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The last thing that Clara thought of right now was being fired. Though she knew it was coming. Right now she could only feel the fear that Lina was out there alone!--or worse . . . not alone. That someone had taken her.

"Maybe fifteen minutes?!" Clara told him, following in step with him even though she knew that she should be walking behind him. Right now all the rules are gone! There was only the fear that she was missing. "The garden was right out the door, and when she was gone for more than a moment I went looking for her. The garden was empty." And the fear began. "I looked all around the garden but there was no one there. So I ran to find you. I asked the kitchen help to begin looking around the grounds but . . . " But there were not many places Lina would go. 

She knew better. She was a well behaved her. Lina would not just walk off somewhere on her own. It did not make any sense. Yet would someone really dare to take her? Clara did not think so either. Clearly one had happened. Which was why Clara had not wasted time looking longer. She'd ran to him to sound the alarm. Ran to him for help.

Clara shifted Lina higher in her arms as she knocked on the ducal door. Looking around the wonderful neighborhood, she could not help but to smile at the location. It was not often one visited a duke! How grand that today she would be in the sitting room of the duke! Her mother would had the fits when she found out.

A servant opened the door, and Clara smiled in greeting, giving over Lina's name first and then her own, as was proper. Lina was only just over a year old, and while she could walk and babble she wasn't able to give her own name at this time.

Clara was shown to a quite lovely sitting room to wait the duke for his visit with Lina. Clara sat Lina down to balance or stand by the sofa while she lay a blanket down. Once it was flat, she sat Lina on it and handed her a doll to play with. Clara was sitting there when the doors opened, and she looked up for her first glance of the Duke.

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One should think that when visiting the home of a Duke that the expression would could use was 'grand'. Such as 'How grand!' or 'Isn't it grand!'. However, Clara was not so sure that grand could be applied to anything other then the grand setting of the duke's sitting room. That was because she was not only watching dear Lina, but Sir Gilly too.

Lina she trusted to not eat the draperies, or worse--ruin the carpet. She had purposefully tried to make sure gilly was well exercised before coming, in hopes that he would sleep most of the visit. Thus far he was not sleeping.

After being shown into the drawing room with Mr Lord Slade (she had to remember to address him more formally here), Clara took in the grand setting and knew that this was going to be a challenge. A home such as this was not meant to house a goat.

Taking a set on the sofa, with pristine posture that would make her mother proud, Clara looked to Mr. Slade for reassurance that the goat was welcome, before looking at Lina, "Lina dearest, please keep a sharp eye on Gilly today." She reminded Lina while they awaited the Duke to join them.

He walked in, and toward the other side of the room. Clara watched him for a moment, before looking back toward the hall. No one was there, and she wondered why she would even look. It was more something to do than of need or expectation. Closing the door softly, she turned to face his back, and found her fingers coming together to twist and interlock from the nerves of the moment.

Finally he looked at her, and Clara found herself exhaling a small breath she had not known she was holding. Once again a short and nervous, or almost reassuring smile crossed her face. Meanwhile he questioned what she knew--or well, if she knew what happened. Her mother had given her a very enlightening and shocking speech the night before we wedding (assuming that she would need it for that night).

Since then, she had not sought out more information. However, she seemed to understand the basics. She assumed. She knew men were built different, and he would need to---well, she knew the physical mannerism. "I do," she reassured, and then found herself looking down with a very slight smile, then looking back up. "I mean, I understand."

For some reason, having said I do put her at ease slightly (though only momentarily) as the memory of her wedding day came to mind. The light moment faded slowly as she returned to the moment.

Clara paced in her room, knowing that if she kept going she would wear a path in the rug, but she could not settled and be still. Not knowing what would happen tonight. Her life was perfect in a sense. Married to a good and wealthy man (though the money did not mean much to her, it had added to the ease of her life now), mother to an daughter of her heart, and a family that she loved very, very much. There was only one thing missing. A child of her own. Something she wanted for everyone. For her a child to have, for Lina a sibling, and for her husband a new little child to love. And she knew he would. Yet . . . she was not sure he would ever be ready.

Not for what was to come. She knew he did not enjoy touching, and while she did not know why, she knew that this would be hard for them both. Apart of her feared that this would evidently changed the ease between them. That this could make this awkward were now there was simplicity and friendship.

It had been hard for her to knock on his office door that day, and ask to speak with him. To tell him that after being married for a while now, she was ready--when he was--for a child that would be theirs. It had taken her a few days to work up the courage to ask--not for fear of him, but knowing that would mean she was inviting him to her bed.

And that was not something she thought he wanted.

Linking her arm with him, Clara felt her heart skip a beat. Being this close to him, touching him arm, which felt stronger under her touch then had assumed it would be, was worth more then the gown and the ball. Walking by his side, was the feeling of both heavy and light. He paused them at the door, and Clara looked up at him. His eyes were already on her, and they caused a slight warmth to spread from her chest to her neck. A heat in her cheeks under his stare.

Then he spoke, and his words would play in her head tonight, like music on repeat. She never wanted to forget the way he looked at her, looked in her, and spoke the words. It cased her smile to widen, and her breath to shaken pull in. He thought her beautiful. More so tonight, but his words suggested that he always did. Her fingers tightened slightly over his shelve, as she thanked him. "I feel so, standing here." With you. With the way he looked at her.

Her words were unspoken, and she almost spoke them allowed. Yet she was not feeling quite yet so brave. Perhaps as the night went on. They moved down the house steps and over the the carriage. The drive opened the door, and held his hand out to her. Loathe to let Mr. Slade go, she paused for a moment, looking up at him, before letting him go slowly and reaching for the drivers hand. Stepping up into the carriage, she took her seat, and waited for him to enter.