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Lady Cecilia Is Cordially Disinvited For Christmas Page 3
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Page 3
Why she troubled herself, she wasn’t sure, considering that the man could hardly be bothered to write to her.
He also hadn’t noticed her arrival— because he’d been entirely engrossed in his conversation with Miss Glassford.
What possible difference could her collar line or dress choice make today?
Cecilia glanced at her sister. “You should have heard the two of them plotting to have grandchildren together. It was as if I weren’t even there.”
“Surely they wouldn’t have been so cruel. Or so crass. What precisely did they say?”
Cecilia closed her eyes. “Lady Judith complimented Lady Vincent on having grandchildren and said she hoped to join her in that state soon.” She grimaced.
Evangeline’s eyebrows drew together. “That could quite easily mean that another of her children is expecting a child. You jumped to a conclusion.”
“I don’t think I did. You didn’t see the conspiratorial grins they exchanged.”
“Pish-posh. Don’t believe anything unless you hear it directly from Devin. His mother can’t be trusted. Are you certain you even want her as a mother-in-law?”
“I’m not certain of anything right now.” Well, that wasn’t true. She was certain that if Devin set her aside, he would break her heart. Her eyes pricked, warning her tears would soon follow.
Cecilia turned her back on her sister and picked up the pink dress.
“You know what you need to do, right?” Evangeline asked.
Cecilia stayed silent. She didn’t trust her voice not to betray her roiling emotions.
“You need to face him, Lady Vincent, and all the others. Don’t let that woman think she’s scored a point against you. It will only embolden her. You know I’m right.”
Cecilia lifted her chin as she mastered her emotions. Of course, she knew Evangeline was right. Lady Vincent could be ruthless when she scented blood. Cecilia would have come to the same conclusion on her own if her emotions hadn’t taken over and made her lose her good sense. Evangeline might be two years younger than she was— not even old enough for her first season— but she often acted more like the elder of the two.
A sudden pang of awareness pierced her and left her breathless. With Father’s finances in such a precarious state, would she even get a season of her own next year if Devin decided not to offer for her?
She stared again at that pink confection she’d planned to wear today with a growing sense of dread.
The thought of not being with Devin left her feeling numb. Breathless. Empty inside.
“You’re right. Of course you are,” Cecilia murmured through cold lips.
“I always am.”
She inhaled deeply and gathered herself. “You’re humble, too,” Cecilia said as she glanced over her shoulder at Evangeline. “I like that in a sister.”
“That’s not a trait I can claim That’s one of yours. I like that in a sister too.” Evangeline winked.
“Help me into this.” She gestured toward the pink dress. “I need to go to war.”
“Yes, sir, general.”
Evangeline picked up the gown and held it so Cecilia could dive into it without messing even a single strand of her hair. Evangeline made quick work of lacing the bodice, and in just a few minutes, Cecilia was ready to face the ravening crowd— or rather, the guests of Lord and Lady Vincent’s Christmas house party.
Cecilia forced a bright smile that felt as brittle as ice. “How do I look?”
“Like you’re about to take that Glassford woman down a notch— or ten.”
“Perfect.”
Noisy feet pounded down the corridor outside their bedroom door. Either a pack of wild dogs had invaded the house, or an excited group of children had been promised sweets.
Cecilia opened the door and sailed out into the hallway with her little sister at her heels. Ahead of her, a pack of children disappeared down the staircase. That was one nice thing about Lord and Lady Vincent’s Christmas house party— there were always lots of children around, and they were encouraged to take part in nearly all of the festivities.
“Let’s head back to the drawing room,” Cecilia said as she led the way down the staircase.
“Do you mind if we stop in the library first? I’d like to borrow something to read while we’re here. Lord Vincent has all of Mr. Dickens’s books. I’m dying to read more of David Copperfield.”
“Let’s do that first so we don’t forget.”
When they reached the foyer, the front door burst open as two men in snow-dusted overcoats hauled in a large, freshly cut pine tree. After a moment, Cecilia recognized one of the men as being Devin’s older brother, Horace Montlake, Lord Tittle.
“Lady Cecilia, Lady Evangeline,” Horace said. “How are you both this fine winter day?”
“Quite well, Lord Tittle,” Cecilia replied. “I see you’ve been busy.”
He brushed the snow from his shoulders. “We usually wait until Christmas Eve night to set up the tree, but Mother was worried about the weather and asked me to bring it inside now.”
“Will you put it in the drawing room again?” Evangeline asked.
“Yes, but I’ll leave it here in the foyer for now. Mother still hasn’t decided which spot she wants it to go in.” He glanced at the man holding the other end of the tree and jutted his chin toward a vacant corner.
“I’ll leave you to your endeavors,” Cecilia said. “Good day, Lord Tittle.”
“Good day, Lady Cecilia, Lady Evangeline.”
As they reached the door leading to the library, Cecilia heard a man’s voice from within. She paused to listen briefly, not wanting to interrupt.
“From what I gather,” the man said, “he invested in a shipment of sugar.”
