Lady Cecilia Is Cordially Disinvited For Christmas Page 8

  Cecilia greeted her warmly and took hold of both her hands. Catherine’s returning squeeze was much stronger than she remembered. Cecilia peered at her more closely. She looked healthy, strong. That was a wonderful change given her past health problems. “How are you? I don’t see nearly enough of you. India is so far away.”

  “I know, but I’m afraid that might change.”

  “Afraid, dear Catherine? Is my company so tiresome?”

  “Don’t be foolish. Of course not. It’s just that we only just came from visiting my Grandfather at Kensington House, and he really doesn’t look well. I’m worried he won’t last the winter.”

  Cecilia immediately regretted her flippancy. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “If the worst happens, Father says he’ll give up his army commission. He’d have too much to do as the new Earl of Kensington.”

  “You’d return from India permanently? That’s a big change. Will you miss it?”

  “I’m not sure,” Catherine said. “Parts of it, yes, but not everything. If we’re in London, we’ll be closer to my brother. Now that he’s attending Oxford, I never see him. He left for university in August, and this trip is the first time we’ve been together since then.”

  Charles strode over and peered at his sister. “My ears were burning. What were you saying about me?”

  “How nice it is that you’ve moved to Oxford,” she lied. “There’s so much more room at the house.”

  One side of his mouth twitched up in a grin. “That’s exactly the opposite of what you say in your letters.”

  She discreetly elbowed him. Cecilia might not have noticed if Charles hadn’t exaggerated his movement while trying to avoid the nudge.

  “Stop. You’ve been doing that all week.” He rubbed his ribs.

  “You’re out of practice. Serves you right for abandoning us.”

  “Us?”

  Catherine’s whiskey-colored eyes flashed with irritation. “Me and Sarah. You were always Mother’s favorite. You’re the only one who can manage her.”

  “No one can manage our mother. She’s a force all her own.”

  “A tyrant, you mean.”

  “Maybe. I think it comes from being married to an army officer,” Charles said.

  The butler announced dinner.

  “May I escort you in?” Charles asked, offering his arm to Cecilia.

  As she took it, her eyes searched for Devin. She immediately found him near the entrance to the dining room with an ebullient Miss Glassford on his arm. Lady Vincent looked on, her face suffused with satisfaction.

  Cecilia’s stomach roiled.

  As she entered the dining room, she spotted her father helping Lady Judith into her chair before sitting next to her.

  Charles helped her to her seat opposite Devin and then claimed the one next to her.

  Dinner was uneventful. Charles proved to be a pleasant companion. As long as she kept her gaze averted from Miss Glassford’s gloating face, she could almost enjoy the meal.

  Almost.

  The only time Cecilia caught Devin’s eye, she found his expression unreadable.

  Irritating man. Maybe they should work out some sort of signaling system. A tug of the ear could mean “we need to talk,” and scratch of the nose could mean, “I miss you.”

  He scratched his nose.

  Cecilia’s heart gave a thump.

  Foolish heart.

  As the last plates were cleared away, Father cleared his throat. “If you’ll give me your attention for a moment, I have some news to share with you,” he said as he rose to his feet.

  Lady Vincent’s eyes went wide. “What’s this about?” She glanced from Devin to Cecilia, trying to read their expressions. Unfortunately, Cecilia was as surprised as she was, and it probably showed.

  “Nothing that will cause you trouble, I assure you,” Father said. “I’m sure you’re aware of Lady Babbage’s lingering health issues. Her illness has been a trial for her. She was disappointed to miss spending Christmas here— especially given that this will probably be our last Christmas with you.”

  “Babbage, what on earth are you talking about?” Lady Vincent asked. “Don’t tell me you don’t plan to return. Are you bothered by our hospitality this year? Surely you aren’t offended you aren’t in your usual room.”

  “No, no. You’ve always been a most gracious hostess. Thank you for adapting to our changing plans this year.” He rubbed his chin. “It has more to do with the environment.”

