Clara remained silent and composed throughout most of the dinner, speaking only when addressed, just as her father had always taught her. The atmosphere was formal and strained, with her father making an effort to engage in light conversation with their guests. Clara observed the Caldwells closely, noting their polite but somewhat detached demeanor.
It was unusual for them to have guests at home. Richard had always been somewhat ashamed of their current state. Their once-grand mansion, with its faded elegance, had seen better days. The gardens, once meticulously maintained, now showed signs of neglect. The flowers were wilting, and the hedges were overgrown. Richard had chosen to spend what little money he had left on maintaining the inside of the house and paying the maids to keep things clean, rather than investing in the upkeep of the exterior.
Clara couldn't help but feel a pang of discomfort. The contrast between their modestly maintained home and the polished, upscale appearance of the Caldwells made the disparity even more apparent. Richard, with his usual pride, tried to brush off any concerns about the house's condition, but Clara could see the strain in his attempts to appear nonchalant.
As the evening progressed, Clara was taken aback by Henry Jr.'s unexpected change in demeanor. Throughout the meal, he began to act unusually pleasant, engaging her in light conversation with a surprising warmth. His tone was more friendly, and he even slipped in a few flirtatious comments, something that was completely at odds with his previous coldness.
Clara noticed the shift as he complimented her dress, noting how it complemented her eyes. "You look absolutely stunning tonight, Clara," he said with a genuine smile. "That dress is perfect on you."
Clara, caught off guard, forced a polite smile. "Thank you, Henry. That's very kind of you to say."
He continued to address her directly, asking about her interests and sharing anecdotes about his time at Princeton. His manner was charming, and he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. At one point, he even leaned in slightly, his tone softer than it had been before. "I remember you mentioning your interest in art. Have you had a chance to visit any galleries lately?"
Clara was taken aback by the sudden shift in his behavior. She glanced at her father, who was deep in conversation with Mr. Caldwell, seemingly oblivious to the change in Henry Jr.'s attitude. Clara couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion and unease. Just days ago, Henry Jr. had made it clear he had no interest in her, and now he was behaving as though he was genuinely interested in getting to know her better.
Her mind raced as she tried to reconcile this new, seemingly amiable Henry Jr. with the one who had been so dismissive and rude.
After dinner, Clara and Henry Jr. were purposefully left alone in the living room by their parents, who retreated to the study under the guise of discussing business. Clara felt the weight of the orchestrated setup and turned to Henry Jr., her expression guarded.
"You don't have to pretend to be nice anymore," Clara said, her voice edged with frustration. "They're not watching us now."
Henry Jr. leaned back on the couch, a smirk playing on his lips. "Pretend? Clara, I'm not pretending."
Clara crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "Really? Because a few days ago, you made it very clear how much you didn't want anything to do with me."
Henry's smirk faded slightly, and he sighed. "Look, I’m sorry about how I acted before. I was just... angry about this whole situation. I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair."
Clara raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "So what's changed?"
Henry looked down, his expression turning serious. "I thought about some stuff my father said, and I realized that I was being childish. This situation isn't your fault any more than it's mine. I figured the least I could do was try to make the best of it, for both our sakes."
Clara's arms dropped to her sides, her guard lowering just a fraction. "I appreciate that, but it doesn’t make this any easier."
Henry nodded, his eyes sincere. "I know. But maybe if we work together, we can find a way through this that doesn't make us both miserable."
Clara studied him for a moment, searching for any hint of deceit. Seeing none, she sighed and uncrossed her arms. "Alright. Let's see if we can at least be civil to each other."
Henry smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "That's a start."
Clara began to see something sweet and charming about Henry now that he was treating her well. Their conversation flowed smoothly, filled with lighthearted banter and genuine interest. Henry's compliments and attentive demeanor made her feel seen and appreciated in a way she hadn't expected.
As they talked, Clara couldn't help but compare the experience to her time with Adrian. The intensity and thrill she felt with Adrian were absent, replaced by a more gentle, comforting connection. It wasn't the same, but it wasn't unpleasant either.
At some point, they wandered out to the garden. The night was cool, and the moonlight cast a soft glow over the wild flowers and poorly kept bushes. They walked side by side, their conversation continuing with ease. Henry stopped near a bench, turning to face her with a thoughtful expression.
"Clara," he said softly, taking her hand. "I'm really glad we had this chance to talk. I know this isn't ideal for either of us, but I hope we can at least be friends."
Clara smiled, touched by his sincerity. "Me too, Henry. Thank you for being so understanding tonight."
Without another word, Henry leaned in and kissed her courtly on the cheek. It was a gentle, respectful kiss, but it sent a shiver through Clara nonetheless. She felt a warmth spreading in her chest, mingling with the confusing emotions stirred by her thoughts of Adrian. Henry then stole a kiss from her lips, a slow and delicate kiss.
As they stood in the moonlit garden, Clara realized that while her feelings for Henry might not have the same intensity as those for Adrian, there was potential for something real and meaningful between them. She looked at Henry and smiled, deciding to see where this new connection might lead.
Clara looked up and noticed her father watching them from the balcony. His figure was silhouetted against the light from the house, his posture rigid and watchful. A chill ran down her spine as she realized how closely he was monitoring their interaction.
After the Caldwells left, Clara and her father sat in the living room. The tension in the air was palpable. Richard observed Clara with a critical eye, his expression a mix of concern and determination.
"You seemed to grow more fond of the Caldwell boy," Richard remarked, his tone neutral but probing.
Clara sighed, sinking into the couch. "He was nice to me tonight. But that doesn't mean I want to marry him."
Richard's face hardened. "Nice or not, you will marry him, Clara. You have to try harder to like him better. Or not. Just accept things as they are."
Clara's eyes flashed with frustration. "But Dad, this isn't fair! I don't even know him."
Richard stood up, pacing the room. "Fair or not, this is our reality. It's a strategic move, not just for us but for our future. You need to understand that."
Clara shook her head, feeling a sense of helplessness. "I'm not a pawn in your business deals."
Richard stopped and faced her, his eyes stern. "No, you're not. But you're my daughter, and this is what's best for us. For you. It's time to grow up and face the responsibilities that come with our name."
Clara swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on her. She knew arguing further was pointless. Her father's mind was made up, and her protests would only fall on deaf ears. She forced herself to nod, even as her heart rebelled against the path laid out before her.