Page 67 of How the Duke Saved Christmas

Her shoulders deflated. “That’s all it can ever be,” she whispered, but the softness of her words couldn’t hide her grief. “I know what you’ve done for me these past few days, how you’ve pushed me to realize my own capabilities again, and I appreciate all that—I truly do. I know now that I cannot remained locked up inside my room simply because people might stare, and I’m no longer willing to pass over my own happiness. I want back as much of my old life as I can. I cannot thank you enough for that.”

His chest swelled with pride and happiness for her, and it took all his restraint not to jump to his feet and cheer.

“But whatever dreams you have of me being the Duchess of Wakefield can only be just that—dreams. You need a wife who can be a true partner to you, in every way.” She shook her head and murmured sadly, “A duchess who can at least step out of the sleigh and walk at your side to the tenants’ doors.”

His heart twisted. “Clara—”

“Please stop, Michael.” She signaled for Thomas to take her upstairs. “You have to let me go.”

“The hell I will,” he half growled beneath his breath.

“Then we’re even,” she whispered, barely more than a breath, before the footman came close enough to hear. “Because I’m already in hell.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Clara sat on the wooden bench beside the frozen pond and watched the children as they circled its surface on their skates. She pulled the fur throw closer around herself against the cold.

“Stay away from the middle,” she called out the reminder again. “The ice isn’t as thick there.”

The children nodded absently at the warning but thankfully turned closer to the edge where snow had been piled from the barn brooms they’d used to clear the ice when they’d first arrived. They’d even managed to make that chore fun, despite the required bickering and teasing that entered into everything they did together—with Margaret giving orders to the boys who swept the ice and Susannah building a castle in the snow for her doll. Then they’d plopped down on the bench next to Clara, laced on their skates, and took off across the ice.

Not without incident, though. Poor Aaron! He couldn’t seem to make his feet stay beneath him and suffered several hard falls, but to his credit, he never cried. Instead, he simply scrambled back onto his skates and charged on in pursuit of Benjamin, who was a natural-born skater.

Margaret gracefully turned wide circles across the ice and ignored the others, lost in her own thoughts.

Little Susannah did her best with short, choppy strides until she gained more confidence and began to speed around the pond. But she also skated too close to the center for Clara’s comfort, where the ice was thinner but the layer of unswept snow there supported her wobbly skates and made for easier gliding for a beginning skater like her.

“Come back to the edge, Susannah,” Clara called out.

The little girl waved and moved closer as instructed, but just as ungainly and gracelessly as before.

Clara stifled a laugh behind her fur-trimmed glove.

Margaret coasted to the edge of the pond, then walked carefully to the bench and sat beside Clara. “That was so much fun!”

“You’re very graceful when you skate.”

Pride at that compliment glowed on her face. “I think it must be like waltzing, to glide across the ice the way that dancers glide across the ballroom floor. Is it?”

“It’s similar, I suppose, but with far less turns than a waltz.”

“I can’t wait until I can waltz.” She let out a dreamy sigh. “Mama said I could start taking dance lessons next spring, that I’d be old enough then to learn. Oh, it must be wonderful to waltz!”

A pang of loss tightened Clara’s chest, yet she agreed quietly, “Yes, it is.”

“Oh!” Apologetic embarrassment colored her face bright red. “I completely forgot about your leg.”

“It’s all right.” Clara smiled faintly with only a touch of sadness. “I forget about it, too, sometimes.”

Apparently, they’d all forgotten about it this afternoon. After visiting their ponies in the stables, the children proposed that they spend the rest of the afternoon skating on the pond while Michael paid visits to the tenants. They’d invited Clara to come along, forgetting she couldn’t skate. Their slip hadn’t upset her, though, because it meant they saw her now as simply another person who could enjoy all the same activities they did.

Truly, not skating hadn’t mattered much to Clara this afternoon as she’d never skated before the accident. She would have been watching from the bench regardless, and many times during the outing, she’d forgotten herself the real reason why she sat there, watching the children instead of joining them.

The outing gave her hope, in fact. If the children could forget about her leg, then perhaps her old friends and acquaintances in London might be able to do the same.

“Do you miss dancing?” Margaret asked softly.

“A great deal.” Wrapping the fur throw more closely around herself, she kept her eyes focused on the other three children as they darted across the ice so that Margaret wouldn’t see any traces of sadness in her eyes. “So you must dance in my place and promise me that when you debut you will seize every opportunity you can to dance, and not just with the most eligible men either. Everyone deserves the chance to dance, including the men who are shy or not considered good catches or dancers. Make certain those men have the chance to dance with you, too.”