  “Environment! Has someone made you feel unwelcome?” She glanced at her husband.

  Father’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you referring to that scurrilous rumor about a family curse?” He let out a snort. “Although I find the story to be highly uncharitable, it comes as no great surprise to me that someone would stoop so low as to manufacture just such a tale. After all, there are always people who want to blame the victim for his own bad luck. Perhaps it’s because they don’t want to imagine that they, too, could have similar ill fortune.”

  A red-faced Lord Vincent tugged to loosen the collar of his shirt. “What are you on about, Babbage?”

  Father ignored him. “That’s not what will keep me away. My concern is for Lady Babbage. Due to her ill health, I’ve decided to move away from the damp and cold of England and relocate my family to the Mediterranean coast. I plan to divest myself of my properties here, turn the estate over to my nephew and heir, and move my wife and daughters to Nice.”

  “What?” Devin’s gaze flew to Cecilia’s, but she could only stare back at him wide-eyed as she shook her head in shock and denial.

  What was her father thinking? “Papa, what are you saying? Leave England? That’s absurd.”

  “You’ve seen your mother. How can I not? The doctor says she needs sunshine and fresh air. You know how much she loved our trip to the Mediterranean. The warmer climate and the sea air will be perfect for her.”

  “When?” Cecilia struggled to force out that single, essential word, and it erupted more loudly than she’d intended.

  Father met her gaze. “By next fall. It will take some time to make all the necessary arrangements, but I refuse to subject your mother to another winter in England.” His gaze lingered on Devin. “I realize it will be an adjustment for you and your sister, but you’re both still young. You’ll adapt.”

  15

  When Lady Vincent led the ladies out of the dining room after dinner, Cecilia followed her in a daze.

  What could her father be thinking with his plan to take them away from everything they’d ever known? She’d find nothing familiar to her once they moved to Nice. Not the language. Not the food. Not the people.

  But worst of all, there’d be no Devin.

  At the exit, she turned back, hoping to catch Devin’s eye. She found him watching her from his seat at the dining table. Cecilia paused, but Miss Glassford was on her heels, crowding her forward.

  As she entered the main salon, she discovered that the servants had lighted all the candles on the tree. Soon the children would return from their own supper, but for now the adults had the room to themselves.

  Lady Vincent joined Cecilia as she stared glumly at the festive tree.

  “Your father’s news came as quite a shock,” Lady Vincent said, her expression pensive. “I’m not quite sure what to think about it. How did you manage to keep his plans a secret?”

  “I’m a surprised as you are, Lady Vincent.”

  The older woman shook her head in bemusement. “What on earth will you do with yourself in Nice? I know so little about that part of the world.”

  “I recall watching fishing boats leave the dock in the morning, but not much else. If Father wants us to live there, I’m sure it’s lovely.”

  “Hmm. I doubt you’ll fish.”

  “Of course not. I imagine I’ll continue my work with widows and orphans. I’m sure one can find people in need in every country in the world.”

  “Widows and orphans?” Lady Vincent�
�s mouth tightened into a line. “Good heavens, Cecilia. I’d think caring for your invalid mother would be more than enough for you.”

  Cecilia frowned. “It was my mother who first introduced me to the aid society and encouraged me to participate.”

  The gentlemen began returning to the drawing room to join the ladies. Devin’s gaze met Cecilia’s, and he immediately joined her. “Cecilia. I can hardly believe your father’s announcement. You appeared to be as shocked as I was.” As he touched her arm, his mother’s eyes locked onto the movement.

  Cecilia closed her eyes briefly at his touch. “He never mentioned anything about his plans.” She stared at her father over Devin’s shoulder. “I’ve overheard him and Mother discussing the winters here. They’ve talked about moving someplace warmer, but I assumed that they’d remain in England.” She shook her head in despair. “I don’t know what to say. Perhaps he’s right, though. Perhaps relocating is for the best. We can all start over.”

