He trailed off, and Clairemont blinked. "What are you asking of me?"
"The girl, Celia, she is just returning to Society after a broken engagement. Oh, the scandal was minor at best, but she is not in a perfect position. If a duke were to pay attention to her, I don't think her brother-in-law would be unhappy about such a match. Especially since he already feels he knows the Duke of Clairemont, at least on some level."
"Are you saying I should pursue an interest in Celia Fitzgilbert?" Clairemont asked blankly, his traitorous mind taking him back to the moment when he'd held her hand in his, looked into her face. He'd wanted very much to draw her into his arms, to kiss more than her gloved hand.
It had been a shocking desire, and one he had used all his strength and training to bury.
"Did you flirt with her on the terrace?" Stalwood asked benignly.
Clairemont froze. His mentor knew him well. He knew Clairemont was no monk. He liked his pleasure as well as the next man, as long as it didn't interfere in his work.
"I suppose I did," he admitted. "Before I knew who she was."
"I'm not saying you should get engaged to the girl," Stalwood said with a shrug.
"I would hope not," Clairemont said, and a great shudder worked through him at the thought of even a pretended engagement or marriage. That was not in his future. Better for everyone.
"But what harm could come in showing her a little extra attention?" Stalwood pressed. "In the interest of getting closer to Danford and in the interest of fitting into Society a bit more smoothly?"
Clairemont considered it. Talking to Celia had been very easy, comfortable even, unlike every other tedious conversation he'd been forced to have earlier in the evening.
"You can do this can't you?" Stalwood asked. "You have no gentlemanly objections?"
Clairemont straightened and met the earl's gaze evenly. "I am no gentleman," he said, hardening himself to any objections he might, indeed, have on his own behalf or on Celia's. This was for king and country. "I know my duty."
"Good," Stalwood said with a slight smile. "Then we should return to the ballroom."
His mentor led the way from the parlor and Clairemont followed, trying to tamp down all his reasons not to do exactly as Stalwood said. Trying not to relive every moment on the terrace with Celia Fitzgilbert. She was a means to an end now. He could not make her any more than that.
"What is wrong?"
Celia flinched as she slid up next to her sister. Damn Rosalinde for knowing her so well. She forced a smile. "Wrong? Nothing at all. I just needed a bit of air," she lied.
Rosalinde sent Gray a look and then examined Celia more closely. "You look upset, Celia. Are you certain nothing is wrong? We saw the Duke of Clairemont go out onto the terrace after you did."
Celia felt the blood drain from her face. "You did?"
Rosalinde nodded. "Perhaps I should have followed. He wasn't untoward with you, was he?"
Celia's lips pinched as she recalled her few moments with the duke on the terrace. Untoward? Not exactly. Perhaps a bit flirtatious, at least until he realized who she was.
"No, he was … fine. We-we talked, actually," she said, again casting a glance at Gray. Although they were finding a better relationship now, it still felt odd to talk about something so personal in front of him.
As if he sensed her discomfort, he turned away slightly, to give Rosalinde and her at least the illusion of a moment of privacy.
"You talked," Rosalinde repeated softly. "And it didn't go well?"
Celia shrugged. "At first it was fine. He was charming and I was … I suppose I tried to be charming-"
"You are always charming, go on," Rosalinde encouraged.
"And then I mentioned you and Gray, and he realized who I was. His demeanor changed and he gave me what amounted to a very gentle set down and walked away." Celia cleared her throat so her sister wouldn't hear the lingering emotion that accompanied those words. "It makes me wonder if the broken engagement with Stenfax has hurt me more than we realized."
Rosalinde folded her arms. "I can't imagine that is true," she said. "There are only a handful of people who seem troubled. Stenfax has said as much, himself. If Clairemont would judge you for that, it seems he isn't much of a man, himself."
Celia let out a breath on a laugh. Leave it to Rosalinde to dismiss anyone out of hand who didn't like Celia. It was harder for Celia to do the same. Especially when the duke had inspired such … interesting reactions in her body and mind.
