Cecilia shook her head, her smile lingering. “You flatter too easily, My Lord.”
By his side, a small figure peeked out, a little girl, clearly uncomfortable in her frilled gown and far more interested in her shoes than the conversation.
“And this,” Norman said, placing a hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “This is Miss Abigail Price. My niece, and Valentine’s precious daughter.”
Cecilia smiled and knelt slightly. “Good day, Abigail. It’s lovely to finally meet you.”
The first thing Cecilia noticed was how strikingly beautiful the child was, not in the way of cherubs or dolls, but with a delicate, almost ethereal kind of grace. Though Valentine was undeniably a handsome man, Abigail looked nothing like him. Her features were finer, her eyes darker, more contemplative.
Without a word, Abigail turned on her heel and darted off, disappearing between two trimmed hedges bordering the rose garden. Cecilia blinked in surprise, unsure whether she had said or done something wrong.
Norman, on the other hand, merely chuckled, already stepping back. “That’s her being polite, I assure you,” he said with a grin. “Excuse me while I go retrieve my little shadow before she takes off for the stables or climbs a tree.”
He bowed lightly and followed after the child, leaving Cecilia half-amused, half-bewildered. She returned to her seat beside Emma, smoothing down her skirts with a thoughtful frown.
“He’s quite the charmer,” Emma murmured as she passed Cecilia a glass of cordial. “Even Dorothy and Phillip have taken a liking to him.”
“He is,” she answered with a nod. “Very unlike his brother.”
“Absolutely,” Emma agreed to Cecilia’s surprise. “Dorothy and Phillip have not been able to even go near His Grace, but they had no problem chatting with Lord Norman.”
Cecilia gave a small smile, watching as Norman disappeared in the direction Abigail had fled. But before she could settle too deeply into her thoughts, Emma nudged her gently.
“Right. Cecilia, we must talk.”
Cecilia turned to her with arched eyebrows. “About what?”
Emma hesitated, then lowered her voice. “Do you…do you know what happens on the wedding night? I mean properly. There are things you should expect, and it would be best if someone explained–”
“Oh no, Emma. I don’t need a deep conversation right now,” Cecilia cut in quickly, her smile faltering. “Please, Emma. I’ve cried enough for one day. Anything personal, and I’ll just start all over again.”
“A deep conversation?” Emma questioned. “Cecilia, that’s not what I meant. I’m talking about what happens between a man and a woman–”
“Excuse me.”
They both looked up at the same time to find Valentine standing by Cecilia’s side. “If we’re to avoid traveling by moonlight, we should begin the journey to the estate,” he said to Cecilia. “If we leave now, we can arrive by dinner time.”
Just then, Norman reappeared, carrying Abigail in his arms. The little girl had her face buried in his shoulder and her small arms looped tightly around his neck.
“Found her hiding behind the hedge,” Norman said cheerfully, approaching the group. “I suspect she was trying to avoid the adults.”
Emma chuckled softly while Cecilia smiled, her eyes briefly meeting Abigail’s, who still refused to look at her.
At that moment, Valentine’s gaze shifted to his brother. “You’re coming with us to the manor,” he told him. “You will ride with Abigail since she enjoys your company so much.”
Cecilia turned to him, startled. From what she knew about married life, typically, their doors wouldn’t be open to visitors until after the honeymoon.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, brother,” he said. “I couldn’t possibly interrupt your honeymoon.”
“We have business to discuss,” Valentine explained to him. “Business that cannot wait.”
“But it’s your honeymoon. I think it can wait,” he argued.
Cecilia looked from one brother to the other. There was something in Norman’s face, a faint crease of discomfort, as if he too found the timing inappropriate. Before things turned any more awkward, Cecilia stepped in, turning her attention to Norman.
“I’d be grateful for some good company, Lord Norman,” she said, smiling up at Norman. “A familiar face may make the adjustment easier.”
“A familiar face?” Valentine’s head snapped to her with a glare.