Cecilia knew that voice. It was Lord Vincent, Devin’s father.
“The ship was caught in a storm and took on water,” he continued. “They made it to port, but the cargo was ruined. Sugar doesn’t like saltwater.”
Cecilia gasped. He was talking about her father.
“I don’t know why Babbage insists on investing in these harebrained schemes,” Lord Vincent said. “They always end in disaster. That family has the worst luck imaginable. Perhaps it comes from having that fool of a man heading it. I’m beginning to think people are right when they say he’s cursed. I can’t understand any other way he could consistently lose so much money.”
She stumbled back from the door as though she’d been struck. In a way, she had. Of course, she’d already known Lord Vincent disapproved of Father, but to hear it voiced so baldly still came as a shock.
She glanced at Evangeline to see her sister’s eyes wide with dismay. “We should leave.”
“I agree.” Evangeline scowled. “I don’t really want to borrow one of his books anymore.”
Lord Vincent was still speaking as Cecilia backed away, but thankfully she couldn’t make out his words. She didn’t think she could bear to hear more spiteful things come out of the man’s mouth.
A moment later, a different voice rose inside the room. An angry one. It only took Cecilia a moment to place it, but she had no doubt to whom it belonged.
Devin.
It had taken her a little longer to recognize it because she’d rarely heard it raised in anger.
“Father, you know where I stand,” he said. “You know why I’m here. That hasn’t changed. You don’t need to keep listing your reasons why Cecilia and I make a bad match. I’m perfectly aware of them.”
She stumbled and let out a gasp. If he’d slapped her, it couldn’t have shocked her more. She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t heard the words from his own lips.
Devin thinks they’d make a bad match?
Before she could recover from the shock, a figure appeared in the doorway. Devin, his expression thunderous, charged through it and plowed directly into Cecilia.
She stumbled from the impact, and Devin grabbed both of her elbows to keep her from falling.
He looked stunned
to see her.
Of course he was stunned. He was probably wondering how much she’d heard.
“Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”
More than he could know. “I’m fine,” she lied.
He looked as if he didn’t believe her.
“I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need you to defend me or rescue me.”
Shame washed over his face when he realized she must have overheard his words.
“Not that you sound as though you’re making much of an effort to stand up for us. However, my family is quite fine, thank you very much. You’d know that if you’d bothered to maintain regular communications with me over the past few months. Your infrequent letters made it impossible for me to write to you again since I hadn’t received a response from the last two I sent. As things stand right now, I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man alive.”
Devin opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Had she given him such a set-down that he’d become speechless? She hoped this didn’t happen to him often. As a barrister who regularly argued cases in court, words were his tools. If just anyone could render him speechless, he wouldn’t be very good at his job.
Cecilia didn’t wait for him to regain his voice. She spun on her heel and headed directly for the staircase. It was only at that moment that she realized what she’d just done.
I’ve broken things off with him.
Quite definitively.
Her stomach tightened and then clenched. Her chest felt as though it was about to collapse in on itself.
She forced herself to inhale air and keep moving.
Had she just made the worst mistake of her life?
She placed her hand on the newel post and glanced back.
Evangeline barred Devin from following her by placing a single hand firmly on his forearm. She was talking, but Cecilia wasn’t certain Devin was taking in anything she was saying to him. All his attention was fixed on her. His body, taut as a bowstring, seemed ready to fly toward her the moment Evangeline released her hold.
She couldn’t read the expression on his face. It kept changing. Was it pain? Confusion? Frustration? All of them?
She didn’t wait to find out.
She fled up the staircase.
4
Devin felt helpless as he stood in the hallway and watched Cecilia charge up the staircase.
“The least you can do refrain from chasing her down right now,” Evangeline said, her grip firm on his forearm. “Can’t you see how upset she is? She’d hate to make a scene where everyone can see.”
He stopped in his tracks. Did Evangeline expect him to just let Cecilia go? “You don’t understand. I need to explain. There’s been a terrible misunderstanding…”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me? She’s right, you know. You’re terrible about writing letters to her. Don’t you understand how that makes her feel? As if she doesn’t matter. As if you have too many better things to do with your time than keep in touch with her. As if she’s such a low priority in your life that she might as well not be in it.”
Devin finally glanced down at her, dumbfounded. “Don’t you understand how hard I’ve been working? I barely have time to eat, let alone write a letter. I wake up in the morning while it’s still dark and return home in the evening after everyone else in my boarding house has long been asleep. I fall into bed exhausted just to wake up the next day and start it all over again.”
Evangeline narrowed her eyes. “I find that hard to believe. You’re arguing cases in court. I can’t imagine that the judges work such long hours.”
“When I’m not arguing a case in court, I’m preparing for one. I’m determined to make a name for myself. People are beginning to realize that they can count on me no matter what. I dig in, do my research, practice my arguments, and win my cases.”
Evangeline frowned. “I suppose that makes sense. You always were of the ‘all work and no play’ variety of man. I’ll never understand what Cecilia sees in you. Why couldn’t you at least send a few lines to tell her you didn’t have time to write a proper letter?”
