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“I see you have
succeeded in restoring our young guest to rights, my dear. Well done, well
done. Strachan here has just been filling me in on his fortuitous meeting of
Mrs. Hamilton in the forest. How are you feeling now, dear lady?”
    “I’m much better, thank you but I fear I’ve
intruded on your evening long enough. I shall bid you good day.”
    “You will do nothing of the kind. Colonel,
you must urge Mrs. Hamilton to stay with us. I have done my best to convince
her she is welcome. She has told me the most fascinating story about an
encounter with a dead woman and I do so love the supernatural.”
    Trudy Delisle stepped forward and clasped
Clara’s hands in hers. “Miss Hamilton, you are among friends. Strachan has just
been telling me of your trouble and I wish you would stay and not leave here on
anyone’s account, save your own.”
    How much had Strachan told her? He promised
he would not breathe a word and within the space of an hour, he had told his
darling fiancée of Clara’s troubles .
    Clara’s mouth dried and her tongue stuck at
the back of her throat. It was all too much and much worse than she intended.
Decisions were being forced upon her at a time when she was least equipped to
make them. The only thing that stood out in her mind, a singular thought, was
she needed to warn her father of Branson’s treachery. Clara grasped hold of
this rational desire and let it be her guide.
    “Then you will understand, Miss Delisle,
why I must return to London as soon as possible. My father desperately needed
this marriage to take place to secure his business and I was eager to help, to
be useful. It was in this spirit, filled with many emotions, and of course,
flattered by Mr. Hamilton’s proposal that I came to Windemere.” Clara blushed
furiously. The parallels between her last supposed engagement and this one were
stark. How pitiful to be deluded a second time into thinking she was to be
married. “As you have heard from Captain Strachan, I was deceived as to Mr.
Hamilton’s true purpose. My chief concern now is to warn my father.”
    The silence was awkward.
    Mrs. Brockville kindly broke it. “Well
then, of course you must return home as soon as possible. We shall leave for
London first thing in the morning. Windemere Hall is not far off the main
route. Our driver will stop there to collect your trunks and that is all you
shall have to do with it. That is the best plan all around, don’t you agree,
Colonel Brockville?”
    “Certainly. Best thing not to alert the
villain of your plans until we are underway. The less Branson knows the better.
It is decided. You shall stay here and dine with us and Hills will make up the
guest room.”
    The old soldier clapped his hand to
Strachan’s shoulder and steered him to the door. “Come with me, young fellow. I
want an hour’s shooting before the sun goes. We’ll leave the ladies to minister
to Mrs. Hamilton. They’ll manage better without us.”
    Trudy lounged elegantly on a cushion near
the fire and tucked her feet under her gown. “I’ll say this about your Mr.
Hamilton, he is a handsome fellow.” Trudy flashed Clara an intimate smile. “I’ve
only seen him once or twice. He keeps very much to himself. He is exceedingly
rich, I hear. The scandal is that he inherited his estate and he is not even a
true Hamilton. Arthur Hamilton was up in arms when his brother’s will was read,
but there was not a thing he could do about it. The document was sound and the
estate was Branson Reilly’s.”
    “Branson Hamilton,” Clara corrected
quietly. “My uncle formally adopted him as his son when he was sixteen.”
    “Yes, but it is not the same thing, is it?
Strachan says no one knows where he came from or who his father was. He has
dangerous mystery about him, your young man.”
    “He is not my young man,” Clara said,
colouring to her scalp.
    “Oh come now. I realize you’ve had a
falling out but you don’t believe that soul mate nonsense, do you?