  “Not you. You can’t possibly go with them.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Devin,” Lady Vincent said. “Her parents can’t simply abandon her.” She patted Cecilia’s arm as though consoling her— or perhaps trying to keep her from speaking.

  Miss Glassford chose that moment to join their group.

  Lady Vincent glanced at her before continuing. “Who would look out for dear Cecilia? What if something were to happen to her?” She froze, and her eyes widened. “Good heavens. What about all those reckless trips she’s been making all over the county?”

  Cecilia’s jaw dropped, and she quickly snapped it shut. “Visiting widows and orphans? I’d hardly characterize my trips as reckless, Lady Vincent.”

  “Don’t be naive. I shudder to imagine the kind of trouble you could get into by traveling to those horrible neighborhoods. It will be worse once you’re in Nice. You don’t even speak their language.” She ignored Cecilia and addressed Devin instead, as though she weren’t there. “The girl needs her parents around. That father of hers needs to take a firm hand and put an end to her reckless tendencies.”

  Cecilia hadn’t thought she could be rendered speechless— until now. She found herself gaping at Lady Vincent in a state of complete stupefaction.

  She became vaguely aware of the children now streaming into the room, Evangeline among them. Most headed directly for the tree, but Evangeline came over and touched Cecilia’s arm. She clearly picked up on some of the tension, because she sidled close to Cecilia and glowered at Lady Vincent.

  “Lady Vincent, surely your worries are unwarranted,” Miss Glassford said, her eyes widening. “I can’t imagine someone as kind and considerate as Lady Cecilia carelessly putting herself at risk.”

  Cecilia finally found her voice. “I assure you, I always have my coachman and at least one other footman with me. My mother encourages me in this endeavor. You have nothing to worry about.”

  Miss Glassford’s wide-eyed stare turned chilly. “Only one footman? I’d never be so cavalier regarding my safety. What if you were set upon by thieves? You could be killed, or worse.” She gasped as she shook her head sternly. “I can’t imagine being so selfish as to place myself in jeopardy and terrify my family every time I left the house.”

  Lady Vincent beamed approvingly at Miss Glassford.

  Cecilia’s back stiffened. “Selfish? That’s a strange word for you to choose. Have you ever considered that selfishness comes from turning one’s back on those in need and instead clinging to one’s own comforts? That placing some vague, imagined threats above the tangible needs of others is a sure sign of your uncharitable disposition?” She glared at Miss Glassford. “In short, have you ever considered that you’re the one who is selfish? For myself, I can assure you that I have never carelessly endangered either myself or my servants, nor will I ever.”

  “Well said,” Evangeline commented. “Mother would be proud of you.”

  Miss Glassford’s eyes flashed. “Children should be seen and not heard.”

  Cecilia grabbed Evangeline by the elbow and gave a warning squeeze before she could lose her temper and snap at the presumptuous woman.

  “How dare you call me selfish?” Miss Glassford said, glaring at Cecilia. “I don’t have a selfish bone in my body.”

  Cecilia coughed to hide her laugh, then covered her mouth with her hand so no one could see her grin. “I believe you and I have a different definition of the word ‘selfish.’”

  Devin glanced sharply at her. Trust him to know when she was struggling to behave properly. She had the tendency to giggle at highly stressful and inappropriate moments.

  Like this one.

  “Lady Cecilia has a kind and generous heart,” Devin said. “I happen to admire her greatly for it.”

  She glanced at him in surprise as her grin slipped from her lips. Was he siding with her against his mother?

  Lady Vincent’s face flushed a troubling shade of red.

  Evangeline grabbed hold of Cecilia’s hand and held tight. “This should be interesting,” she murmured into Cecilia’s ear.

  Lady Vincent’s mouth thinned to a straight white line, and her eyes blazed with anger. “Of course, you would. You’ve always had a soft spot for that girl.”

  So, now I’m “that girl?”