"You liked him," Rosalinde whispered.
Celia met her gaze carefully. "I did, actually. He really is very handsome and there was something about him … I can't explain it." She sighed and shook her head slowly. "But it doesn't matter, does it? His Grace has made it clear that he is not interested and that is the end of the conversation, I would assume."
"Perhaps not." Celia turned and found Gray inching back toward them. "I'm sorry, Celia, I realize I was not invited to this particular conversation, but I overheard it regardless. You assume the duke walked away because of your past, but that might not be true."
Celia pushed aside her embarrassment at Gray being so aware of her awkward conversation with the duke and clung to the possibility he now presented. "Why do you say that?"
"The Duke of Clairemont and I are of an age. Stenfax and I were in school with him a very, very long time ago. We lost touch for years, but after I inherited and began to invest, Clairemont wrote to me. He was interested in my dealings and connections. He has long been invested in my businesses. You said he turned away when you mentioned my name, didn't you?"
Celia nodded. "Yes."
Gray smiled as if he were more certain of what he was saying than before. "It may be that Clairemont was more concerned with the potential complications to our business relationship by talking to you without a chaperone or a proper introduction than he was worried about your broken engagement."
Celia moved closer, hope flaring dangerously in her chest. "Do you think so?"
"His correspondence is … " Gray pursed his lips. "Well, he is a meticulous man, we'll say. And quite concerned with managing his business relationships closely. I would say it is a good possibility."
Rosalinde slipped an arm around her. "You see? You jumped to a conclusion that may not be truth after all."
Celia let out a sigh of relief. "I hope what you say is true, Gray."
He cast a quick glance at Rosalinde before he said, "Well, there is one way to find out, I suppose. What if we invited him for supper?"
Celia's eyes went wide. "Do you think he would come?"
"Why not? A party like this is too difficult to truly talk to anyone. And I get the feeling the man is slightly overwhelmed by his return to Society after so long away."
"Yes," Celia agreed. "On the terrace, he seemed out of sorts."
"I'm certain he would jump at the offer of a quieter gathering," Rosalinde said with a wide smile for Gray. "And then we could ascertain with certainty why the man walked away tonight and if he's worth all this anxiety on your part."
Celia couldn't help her broad smile. Rosalinde was right that a more intimate setting would give her a chance to read Clairemont better. But then again, if he didn't want to know her better, if her past did cut off a chance of a future, it would be a rather embarrassing night.
But if that happened, then she'd feign a headache and simply vow to avoid him for the rest of her life.
There, it was decided.
"If you have other business with the duke, I think inviting him to supper is a fine idea," Celia said, trying to sound like she wasn't fully invested in whatever Gray did. "As I said, I got along with the man insofar as we talked. I wouldn't mind seeing him again."
Gray nodded, though the look he and Rosalinde exchanged wasn't subtle to say the least. "Excellent. Then I will send an invitation tomorrow morning for supper the night after. Now, Celia, would you like the dance?"
Celia smiled at her brother-in-law and took his hand to go to the dance floor. But as they moved into the allemande together, her mind spun on thoughts of the Duke of Clairemont. A night together in the company of her sister and brother-in-law would allow her to see him again, and perhaps even test a little more of the connection she had felt with him outside.
After all, what harm could it do?
Chapter Five
Clairemont had always prided himself in his ability to plan. No one in the War Department was better than him at orchestrating the accidental meeting or the carefully handled conversation that would casually lead to real information.
But after the Marquess Harrington's ball, he hadn't been forced to arrange such a casual way to come face to face with Miss Celia Fitzgilbert and her family. An invitation had arrived the next morning in Grayson Danford's neat, even handwriting that Clairemont had come to know so well during the course of his investigation.
I'm sorry the crush of the ball prevented us from speaking. Won't you join my family for supper tomorrow night?
Clairemont had read that note over and over, trying to find every nuance, trying to ascertain guilt or innocence in the turn of the phrases, the hand. But he had discovered nothing. Still, it was a good opportunity to meet privately with the man.