He closed his eyes and sighed. It was simple. He hadn’t written because he had assumed she would understand how busy he was— and because writing to her made him miss her all the more. Even so, he could had dashed off a few words here and there, just so she’d know he was alive… alive and thinking of her.
There was a part of him that felt injured by Cecilia’s lack of empathy for his situation, but he had to be fair to her. After all, he hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about all the hours he’d been working. He’d thought he was protecting her by not explaining his situation in more detail. He hadn’t wanted her to worry about him. Instead, he’d ended up causing her pain. Perhaps he’d been the one exhibiting a lack of empathy.
Lady Elizabeth, a dark-haired girl just a year younger than Cecilia, came around the corner. When she caught sight of Evangeline, her eyes sparkled with delight. “Evangeline, you’re here! When did you arrive?”
“Not an hour ago,” Evangeline said, embracing her friend.
“I assume that means Cecilia is here as well. How splendid!” Her lively eyes seemed to dance with excitement. “You must come with me to the kitchen. Catherine told me that Cook just pulled fresh gingerbread from the oven, and I’m going there straightaway to wheedle a piece from her.” One of the riotous black curls Elizabeth tried to tame with a sedate bun suddenly popped lose and fell into her eye. She swiftly tucked it behind one ear.
“Catherine’s here too?” Evangeline asked.
“She went to find her brother and tell him about the gingerbread. Hurry, before word spreads and it’s all gone.” She grabbed hold of Evangeline’s hand and started drawing her toward the back of the house.
“What’s all the commotion?” Horace said as he entered the hallway from the foyer.
“Good afternoon, Lord Tittle,” Lady Elizabeth said. “I just found out that Cook’s gingerbread is fresh from the oven, and I’m off to get a slice.”
Horace raised his eyebrows. “I hope you’ll leave enough for everyone else.”
“Don’t be silly. Even if we finish off this batch, your cook will make more so the others can have some. It’s one of my favorite things about coming here for Christmas. I plan to have mine with a dollop of fresh clotted cream on top.”
“I heartily endorse your plan,” Horace said. “That’s my favorite way to eat it too.”
Devin glanced toward the empty staircase. Was it too soon to follow Cecilia and try to explain what had happened? He took a step toward it.
“Come with me,” Horace said, throwing an arm around Devin’s shoulders. “I could use your company as well as your keen eyes. I need to assess the progress of the renovations to our stone mill.”
It took a moment for Horace’s words to register with Devin. “You mean you want me to go look at your stone mill with you? Right now?”
“Isn’t that what I said?” Horace looked at him more closely. “No time like the present, especially since you won’t be here for long.”
Devin glanced at the staircase. Perhaps he should give Cecilia a little more time to calm down. He heaved a sigh, still not quite sure if he should leave without talking to her. “You make an excellent point.”
“The horses are already saddled. Let’s go now.”
Cecilia’s ire usually didn’t last. Perhaps he should wait a bit longer, though, just to be certain it had cooled.
With a last glance at the staircase, Devin gave a sharp nod and headed for the door.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Devin and his brother were on horseback heading down the slightly muddy, slightly frozen path leading to the old stone mill. The puddles in the ruts of the road were filled with water that was icy around the edges. The faint dusting of snow from an hour ago was barely noticeable.
“Lady Evangeline seems happy to be here.”
Devin gave a noncommittal grunt.
 
; The horse hooves broke through the semi-frozen soil, churning up the scent of mud and earth along with a distant promise of spring.
“I haven’t seen Lady Cecilia yet. Have you had a chance to speak with her?”
Devin didn’t even glance at his brother. He just shrugged.
They rode along in silence. A few minutes later, the sound of the river that cut through their property became noticeable. They should arrive at the stone mill soon.
“You’re quiet. Distracted,” Horace finally said. “Is anything wrong?”
Devin took in his brother’s concerned expression. “You could say that. Father managed to ambush me in the library and describe, in detail, how unsuitable he found Cecilia and her family to be. I lost my temper and snapped at him. Unfortunately, Cecilia and her sister heard part of the exchange. I don’t recall the exact words I used, but somehow she got the impression that I was siding with Father against her.” His mount continued to eat up the road with its long strides as it took him farther and farther away from her. “She told me she wouldn’t marry me if I were the last man alive.”
Those words struck him anew, piercing him just as sharply as they had when she’d said them. He glanced away, unable to hold his brother’s gaze. He spotted the pale gray stone mill through the trees and gestured toward it.
Horace ignored the mill as he let out a low whistle. “That’s quite the problem you have. What do you plan to do about it? I assume you want her back… right?”
Right?
Trust Horace to hit on the precise thing Devin was most worried about with his first salvo. The thing he’d been hiding even from himself.
Devin stopped his horse next to the mill and dismounted. He loosely draped the reins over a low fence next to some winter-pale grass, and his horse immediately started tearing it from the ground.