  She glared at Cecilia. “You’re too much like your mother. Both of you have always been a touch too readily swayed by stories of ill fortune, especially when they’re accompanied by an outstretched hand.” Her gaze flashed toward Cecilia’s father and swept over him with disdain. “Is it any wonder you’re so quick to excuse the bad judgement of a weak-willed man?”

  Before she could think better of it, Cecilia surged forward and found herself inches from Lady Vincent’s face. “Excuse me, Lady Vincent, but I think I must have misheard you. I did, didn’t I? Because you couldn’t possibly have been speaking ill of a guest in your home, could you? You couldn’t have spoken disrespectfully of someone I hold dear.”

  Lady Vincent lifted her chin to look down her nose. “Lady Cecilia, you should carefully consider your words right now. You don’t want to say something you’ll regret.”

  “Should I? Just as you considered your words?”

  Devin placed his palm on her back, just above her waist. She tensed. Was he trying to lend her strength or quell her voice?

  He looked directly at his mother and said, “I’m certain she didn’t mean to offend you. You didn’t, did you, Mother?”

  He was! Devin was siding with her!

  Lady Vincent’s jaw tensed. She glared at Devin, staring into eyes that were so very much like hers at the moment. Both were stubborn and angry. The pair would batter themselves to pieces against one another.

  No one would win.

  Everyone here would lose.

  Cecilia needed to do something. But what?

  “Tomorrow is Christmas,” she said as she inched toward Devin and touched his hand where it was now safely hidden in the folds of her gown. “Lady Vincent, you’ve invited all of us into your beautiful home, fed us, feted us, allowed us to join you in your celebration. I don’t want anything to ruin this joyous gathering. I’m wondering if it might be best to simply start this conversation over again and pretend that the last two minutes never happened. Do you think that could work?”

  Cecilia grazed her fingertips against the inside of Devin’s wrist. Despite the lightness of her touch— or perhaps because of it— he glanced at her and gazed into her eyes. She tried to show him how much she appreciated his support. How much it mattered to her that he’d take her side. How important this was to her. And also, how much she needed him to relent. To let his mother save face.

  His nod was barely perceptible, but it was enough.

  When he glanced back at his mother, some of the challenge was gone from his eyes. Instead, they seemed to hold an olive branch of peace.

  Lady Vincent’s neck bent ever so slightly. “In this instance, you’re right. But don’t imagine that I’ve forgotten. Devin, you and I need t
o discuss this later.”

  16

  Devin’s frustration with his mother roiled within him. Backing down right now was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done.

  He flipped his hand over and firmly took hold of Cecilia’s.

  She grounded him. Kept him centered. Reminded him of what was truly important.

  Her.

  It was time. Past time.

  Devin turned to face her.

  “Cecilia Paring,” he said in a strong, clear voice that carried to every corner of the drawing room. “I’ve known you all your life. You’ve been a part of my world for as long as I can remember. Even as a boy, I was fascinated by you. Your joy, your kind heart, your cleverness— you always managed to enchant me. My heart never stood a chance. Even when I tried to shut you out for a time so I could immerse myself in my work, your shining example of kindness and compassion still guided me. Everything I have done to speed my way down the path to becoming a barrister, I’ve done with you in mind.”

  Had Cecilia stopped breathing? She stood statue still, staring at him in apparent shock.

  He hoped this wasn’t an enormous mistake, but now that he’d started, he had no other choice but to forge ahead.

  “It took me a while to realize that you cared for me too, but you left so many clues that I finally figured it out. You pushed me into the pond. You pinned flowers to my shirt hem while I napped in the old apple tree. You trained your hunting falcon to drop dead field mice on my head.” He grinned, and Lord Babbage chuckled. “Most people might have found those to be odd ways of showing that you cared for me, but they revealed how you felt— and how closely you paid attention. You pushed me in the pond because you knew I wanted to swim and had been forbidden to do so. You pinned the flowers to my shirttail because I admired the crown of flowers you’d braided for yourself. At the time, I’d said that I’d look like an ass in them— even though I wanted one for myself.”