Lady Cecilia Is Cordially Disinvited For Christmas Page 7

  At the time, Cecilia had only heard that advice as a condemnation of her father and his carelessness with money. Mother would shake her head and tut-tut whenever he lost to yet another scheme, but she never became angry with him. She said he’d always been a hopeful romantic who believed in the power of luck. That made him the perfect target for those who wanted to trick him.

  Now, Cecilia could see her mother’s advice as something more. Her mother told her she’d agonized over the role of women in this country, and that had heavily influenced her choice in a husband. She’d known she would have no power over her own life other than what her husband would grant her, so finding a man who wouldn’t abuse his control and would be a good provider was essential.

  As was love.

  Cecilia had come to realize that she was different from most women she knew. The needs of her heart, nay, her soul, drove her. She needed a man she could respect. Trust. Adore. Someone she could admire.

  Plus, she needed him to feel the same way about her.

  She’d thought she’d found that man in Devin, but then he’d fallen short. He’d shown a distinct lack of respect for her when he’d chosen to stop writing to her. She couldn’t be with a man who didn’t value her, because his attitude would infect her, and she’d end up not valuing herself either.

  Her father respected her mother. He showed it in every word her uttered. Every action he took. He might have occasionally been careless with his finances and his trust, but she didn’t think her mother would change anything about him. Besides, that didn’t happen to be her mother’s decision to make.

  Who he was was up to him.

  Over time, Father had become more cautious. Each financial setback was also a hard-earned lesson. He now saw treachery everywhere. He kept searching for a way out of their current difficult situation, but he no longer blindly trusted those who approached him with their schemes. Now he investigated them— as he should have all along. How well had their previous dealings performed? What did previous investors say of them? Were there any mysterious gaps in their history that might hide substantial monetary losses?

  He’d managed to avoid a couple of schemes that way. With his most recent investment, he’d instead chosen to gamble everything on a single fast ship filled with sugar. If everything had gone according to plan, the gamble would have paid off handsomely. But it hadn’t. The ship had taken on water, and the sugar had been destroyed.

  That was when he’d started casting about for some new scheme to invest in. Something bold, he’d said. Something that he could control rather than relying on someone else.

  Now, as Cecilia arrived at her room, she found it empty. She didn’t even bother to undress, but simply threw herself on the small bed and pulled a thin blanket over herself.

  What seemingly minor fault would be Devin’s eventual undoing? Would it be his pride? His focus on work to the exclusion of all else? His desire to please his parents?

  She couldn’t truly call any of those things faults on their own. They didn’t become faults until they twisted his decisions and caused him to go down the wrong path or make poor choices.

  Like not corresponding with her.

  The door opened and Evangeline flounced in. She slammed it shut and then threw herself onto the bed next to Cecilia.

  Cecilia sighed.

  “Don’t pretend you were sleeping,” Evangeline groused.

  “I’m too busy feeling sorry for myself to sleep. Distract me. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  Evangeline curled on her side to face Cecilia, snuggling under the blanket so it covered them both. A cold breeze assailed Cecilia’s spine, and she pulled some of the coverlet back and tucked it beneath her.

  “Elizabeth and I have been spying. You know how I love to spy.”

  “Have you learned anything interesting?”

  “Elizabeth already mentioned the thing about Mr. Glassford.” She wrinkled her nose. “He’s a horrid man.”

  “I think you were predisposed to dislike him since he was given our room.”

  “But I was right. He was quite dreadful to that servant. I’m glad Devin will deal with him.”

  “So am I.” Cecilia sighed. “I trust him with things like that. He has integrity. He watches over what’s his. But does he ever really share? Does he open his heart and bare his soul to let anyone else in?”

  Evangeline brushed Cecilia’s cheek with the back of her hand. “The way you do? You all but wear your heart on your sleeve. Ask anyone. Say, ‘What does Cecilia care about?’ and they’ll reply, ‘Just ask. She’ll tell you.’ You, dear sister, are no great mystery.”

