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Three Days Later
For the past few days, Clara had refused to leave the house. She had refused to see anyone except her friends and grandmother. John Foreman had requested to see her, but she didn't have the courage to face him. She was going to spend the rest of her life with a man who clearly loves her, but it wasn't mutual on her side. She would need time to digest that.
She had spent most of the time in her room, reading all the old letters she and John Smith had exchanged. She missed him terribly. The only thoughts which kept her mind sane were that of their memories together and the cottage of which he spoke of.
It had only been three days, but it felt like eternity and this was her own personal hell.
She heard a soft knock coming from the door but ignored it. It was probably her father. They hadn't spoken since she had returned or rather had been avoiding each other. The last thing she wanted to do was argue was with. Surely, he would broach the subject of marriage. She was sure he would after the action she took. Eventually, she would have to tell him that she would agree to wed John Foreman.
Slowly, the door was pushed opened and Clara was surprised to see not her father, but her best friend, Amy Pond.
Wordlessly, she ran up to her and hugged her friend. "What are you doing here?"
"Visiting my best friend, of course," Amy chuckled, pulling away. "Your nan told me what happened."
Clara merely gave her a sad smile.
"Alright," she said, with determination. "I need to know what really went on because I'm sure you left out a lot of details to everyone."
There was a reason why she was her best friend.
Clara groaned and covered her face with a hand. "I don't even know where to begin."
"The beginning."
"John and I, we told my father we wanted to get married," she began. "But he didn't approve and expects me to just end my relationship with John, so I-"
Amy's eyes widened. "Ok, just stop for a moment- why doesn't your father approve – he's been wanting you to get married for what, years now."
"I honestly don't know, Amy," Clara sighed, sitting on a chair. "I… I got upset and thought that maybe John would agree to elope, so I took a train to Blackpool to…"
Clara had trouble finishing her sentence. She felt Amy place a comforting hand on hers.
"John found me at the cemetery and that was it – my plan didn't work."
Her best friend gave her a look. She knew there was more to it.
"What?"
Amy rolled her eyes. "Well, that can't be it – he found you and when exactly did you return to London – oh, that's right, the next day and obviously, the two of you must have talked."
Clara tried to look calm and collected. "We stayed at a hotel – the snow was too heavy that day," she said quietly, avoiding her gaze. She finally gave up when she saw her friend smirk. "Oh, alright!"
"I want to know all about it," Amy giggled.
Clara's face immediately reddened. "We shared a bed," she admitted, almost in a whisper.
"I knew it - you've stopped calling him Dr Smith so something obviously changed," Amy exclaimed before she was immediately shushed. "Sorry, continue."
"We shared a bed, and nothing happened," Clara insisted. "I told him I wanted to elope, but John insisted on us returning since nan gave him her trust… and he told me to marry John Foreman."
Amy furrowed her brows in confusion. "Is it because of your father?"
"More or less," Clara sighed.
"Are you really going with it – you can't do this to yourself, Clara!"
She shrugged. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
Amy was speechless. She had known Clara ever since they were children and if there was one thing she was sure of her best friend wasn't one to give up easily.
"I lose either way, anyway – if I marry John, I'll lose my father, my family, and if I wed the man my father approves of, I'll lose John," she added with a hint of sadness.
"Alright, here's the ring – I made sure it was the right size so don't ask," Harold Saxon muttered as he handed the engagement ring to John.
The young man pulled the box opened and stared at it. None of this felt right. He would be jumping with joy right now if there wasn't anything suspicious going on.
"Why do you want me to propose now?" he asked.
His cousin waved a hand. "You two have known each other for a while now so her father and your father thought it's now or never."
"I find that hard to believe – how can I marry a woman who refuses to even see me, let alone talk to me," John retorted, pocking the ring.
Harold stared at his cousin, debating what to tell him. "Fine, I wasn't supposed to tell you this just yet, but, the reason your future wife ran away in the first place is that she was scared," he lied smoothly.
"Scared?" John repeated sarcastically.
"The last time she saw you was back when you were children and you're all grown up now – she wasn't sure if you were still the same kind and loving John Foreman she met all those years ago and Clara has been unmarried up until now – she spent a significant part of her life with her family so of course, the idea of not seeing them as often anymore terrifies her – it would terrify any woman."
He took his time to process his cousin's words carefully. Harold is a businessman and known for talking his way through things. He would need more than just words of assurance from him.
"And how do you know all of this?"
The older man smiled. "I talked to her father – he explained everything so there is no need for you to worry whether she loves you or not – it's more about herself."
John had other ideas in mind. He didn't believe his cousin completely. No, he would not believe Harold unless he heard the same explanation coming from Clara herself. The problem is, she doesn't want to see him.
"So why ask me to propose now if she is in no state to see anyone?"
Harold rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking you to propose to her at this exact moment, cousin dearest – I'm sure Mr Oswald will have a chat with your bride and assure her that not much will change."
He gave his cousin a hard stare before accepting his answer. "That reminds me – I'm very much aware that I'm not the only one after Clara's heart."
"What are you on about – you're her only suitor."
He hated it when Harold played dumb. His patience was wearing thin. "Stop treating me like an idiot, Harold."
