Clara had finished her new book and the fair draft was already on its way to her publisher, who'd kept her identity a secret because he'd thought she was extremely talented.

But she didn't feel the same anticipation and excitement that she'd felt during her other books.

It didn't take a genius to guess why. She was falling for her husband, hard and fast.

The same husband who'd explicitly told her that he didn't believe in 'that sort of thing.'

Who would've thought that falling in love with one's own husband could be an inconvenience?

What was she to do?

Loving him when all he felt for her was luke warm desire was just unacceptable.

It certainly wouldn't help her salvage her pride. Or whatever was left of it after she'd married him for reasons that had nothing to do with love.

But how could she not love him?

After seeing how noble he was, after seeing the way he treated her with utmost respect, the way he was with Isabelle...

He loved Isabelle, didn't he? Then why couldn't he come to love her?

She was in her study, the Duke had gifted it to her so she could write in peace. Another reason as to why she couldn't resist falling for him.

"Clawa, where are you?!" Isabelle hollered from the hallway.

She sighed. So much for peace, she thought with a smile.

"What is it, princess?" She asked as Isabelle walked in with all the grace of a duck.

"Wait, where are your spectacles?"

"I can't find 'em," she whined.

"Where's Lana?"

Lana was Isabelle's governess.

"I dunno."

Clara sighed again. Being a parent was quite tiring.

But she loved Isabelle with all her heart. And she couldn't start her day without looking at her sweet face.

She took her hand and was on her way to the nursery to look for Isabelle's spectacles.

Just then, she saw Thomas and intercepted him.

"Where's Martha, Thomas? I haven't seen her today. We need to discuss the menu for tonight's supper."

"She hasn't come in today, my lady. Her husband had taken ill yesterday and she had to stay back to take care of him."

"Oh, I hope it's nothing serious."

Thomas just tilted his head.

Sometimes she felt like strangling the man.

"Alright. I need you to prepare a basket of fresh fruits, bread and a pot of raspberry jam."

"Right away, my lady."

Clara and Isabelle took off to visit Martha and her family who lived just by the estate.

Their cottage was cozy and neatly kept. She also had a nice kitchen garden and grew all the essentials there.

Martha was extremely pleased with the gesture and assured Clara that her husband was fine and that it was just a minor case of the flu.

"The Duke himself visited yesterday to check on my husband," she was saying.

Clara was seated on a comfortable settee and was taking some tea, chatting with Martha while Isabelle was playing outside with her grandchildren.

She learnt from Martha that the Duke had sponsored her son's education and had sent him to London to pursue law.

How could she not love him?

"How long have you been working here?"

"I first came ta work 'ere as a scullery maid, I was jus' a young gal. The Duke was jus' a child," she smiled, the creases by her eyes deepening.

"So how was he as a child?"

Martha hesitated.

"It's alright, you can tell me. I'm his wife."

"Um..I guess so. He was but a lad of five or somethin'. Are you 'ware of his mother's story?"

Clara nodded. Not speaking lest she interrupt Martha's flow.

"Yes, well.. that woman was a trollop, she had scores of lovers. And she didna' bother hiding it from the world."

"But she was also a beautiful woman, ya know the type. She made the ol' Duke fall madly in love with her. The poor man couldn't take it, seeing his wife behaving like a strumpet. Poor child suffered 'cause

of 'em. His mother didna' feel any affection towards him. He had only his pa, but he'd turned to spirits too. The child was all alone, most of the time he'd hide in the kitchens to avoid the drama. That's how I became close to him."

"There was this one time, during his drunken spell, the Duke dragged his wife's lover outta her bed and the vile woman followed them out with jus' a bed sheet around herself."

Clara gasped.

Martha continued, she was staring into space, as if reliving that day,"that was when the boy left home. He was but eight years old. The duchess was too occupied with her lovers ta care and the Duke was too lost in his drunken stupor ta notice."

"Where did he run off to? And how did you find him?"

"Thomas and I organised a search party, wasn't very difficult. All the servants felt sorry for him and were worried. We learnt that he was in the neighbouring estate, the seat of the Earl of Ferrers. He was a kind man, he knew of the duke and duchess and refused to send the child back to that 'hellhole', said he and his wife would raise him till the boy was ready to leave. That's where he found Lord Crane, their bond was instant. I'd often visit the boy to see how he was faring."

"And then?"

"The rest is history, the duchess died in the bed of her lover and the Duke was too weak, he shot himself."

Now that, Clara had heard of.

She soon took her leave with Isabelle, with a heavy heart.

Once they were back, Clara went back to her study. But she couldn't concentrate. All she could see in her mind's eye was a little boy with black hair and grey eyes, desperately longing for his parents' attention....leaving home, running away all alone.

She learnt from Thomas that her husband was in his room, he'd come for some rest.

Would he mind if she went there? Would it be a hassle to him?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

She went into her room and knocked on their connecting door, she heard rushed foot steps until he opened it forcefully.

He was staring at her face with an odd intensity, her mouth went dry.

Huh. So he didn't mind, after all.

Leo couldn't believe it. Clara had finally come to him.

Ah, finally.

"There's something I need to talk to you about."

She was here to talk?

He cleared his throat.

"Do come in."

She was looking at his room as though she wanted to memorise every single detail. He didn't have much, but a portrait of Crane and him seemed to have caught her attention.

"Is that Lord Crane?"

"Yes," he said, unable to dodge the wave of sadness that hit him.

"He looks very handsome here," she smiled.

He liked how she spoke in the present tense, as though Crane was still with them. As though he was still a part of their lives. And he was.

"It's a good thing he isn't here or he would've tried stealing you from under my nose," he smiled, unbeknownst to himself.

"You're just saying that," she giggled.

"Oh no, he was quite a charmer."

"But he loved his wife very much, no?"

"He did." Leo could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

He tried hiding his face from her, but in vain.

She pulled on his arm and made him sit on his bed and sat across him.

"I want to know more about Lord Crane."

"Alright," he sighed, eager to get this over with. "I met him when I was eight, I had gone to live there under some circumstances, I don't really remember."

She nodded, but in her eyes he saw that she already knew it, that was impossible. Nobody from the ton was aware of that, Crane's father had made sure that the news didn't get out.

He continued though, "we became fast friends, we attended Eton together..in our sixteenth summer when we were here, we sneaked out or rather Crane made me sneak out to attend a rather boring country fair. He wanted to find girls, he'd said."

At her smile, he went on,"we didn't really see any girls except the one, Annie. She was a year or so younger to us and was a complete hoyden."

"That night, Crane told me that he was in love with Annie. I didn't believe him, of course. Falling in love in just under a day was unheard of."

"But it seemed like he was very serious because the next day, he dragged me along and searched the entire country side for Annie. We then found out from a couple of boys that she was the local physician's daughter."

"I think I know where this is going," Clara smiled mischievously.

He laughed too.

He felt light, he was glad he was sharing this with Clara.