Drink,” he demanded, gently pushing the fine bone china to her mouth.
She drank mechanically, letting the warmth seep into her. In the back of her mind she recognized the taste of milk, just as she preferred it. He had noticed how she prepared her tea?
The feel of moisture in her eyes snapped her back to her senses. She prided herself on her tightly leashed emotions, but she was dangerously close to letting them overwhelm her.
Now is not the time to lose control, she told herself firmly. She downed the rest of the beverage, feeling the burn of it sink into her chest before putting the cup aside with a determined clink.
A small smile lifted his lips. “Better?”
A warmth that had nothing to do with the tea and everything to do with that devastating smile spread through her. Ignoring it as best she could, she nodded. “Quite. Now let us put our heads together and figure a way out of this mess.”
***
An hour later and they were no closer to a solution.
Clara picked at the crumbled biscuit on her plate. She and Quincy had decimated every bit of food and drink on the tea tray as they pored over option after option to end their accidental engagement. Yet they seemed even more mired in their dilemma than ever.
“If only Phoebe were not marrying the son of such a harridan,” she repeated for what felt the hundredth time. “Any hint of scandal and Lady Crabtree will force Oswin to separate from Phoebe. I have never known a woman to place such importance on status.”
“And you would not think twice about inviting a scandal on yourself if Phoebe’s future happiness was not at stake?”
His words were faintly teasing, but Clara couldn’t bring herself to smile. She placed her plate down on the low table with more force than necessary.
“There must be something we’re missing,” she said.
“There’s nothing. We’ve covered every possibility, from every angle. If we tell my mother immediately that we’re not engaged, she will be furious and ruin you, and by extension your sister and her chances with her fiancé. If we pretend the entire thing never occurred, my mother will eventually find out and ruin you. In every scenario, she will wreak vengeance on you. And I refuse to let that happen.”
It was not the first time Quincy had stated such a thing. And it never failed to warm her from the inside out.
Even as she struggled to dampen her reaction to his fierce protectiveness of her, he stilled, his gaze suddenly razor-sharp as he looked at her with renewed interest. “We’ve thought of every scenario possible to extricate ourselves from this. Except one.”
His visible excitement sizzled in the air, awakening something deep in her. She had thought herself too frustrated and tired to respond to anything, but she’d been wrong. Nerves strumming, she straightened. “What is it?”
He grinned. “We remain engaged.”
Hurt crashed through her, that he might think this a joke, that he might laugh at her. Standing, she turned to leave. “If you aren’t going to be serious, we have nothing more to say.”
He caught at her hand. “I am serious. Don’t you see? It’s perfect.”
She gave him a dubious look.
His grin widened as he tugged at her. With reluctance she allowed him to pull her back down to the settee.
“We both have certain problems to deal with. I have a horrid mother who would see me married off to a stranger, and who will no doubt stop at nothing to see it happen. You have Lady Tesh, who has made no secret that she will see you wed come hell or high water.”