Harold shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Maybe he realised he didn't stand a chance against a wealthy, young man or maybe Mr Oswald had a talk with him – I don't know everything there is to know, John."
John had made up his mind. There is more to it. He needed answers. He was going to see Clara whether she wants to see him or not. He left the room without another word, leaving Harold by himself who was busy going through the letters he received in the morning.
One particular letter piqued his interest when he remembered a young boy running into the estate as if the devil was chasing him.
Silently, he opened the white envelope, pulled out the letter, unfolded it and scanned it carefully, eyes slowly widening in shock and horror.
His merchant ship which was en route to London from India was robbed by pirates last night. Every single cargo on the ship was stolen. All 200,000 pounds worth of goods.
"Clara hasn't been eating much at all and I'm worried sick," Donna said as she entered the kitchen with a tray still full of food. "Lord forbid if she keeps this up."
"It obviously had something to do with what happened a few days ago," gossiped a maid.
A young man suddenly asked, "Did Clara say anything, Donna – I'm getting worried – I've only known her for a few years and she's never this upset."
Donna shook her head. "She's been quiet, and Amy hasn't had much success getting her to leave her room either."
"What do you think happened between her and Dr Smith – they looked, I don't really know how to put it," said one of the stable boys, scratching his head, "Upset, as if they weren't going to see each other again."
"I wish I knew, James," Donna replied, setting the tray into the sink. "If I see Medicine Boy again, I'm going to hit his head with a rolling pin for upsetting Clara – I'm going to hit him so hard, his grandchildren will feel it."
Mr Rentford, who was minding his own business, looked up from the newspapers. "Why would you want to attack Dr Smith – he brought Clara home."
"And said something that upset her, obviously."
Mr Rentford had a feeling, no, knew there was more to it. Dr Smith didn't upset her. If he had, she wouldn't have shared a carriage with him. Why sit in a box with a man you are upset at for an hour, if not for a different reason. Of course, he kept this to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was spread more rumours.
"Whatever it is, Medicine Boy is a dead man, next time I see him."
Will you at least talk to her?" Clarice inquired, almost pleading with her son.
Dave shook his head. "She should be the one talking to me, mother – does she have any idea what kind of trouble she's caused – I had to explain personally to Lord Rassilon why my daughter decided to suddenly vanish while his son is preparing to propose to her."
"Perhaps you shouldn't have promised Clara to John Foreman in the beginning – what were you thinking, Dave?"
Dave sighed tiredly. "I… I was frustrated she kept turning down every single suitor I could find – when I met Lord Rassilon, he told me he was having the same problem, so we had an agreement."
"Have mercy on your daughter."
"I am showing her mercy – I'm securing her future – if she marries Foreman, she will be financially secure, safe, and loved – once she is his wife, she will have forgotten all about Dr Smith."
Clarice placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Dave, it isn't too late – perhaps, if you explain it to Mr Foreman or Lord Rassilon the truth, then-"
He couldn't picture his daughter being happily married to Dr Smith, even if she did love him.
"A promise is a promise, mother, and I don't understand why everyone is siding with Dr Smith – he's 20 years her senior – what does everyone see that I don't?"
She smiled sadly at him. "Happiness, love – everyone sees that in them, except you, Dave."
Their conversation was interrupted when a knock was heard coming from the door.
"Come in."
As it swung open, Clara stepped in her face blank.
"Clara, darling," Clarice said gently. "What brings you here?"
She could tell her granddaughter was fighting back tears.
"I've made my mind, father," she spoke, voice shaking. "I agree to marry John Foreman."
Her grandmother's eyes widened in shock. What on earth has possessed her only granddaughter?
"Have you now – it is a relief that you are following my wishes for once," Dave said coolly. "Very well then, thank you, Clara."
He smiled at her. "This is good news, indeed – see mother, she has come to her senses."
She nodded and turned around to leave the room, her grandmother following behind her.
"Clara, Clara," Clarice called, trying to catch her attention. She knew she was only avoiding her so that she wouldn't see the tears.
Clara didn't say anything until she returned to her bedroom where Amy was anxiously waiting for her. She couldn't hold it any longer and broke down, consoled by her grandmother and best friend.
"Clara, why on earth would you do this to yourself?" Clarice asked, gently.
"I tried talking her out of it," Amy explained.
Clara shook her head. "What good would that do – father is dying, I can't marry the man I love because I'm promised to someone else…"
It would seem she had heard everything.
Amy caressed her best friend's hair. "Oh, Clara, I'm sorry."
Clarice stared her granddaughter for a moment before she made up her mind. "Pack your bags - run away with Dr Smith-"
"He doesn't want me to do that, nan, I…," she sniffed, embarrassed to her own grandmother she had thought of it first. "I asked him to elope and he said no… he doesn't want me to choose between him and father."
Any other person would have been horrified and angry that their child or grandchild would think of doing such a thing, but she wasn't. If anything, she was sure, now than ever before that they were meant to be together.
"He told you to marry Mr Foreman," she concluded. It explained everything, then. The looked that they shared days ago. It was a goodbye. "I'm so sorry, Clara, I'm so sorry things are the way they are."