  “Devin’s the opposite. He keeps everything to himself. That’s a good trait in a barrister, but not so good in a husband. Do you ever think he’ll ever be truly open with me?”

  Evangeline pulled her head back and looked into Cecilia’s eyes. “He hasn’t already?”

  Cecilia closed her eyes. “I don’t know. In some areas, yes, in others, no. I get the sense that he keeps things from me. Secrets.” Some essential parts of himself, she didn’t add.

  “That isn’t good. Not for you. I know some people like to bury their heads under the covers and pretend everything is fine even as the house is burning down around them, but that isn’t you. That would never be you.”

  Evangeline was right, as usual.

  12

  The moment Cecilia entered the drawing room, she spotted Devin deep in conversation with Miss Glassford.

  Again.

  The petite woman cast him a tremulous smile, and he patted her hand gently and then let it go.

  What was that?

  The sharp stab of jealousy took her by surprise. She’d thought she and Devin were on their way to mending things between them, but little Miss Glassford made her doubt herself.

  Devin glanced up and saw her watching him. Surprise flickered across his face and— was that dismay? It was gone so quickly she wasn’t sure she’d seen it.

  He said something to Miss Glassford as he moved his foot away from her— perhaps taking his leave? The woman glanced at Cecilia and then placed a hand on Devin’s forearm as though holding him in place.

  A rather possessive-looking hand.

  Cecilia didn’t like that hand on Devin’s arm.

  He moved his back foot closer to Miss Glassford once again and then patted her hand again as he said something to her. His expression looked regretful.

  Regretful? Was he regretting the need to leave Miss Glassford’s side and join her? Truly?

  As he turned and strode toward Cecilia, she glanced at Miss Glassford and saw the woman was staring daggers at her.

  Did she believe she had some claim on him?

  Too many questions. Too many doubts.

  Devin gave her a smile that normally would have warmed her heart. It still would have, even now, if not for that possessive expression on Miss Glassford’s face.

  “Miss Glassford. She seems unhappy with you.”

  Devin’s jaw tightened. “It’s nothing. Just a misunderstanding.”

  She waited for more, but he didn’t continue. “What misunderstanding is that?” she prompted.

  He shrugged. “She was given some bad information. It’s nothing. My mother was meddling, and I clarified things. Can you introduce me to that little scamp you want me to protect?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. The man was intentionally changing the subject. She decided to let him. “Do you see any children lurking somewhere? Did I somehow miss them?”

  Devin shook his head. “My mistake. I doubt Mother would look kindly upon any child present right now.” He gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Dinner is for adults only.”

  Horace joined them. “How nice to see you, Lady Cecilia. I hope you’re having a pleasant stay.”

  She smiled and nodded. “It’s wonderful to be here, as usual.”

  Horace turned his attention to his brother. “Were you here when Mother was trimming the tree?” Horace’s question held an
intensity that surprised Cecilia.

  Devin seemed only slight taken aback. “Why do you ask?” The man excelled at not revealing anything. Even with his own brother, he kept his counsel.

  “She’s angry about something that took place then. She claims Lady Marchcomb’s nanny is to blame.”

  A chill swept down Cecilia’s spine. Was his mother trying to have the nanny sacked because of some chocolatey handprints?

  Devin appeared completely unfazed.

  She stepped closer to him. “How can you remain so unconcerned?”

  He shrugged. “You know how Mother can be. She sometimes takes offense at the most trivial thing.”

  “She wouldn’t insist that Lady Marchcomb dismiss her nanny, would she?” Cecilia asked, alarmed. “Surely she wouldn’t be so callous.”

  “I’m certain we can soothe her ruffled feathers,” Horace said.

  Cecilia didn’t think she believed him.

  By the look of him, she didn’t think Horace believed himself either.

  13

  A moment later, Lady Vincent swept into the room, her face flushed with anger and her lips pressed together in a straight white line.

