she decided, and so she had her maid fasten it around her throat. It was the perfect length and the very simplicity of the setting made one focus on the deep purple depths of the stone and then the violet of Clare’s eyes.
She was very glad she had worn it when she saw the look in Giles’s eyes as he greeted her warmly and publicly congratulated her on her betrothal.
Clare had never thought of herself as competitive with other women. Indeed, she saw herself as having very little to offer in contrast to some of this year’s beauties. But she had to confess to a certain satisfaction as she saw the look of envy in several women’s eyes. She had captured the heart of the handsomest man in London, she thought, as she and Justin whirled around the room, in their first waltz of the evening, and she let herself enjoy her moment of triumph.
Several people had complimented her on her appearance, particularly mentioning her pendant. She thanked them and said to a few that it was a gift from an old friend. After their dance, when Justin had invited her out onto one of the balconies for some fresh air, she assumed he was taking the opportunity to steal a kiss or two, and after he closed the French doors behind them, she lifted her face. He only stood there, arms crossed, looking down at her.
“What is wrong, Justin,” she asked, puzzled by his reaction.
He reached out his hand and lifting the pendant with his finger, pulled it gently and then a little harder, so that Clare had to move closer to him.
“It is a lovely piece, my dear. And it certainly does match your eyes.” He was only repeating the compliments she had already received but in a tone she had never heard from him before. “Who did give you this, Clare?”
What had seemed like a simple gesture of friendship earlier in the evening now seemed rather foolish and naive. “Giles gave it to me, Justin. He is an old friend, and one who had ... certain expectations that were disappointed.” Clare had not told Justin of Giles’s proposal, only that she had personally informed him of her own. “I only wore it,” she continued, “to show my appreciation of his understanding and friendship. He really does wish me happy, Justin, as I am, my dear,” she added, putting her hand on his arm.
Justin closed his eyes for a minute, and when he opened them, Clare saw such a look of insecurity that it quite tore at her heart.
“I am sorry, Clare,” he stammered, releasing her. “It is only that I cannot quite believe that you really love me. After all, you and Whitton have had a long history between you.”
“Only of friendship, Justin,” said Clare quietly. “I see now that I was very naive and insensitive to wear the necklace this evening. I think I did so partly because I feel so guilty about my treatment of Giles. Because I feel sorry that he has not found the love that I have.” She reached her hands up and struggled with the clasp. “Here,” she said, grasping his wrist and turning his hand over. “I won’t wear it again if it disturbs you.”
Justin’s fingers closed over the pool of gold, and his thumb fingered the facets of the amethyst. “I can almost summon up some sympathy for Whitton myself, for I can’t imagine what it would feel like to lose you to another man,” he said, as he slipped the necklace into his pocket.
“You do not have to imagine it, Justin, for it will never, ever happen. You have all of my heart, forever.”
They did not kiss then, or later that evening, but Clare felt closer to Justin than she ever had. It was something she would never have expected: that the most heartbreakingly handsome man in London was only another insecure human being like herself. The fact that their need was mutual, as well as their passion, convinced her that their marriage would be a long and happy one.
* * * *
Giles had had very mixed feelings about Clare’s decision to wear his pendant. His first and last reaction was a surge of simple
She was very glad she had worn it when she saw the look in Giles’s eyes as he greeted her warmly and publicly congratulated her on her betrothal.
Clare had never thought of herself as competitive with other women. Indeed, she saw herself as having very little to offer in contrast to some of this year’s beauties. But she had to confess to a certain satisfaction as she saw the look of envy in several women’s eyes. She had captured the heart of the handsomest man in London, she thought, as she and Justin whirled around the room, in their first waltz of the evening, and she let herself enjoy her moment of triumph.
Several people had complimented her on her appearance, particularly mentioning her pendant. She thanked them and said to a few that it was a gift from an old friend. After their dance, when Justin had invited her out onto one of the balconies for some fresh air, she assumed he was taking the opportunity to steal a kiss or two, and after he closed the French doors behind them, she lifted her face. He only stood there, arms crossed, looking down at her.
“What is wrong, Justin,” she asked, puzzled by his reaction.
He reached out his hand and lifting the pendant with his finger, pulled it gently and then a little harder, so that Clare had to move closer to him.
“It is a lovely piece, my dear. And it certainly does match your eyes.” He was only repeating the compliments she had already received but in a tone she had never heard from him before. “Who did give you this, Clare?”
What had seemed like a simple gesture of friendship earlier in the evening now seemed rather foolish and naive. “Giles gave it to me, Justin. He is an old friend, and one who had ... certain expectations that were disappointed.” Clare had not told Justin of Giles’s proposal, only that she had personally informed him of her own. “I only wore it,” she continued, “to show my appreciation of his understanding and friendship. He really does wish me happy, Justin, as I am, my dear,” she added, putting her hand on his arm.
Justin closed his eyes for a minute, and when he opened them, Clare saw such a look of insecurity that it quite tore at her heart.
“I am sorry, Clare,” he stammered, releasing her. “It is only that I cannot quite believe that you really love me. After all, you and Whitton have had a long history between you.”
“Only of friendship, Justin,” said Clare quietly. “I see now that I was very naive and insensitive to wear the necklace this evening. I think I did so partly because I feel so guilty about my treatment of Giles. Because I feel sorry that he has not found the love that I have.” She reached her hands up and struggled with the clasp. “Here,” she said, grasping his wrist and turning his hand over. “I won’t wear it again if it disturbs you.”
Justin’s fingers closed over the pool of gold, and his thumb fingered the facets of the amethyst. “I can almost summon up some sympathy for Whitton myself, for I can’t imagine what it would feel like to lose you to another man,” he said, as he slipped the necklace into his pocket.
“You do not have to imagine it, Justin, for it will never, ever happen. You have all of my heart, forever.”
They did not kiss then, or later that evening, but Clare felt closer to Justin than she ever had. It was something she would never have expected: that the most heartbreakingly handsome man in London was only another insecure human being like herself. The fact that their need was mutual, as well as their passion, convinced her that their marriage would be a long and happy one.
* * * *
Giles had had very mixed feelings about Clare’s decision to wear his pendant. His first and last reaction was a surge of simple
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