"Come say hello to our guests," Nucky instructed when Clara came out of her hallway. Dressed in a pale pink silk dress covered in white beaded embroidery, with white crocheted gloves, her best string of pearls, a white picture hat, stockings, and shoes, she looked pristine. She finally looked like his daughter, for the first time in a long time, he thought.

Getting her out of Atlantic City and away with her boarding school friends-her society friends-for Dorothy Grenville's wedding was obviously the correct course of action, he reflected. He hoped she would tell him later that she met a young man during her three weeks in Newport. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright, so he had hope. It was past time for Clara to marry and leave behind her childish dependence on James. He wanted her settled, and with everything going on he'd be happier if she settled down away from the Boardwalk.

"Ah, Attorney General Henry Daugherty. We met in Chicago," Clara said.

Nucky watched her charm Daugherty and Jess Smith. It appeared effortless. Good, he thought, it was past time she started behaving like herself again.

"Are we honoring any of your friends today, Miss Thompson?" Daugherty asked in the car as they drove to the Memorial.

"A boy I went to school with was killed at Argonne," Clara said simply.

"Well, we certainly appreciate the sacrifices all those fine young men made."

Clara nodded, and Nucky noticed her face clouded over. "Two of my closest friends were injured-seriously injured-during the war. Neither would have survived without modern field medicine, but..."

It took all of Nucky's self-control not to roll his eyes. Jesus Christ, was she incapable of letting James go for one second? "Harry, let me tell you about the golf course we're going to be playing today," Nucky cut in.

Owen pulled up to the Memorial, but Nucky grabbed Clara's wrist before she could exit the car. "At your age, do I really have to remind you how to speak to our guests?" he hissed at her from between gritted teeth when the other two men got out. "No one wants to hear about injured soldiers."

Clara's eyes flashed. "My apologies, I don't know what I was thinking, speaking about veterans on Memorial Day."

When the hell had she become so endlessly infuriating, he wondered. "Who is the other soldier that was injured?"

"Richard."

"Do I know him?" Nucky asked, wondering if somehow Clara had attracted some broken former Army officer at the wedding. At this point, a damaged society boy was fine, he thought. Anything to get her away from James.

"Harrow?" Clara responded in a tone of voice that made it clear she couldn't believe he needed to ask, what other Richard could she possibly be speaking about.

Nucky fought to control his temper. James was ridiculous enough. He'd been fine for a childhood friend, and if James had finished Princeton, met Clara's Bryn Mawr classmates, and they had both gone on to marry well he would have been happy for their friendship to continue. Hell, he wasn't even opposed to the Commodore's idea of marrying them off to each other if James had stuck to Nucky's plan for him. But now James was his enemy, and it was James's damn fault he was spending Memorial Day with Harry fucking Daughtery. But insisting Richard Harrow was her friend, oh no, that wasn't enough for Clara, insisting he was one of her closest friends when the freakshow sided with James?

She had gone too far. It was time to bring Clara back under control.

"Have you taken complete leave of your senses? He was your bodyguard, back when he worked for me. You wanted to be friendly to some maimed remnant of a man, fine. But he works for my enemy, Clara, and you best remember whose daughter you are. This is not a story with a happy ending for the vanquished."

Clara refused to break eye contact with her father, but inside she was cringing. She had never, in her life, seen her father as furious as he was at this moment. However, as her heart banged in her chest and her breath caught she realized she was equally furious. He was their father, Jimmy's as much as hers, really, and he had done nothing to help Jimmy when he found out about Gillian. And not once, not once, had she heard Nucky take responsibility for Gillian, which was an act so incredibly awful she couldn't even let herself think about it. Clara felt her own reserve crack under the force of her fury. "Oh, this war, that started because you refused to take responsibility for whoring out a little girl..."

Nucky leaned forward. His eyes were even larger in his face than usual, and he was breathing heavily. Her father had never so much had spanked her. He had raged, he had screamed, he once locked her in her room for two weeks (only allowing Eddie to unlock the door to bring her trays), he regularly went long periods without speaking to her when she displeased him, but he had never once hit her. At that moment, as she leaned back against the car upholstery and felt the poreless leather against her arms, she honestly thought he was going to strike her. Her own temper flared, and she refused to back down.

He opened the door and got out, taking large gulps of air in an attempt to calm himself. Owen Sleater was looking at him with concern. "Go check the stage," he snapped at Sleater. If Clara was foolish enough to consider Harrow one of her closest friends, God only knew what trouble she could get into with Sleater, for all of her air of injured innocence when he spoke to her about it at Margaret's a couple of months ago. He'd warn Sleater to stay the hell away from her. He'd be damned if the daughter he spent so much money raising ended up dallying with an Irish Revolutionary, or, God forbid, married to someone so completely undesirable.

Clara sat in the Rolls-Royce for a few moments so she could calm down enough to join the crowd. Her hands were shaking, still, as her mind raced. She hadn't wanted her father to go to prison when the Commodore's plan began to unfold. She'd worried from the beginning about the impact the Rothsteins and Capones of the world were going to have on this stupid feud, but sitting in the Rolls she realized she had badly underestimated her father. For the first time, she was scared about what would happen if Jimmy lost. Her father, she now saw, would be merciless in punishing Jimmy's treason, and she feared she'd just accidentally drawn a target on Richard's back.