  Devin knew that look. It boded no good for anyone.

  “Best to avoid her, Cecilia,” Devin said under his breath. The last thing he needed was for her to exacerbate the situation. Judging by the state his mother was in, just the sight of them together could do it.

  He stepped away from Cecilia, ignoring her hurt expression. She looked as though he’d slapped her, but why? Surely she understood what they needed to do to help the little Marchcomb boy, didn’t she?

  Devin exchanged a look with Horace, and as a pair they moved to intercept his mother.

  “Mother, don’t you look lovely in that emerald-green velvet gown?” Devin said. “It’s perfect on you. Father will be quite proud to have you preside over his table this evening.”

  She narrowed her eyes as though searching for the lie she feared she’d find there, but apparently, she couldn’t find any sign of dissembling. “Thank you, Devin. You always seem to know exactly what to say. Why is that?”

  “Because I’m your son, and I know you so very well.”

  Which was apparently the right reply. Her shoulders inched down as she relaxed slightly.

  Then she caught sight of Cecilia watching them. Her shoulders immediately tensed again. “Lady Cecilia, come here,” she commanded.

  Cecilia immediately approached them. He’d have loved to have been able to shoo her away, but it was too late for that now. He just hoped she’d know well enough to keep her tongue under control and not let it raise his mother’s ire to a peak once again.

  “You were there when that miscreant wiped his filthy hands on my gown. He meant to ruin it. The evil gleam in his eyes gave him away. I need you to tell Lady Marchcomb what he did. She refuses to believe me.”

  “Not believe you?” Cecilia asked in mock disbelief. “How could that be?”

  Devin arched one eyebrow at her so that his mother couldn’t see. Did Cecilia really intend to goad her right now? This could end badly.

  Cecilia’s eyes seemed to flicker with comprehension. “Was Lady Judith’s maid able to repair the damage?”

  “Fortunately, yes.” His mother set her mouth in a grim line.

  “Well then, I’m glad to hear there was no lasting damage.”

  “No lasting damage? You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m now in the debt of Lady Judith.”

  “Surely there’s no great debt,” Devin said. “It was only a dress.”

  “You clearly don’t understand.” She shot Cecilia a disparaging glance, but she was looking down and didn’t notice. “The Glassfords are already unhappy with us because Lord Babbage changed his plans and decided to attend at the last minute. Then Lady Cecilia barged into his bedroom, assuming it was hers and making him feel like a usurper.”

  Cecilia glance up sharply at this, her jaw set. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m needed elsewhere.” She whirled, searched around for a destination, and then hurried off toward her father.

  “Good riddance,” his mother said under her breath. “Really, Devin, was it absolutely necessary for you to emphasize your lifelong acquaintance with Cecilia while you were playing whist with Mr. Glassford’s family? Surely you knew they were disappointed to find her here. Miss Glassford in particular. You’ve put me in a difficult position. In fact, I’ll need you to escort Miss Glassford to dinner tonight. Her mother particularly asked, and after the assistance she provided, I can’t refuse her.”

  Devin glanced at Cecilia, deep in conversation with her father. A muscle tightened in his jaw. “Don’t blame me if your machinations go awry. I’m escorting Lady Cecilia to dinner. I’m not a pawn for you to move about on a chess board. Your dealings with the Glassfords are not my concern.”

  His mother’s mouth pinched into a frown. “You don’t need to remind me of that. You’ve never been cooperative. You were a stubborn and unreasonable child, and you’ve grown into a stubborn and unreasonable man. I don’t know why your father doesn’t wash his hands of you. If you’re so unwilling to bend to the will of your family, perhaps it’s time for you to stand on your own two feet.”

  Devin stared at her, trying to understand how his mother had gone from worrying about some chocolate handprints on her gown to— what? Disinheriting him? Cutting him off? Casting him out of the family?

  Horace’s eyes widened. “Mother, what are you saying? Don’t be rash.”

