By the time Bennet returned in the evening, Clara had tabulated in her mind the things she wished to speak to him about, but somehow she ended up not saying them.
Aside wondering where he went to all day, which shouldn't be any business of hers, she also wondered how long it will take to get into Isabella's good graves.
Bennet seemed preoccupied and brusque and his manner did not encourage suggestions that might sound a little like interference on such short aquaintance.
Clara obseved him covetly. He seemed vey professional in his smart clothes with his well shaved hair and amazing body, that gave his face the look of a middle aged man. Yet he looked way professional and not nearly approachable like he had appeared back then at the park.
She moved uneasily and he looked at her suddenly over his paper, with that concerned gaze she was now getting to know.
"You have the unusual gift of knowing when to refrain from chating, don't you?" he said.
"Most gentlemen I know do not like to be disturbed whan reading the paper." She told him, and he smiled and put the paper down.
"That's true to some extent." he said. "But I should have taken more interest in finding out how your first at the mansion as Mrs. Lewin went."
"It was a good day, I checked through all the rooms in the mansion and Miss. Maloney visited."
He frowned. "Oh, yes. What on earth prompted you to give her that garbled account of our meeting at the park?"
"How did you know?' she asked out of curiosity rather than dismay
"She called my phone." He replied.
"Oh."
"To warn me to give you a hint not to spread the story among my colleagues and other residents of Eschial gardens."
"Well, I don't know your colleagues and the other residents of the estate." She replied calmly. Anyway, it was true, wasn't it?"
He did not smile.
"Not the impression you gave Miss. Maloney. You don't owe her an explanation. Do not feel intimated when you talk to these people. They might force out the naive part of you, if you don't stand your ground." He told her nicely.
"I'm sorry." She said. "I'll make sure to stand my ground next time. Although Miss. Maloney was too upsetting."
"She was probably only trying to be kind," he told he shortly. "Please, remember that she is an old friend of the family and can be vey helpful to you in adapting to your new life."
She looked at him under her lashes. Men were very obtuse, she reflected without surprise. She was certain that Bethany, was the one he was running away from. Did he think that because he had now safeguarded himself with a wife, Bethany's feelings would immediately be tucked away?
"I'll remember," she replied.
"There are certain people you will be expected to meet. I want you to know that you are now the mistress of the Lewin's household and as such you are your husband's wife. So, you need to let these people know you are not such an ordinary person. And you have the treat these according to their deserving characters" Bennet said to Clara's surprise.
She couldn't believe that he'll trust her enough to handle the people in his world efficiently. This was not the type of world she grew up in, so it was normal to face certain challenges. Yet here he was indirectly encouraging her to be the boss. 'You are your husband's wife' he had said and she loved the sound of that.
"Did you have a difficult day?" she asked tentatively, and he smiled with more naturalness.
"I bet I give room for too much curiosity in our marriage," he said. "And I must say that I asked for it by keeping you so much in the dark. I'll definitely open up more and give you all the details you might need."
"But, isn't that what you married me?" she said politely. "A social protection that you do not necessarily have to tell everything?"
"I thought the arrangement was to our mutual advantage," he teased. "It favours me as much it does, you."
"That is so true Bennet," she smiled, catching the teasing tone in his voice.
"What do you say we pay your mother a visit at the private clinic tomorrow, as a couple. I feel rather uneasy knowing that I didn't seek her permission before we finalized this union and worst still, I haven't even spoken to her yet, personally." He confessed, leaning forward and patting her on the knee, with a quizzical look.
Clara paused for a moment, imagining how her mother would feel with his presence. She was mad about the union. Although she accepted to be treated courtesy of Bennet, it still haven't changed her view that Bennet was some arrogant, manipulative, rich Buffon. "I don't know." She said truthfully. "Maybe we can go together then." She replied.
"You'll be my bullet proof if she decides to shoot me." he said, unexpectedly dropping his stiff manner. "I've no doubt it will all work out for good. Now, tell me, did you settle in properly, and is Isabella finally warming up to the idea of a stepmother?"
"There have not been much opportunity to bond with Isabella," she replied evasively. "All the morning she did lessons in playroom, which looks rather horrible and depressing by the way." She said feeling the need to air her views as plain as she could. "And after lunch she had to rest, and I did not see her again."
"Didn't you have tea together?"
"No. Beatrice did not permit it. I guess she has assumed the position of Isabella's tutor, nanny and the Mansion's head of staff. Isn't that too much for one person? And do you at least pay her enough for her trouble." She asked curious.
"Well, you see, Isabella is so used to Beatrice and I didn't think it was okay to go hunting for a Nanny or tutor when Beatrice offered to do both. She said it wasn't any trouble and she loves spending time with the little one. So, I pay her all the due allowance for each of the job description." Bennet explained.
Clara nodded. "Well done." She praised him. "There was, you see, a little trouble at lunch." She started.
His dark eyes rested on her with a guarded expression. "What sort of trouble?"
"She, Isabella was disappointed that Miss Maloney did not stay for lunch."
"Oh, is that all? I'm afraid Isabella would rather throw unnecessary tantrums when she doesn't get what she wants. I was hoping you'd be good for her, as a mother. I thought that was what she's lacking, hence her excessive impulsive behavior. Maybe it is, we'll have to find out pretty soon." He winked at her, throwing away the straightforward and guarded expression he always had.
"I don't think she likes me. She seems very devoted to Miss Maloney." Clara confessed her worries.
"She'll expect you to call her Bethany, you know," he said with an unexpected twinkle, and added, "Isabella's affections are inclined to be subject to her needs. There was a time when she resented Bethany very much."
"When she thought she might become her stepmother?" asked Clara calmly, but he only smiled.
"Children get odd notions," he replied. "Why did you describe the playroom as depressing and horrible?"
"Well, there are those official furniture, the bars on the window that scream cage and cell, there is hardly any sun penetrating the room at all, the walls are so plain. No fun paintings to show that it belongs to a child aside those depressing looking teddy-bears lying around." Her thin hands began to emote. "There are so many unused rooms in the house, Bennet, why...."
His eyes were cold and guarded again. "We consider the playroom as the best room for Isabella," he said briefly, and added, "I hope you won't interfere with Beatrice's routine, Clara. You didn't interfere when you were Isabella's Nurse, I don't see why you should now."
Clara was silent, and he said with a reluctant smile, "Beatrice has a kind and straightforward manner. It might take a while to get used to that, especially now that you're no longer a worker but the new Mrs. Lewin. A very young one at that." He said, trying out a sweet smile to ease the tension.
But Clara didn't find him funny. 'He thinks I am too young.' She thought, with surprise at such a misconception in a man said to have explored the world. It was even more annoying because the age difference was barely noticeable. Bennet looked like a perfect thirty-five years old, and Clara, well, she looked like she needed a lot of food to fill up some places in order to have a clearer definition of her curves, but one could easily mistake her for nothing more than a twenty-two years old. But, she was twenty seven. And that was just few more years to thirty, even if she don't look it.