When she exited the car she took big gulps of the salty air in an attempt to calm down and still her racing heart. She looked through the crowd, searching for a glimpse of a familiar tall, slim figure in a newsboy cap. Her fingers smoothed her skirt repeatedly, taking momentary comfort in tracing the raised beadwork. Richard had worried her badly before she left, so much so she almost canceled her trip. That kiss. He never kissed her like that with the mask on. Her knees had almost buckled, and the way he looked at her when he pulled away, like he was memorizing her face, troubled her. Then he promised he'd see her here, and Richard kept his promises, so she told herself it was just that he was going to miss her.

After all, she'd missed him. It was odd to go so long without seeing him or talking to him. There were nights as she watched her friends happy with their husbands and partners where her longing for him was almost unbearable. She knew when she saw him she'll want to throw herself in his arms, but even just brushing her fingers against his sounded amazing.

She pushed away the thought that she'd taken extra time to get ready this morning because she'd put in her dutch cap, in the hopes they'd have the whole day together. After all, Mrs.Siddons left for Maine on Friday, so Richard's cottage was no longer off-limits.

"Hey, Dollface. You all right?"Eli asked. He'd seen his brother leave the Rolls-Royce looking like he was about to commit murder, and then Clara exit the car a few minutes later looking shaken.

"Just had a lovely conversation with Father."

Eli didn't miss that his niece's eyes never stopped moving through the crowd. "I haven't seen Harrow," he said, not bothering to hide his amusement. "He looked even more like a kicked puppy than he usually does while you were gone, though."

He's quiet for a moment. "Your father isn't going to take the news of you and Harrow well."

Clara turned to her uncle, and he was taken back by the fear in her eyes. "No, I worry what he'll try and do to Richard when he finds out. It's why I've tried to keep it a secret."

"Well, I'm worried about you, Dollface. If you need to, you can always come to my house and stay with us."

Nucky was talking to the Yacht Club set (those fucking traitors) when he saw Clara talking with Eli. Suddenly she leaned over and kissed her uncle on the cheek. Fury raged within him again. Was she trying to infuriate him?

He kept an eye on the little traitoress as she moved around the crowd, making small talk with people, and finally joining up with, of course, the fucking Darmodys. James's little boy climbed on her like she was a familiar playmate.

"Do you know where Richard is?" Clara asked Jimmy as they walked toward their seats. "He promised to be here today."

"For fucks sake, Clara, maybe he just didn't feel like coming."

Clara felt her carefully maintained reserve crack further.

"Jesus, Jimmy, forgive me for thinking that, since in theory, you are friends with both of us you might give a care. I won't make that mistake again. As far as I know, you've sent him somewhere and lost track of what's happening," she snapped back with venom in her voice.

Jimmy rolled his eyes, but internally he pushed down his own worry.

Angela enjoyed the beautiful day and the chance to be with Jimmy without any threat that Gillian was going to waltz in. She was equally happy to see Clara, who was in full princess regalia. However, she picked up on the tension between Jimmy and Clara. Tension, she was sure, no one would ever explain to her. She didn't miss Nucky's glares over at them; unlike the day he cut her dead on the Boardwalk his fury seemed to be directed equally at Jimmy and Clara. Clara kept turning around.

"I know, I thought Richard would be here as well," Angela whispered.

"I'm that obvious, aren't I? I haven't seen him in three weeks, I've missed him madly, and he worried me terribly the night before I left. He's been okay, though?"

Angela didn't answer immediately, which made the hairs on the back of Clara's neck rise.

"I know he missed you," Angela said, not wanting to tell Clara she had also worried over Richard the last week. The day in the sunroom when he had been playing with Tommy and then he was just so clearly gone had been scary. It had taken Jimmy several attempts to get him back.

Clara forced her attention up to the stage when her father began to speak. To everyone else, he looked like Nucky Thompson, genial County Treasurer. She could see beneath, though, and he was still furious, even as he extolled the virtues of Atlantic City. The way he pronounced the Commodore "this city's doting father" sent chills down her spine. Something's coming, something's coming her nerves whispered to her as she fought the desire to start twisting her hair.

"...on a young man who can speak more directly to the ideals of sacrifice, service, and loyalty more than I ever could."

She caught Jimmy's eye around Angela. Angela thought this was an honor; she and Jimmy recognized it for it truly was. A gauntlet. Clara caught that Jimmy's limp was worse than usual; damn it, she thought, he's nervous. She kept forgetting to breathe as he took the podium.

Do well, she prayed. Show him you can do this, she thought.

He started to falter and she wrinkled her skirt in her hands. Then he found his voice, and Clara pushed down her smile. Her father's face noticeably-to her at least-fell.

Matchpoint Jimmy, Clara thought with venom.

Clara stayed back so Angela and Tommy could kiss Jimmy in congratulations.

"Please know I've never been prouder of you, and that includes the time you convinced the seventh grade that Father O'Connor was having a secret affair with Sister Mary Agnes," Clara told him with a smile when Angela and Tommy wandered away. "I still think you are an idiot, but Father needs to know he's not the only person who can play the game."

"Thanks, and thanks," Jimmy said drily. "And look, I'm sure Richard just didn't want to deal with all this. I know he missed you, I'm sure he'll find you later."

Clara nodded, but she wasn't reassured. It made her feel like a child, but he had promised. Something must have happened for him to break that promise.

"Look, Nucky is enjoying the day with the new us," Jimmy motioned with his jaw, and she saw Margaret and the children had arrived at some point and were standing with her father. He was playing the doting father to the hilt.

"Poor little things," Clara said with feeling, "it's all ice cream and ponies when you are small and malleable, but when you grow up..."

"Forced marriages and feuds?" Jimmy said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Clara nodded. "Something like that, for sure."