  “Rash? You think I’m the one being rash?” The glare she shot at Devin was full of anger and accusation. “What about him? He’s on the brink of a decision that will affect the rest of his life, and he’s arguing about whom he’ll escort to dinner. Apparently, he wants to choose the path that will only bring him heartache and chaos.” She pulled her shoulders back. “I won’t stand for it.”

  She glared at Cecilia across the room before turning her attention back to Devin. She narrowed her eyes and took a step closer to him. “Escort Miss Glassford to dinner. If you can’t do this small thing for me, then your father and I are done with you. Don’t think he won’t back me on this, because he will.”

  She stared at him a beat longer to take in the effect of her words. Apparently, she was satisfied.

  She turned her back on him and stalked away.

  Horace’s pale face turned toward Devin. “What the hell just happened?”

  “You were here. Mother just gave me an ultimatum. One with teeth.” He shook his head. “I suppose one good thing came out of it.”

  Horace cocked an eyebrow.

  Devin met his eyes. “I think Mother has completely forgotten about the Marchcomb boy.”

  14

  Cecilia watched as Lady Vincent’s anger intensified while talking to her sons. At the same time, Devin’s own expression became more and more impenetrable.

  That was never a good sign. Devin tended to react to conflict by turning inward and hiding his emotions.

  Lady Vincent turned her glare on Cecilia, and the loathing in the woman’s eyes cut her to the bone. Her father apparently noticed, because he wrapped a protective arm around her.

  Devin glanced toward them, and he must have seen her stricken expression. His jaw tightened. She tried her best to read his inscrutable face. Was that regret she saw? Disappointment?

  Her heart plummeted. Things were going wrong. Dreadfully wrong.

  The Glassford family entered the drawing room. Miss Glassford looked small and lovely in a gown the color of pale moss. As Lady Vincent swept toward them, her face underwent an extreme emotional transformation, and she greeted them warmly.

  It struck her that Miss Glassford looked like a paler, smaller version of Lady Vincent. From the back, they could be mistaken for mother and daughter. Perhaps that accounted for their natural affinity.

  She caught Devin’s eye and indicated that he should come speak with her, but he waved her away and returned to watching his mo
ther.

  That stung. Didn’t he know how curious she was?

  A moment later, Lady Vincent made a similar summons. This time, he complied.

  Perhaps he’d been anticipating the summons and hadn’t wanted to disappoint her given how angry she’d been with him only moments ago.

  The thought soothed her.

  “Thanks again for warning me about that rumor of a curse you overheard,” her father said. “It kept me from being caught unaware. Lord Marchcomb made a verbal jab about it a few minutes ago and I set him straight, but I can’t keep doing that one person at a time. Rumors travel faster than the truth, especially when the truth is much less interesting.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I have a plan.” Her father touched the side of his nose. “Just wait and see.”

  Devin didn’t approach her until it was nearly time for everyone to enter the dining room. Perhaps now they could speak as he escorted her in.

  “Cecilia, I’m sorry, but Mother wants me to escort Miss Glassford to dinner. She was quite adamant. If I want to be of any help with the Marchcomb situation, I need to do as she asks.”

  Of course Lady Vincent was adamant. The woman was always adamant. Cecilia let out a sigh. “Is that why you argued?”

  “Were we that obvious?”

  “Not to everyone. At least, you weren’t. Your mother isn’t as good at disguising her feelings as you are. Who will my escort be?”

  “Charles Williams. The Williams family arrived this afternoon.”

  “Catherine is here?”

  Devin smiled at her obvious delight. “His sister? Yes. The entire family arrived from Kensington House a short time ago. Everyone except their grandfather, Lord Kensington, that is. Apparently, he isn’t well. The rest of the family should be down at any moment.”

  Cecilia glanced at the drawing room’s entrance just as Catherine’s parents appeared in the doorway. Catherine and her brother trailed behind them. Cecilia managed to catch Catherine’s eye, and her friend excused herself from her family and hurried over.