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Cecilia hesitated for a breath. “Emma is our eldest sister,” she explained. “The one who knew what to say, what to do. How to do things. We all looked to her after our mama passed away. When she got married…” Cecilia trailed off, then gave a small shrug. “I realized how much she had carried for the family without ever making it seem heavy. She did so much, and her absence was felt.”

Norman’s brow creased slightly, watching her with more attention now. “So, what happened when she left and you were left with your father and your siblings?”

Cecilia set her fork down. “Well, I couldn’t depend on her anymore. For one, she was miles away, and also, it would have been utterly unfair to do so.” Her eyes flicked to her plate, and then up again. “So, I learned. I bargained. I figured things out.”

Cecilia smiled and shook her head. “I had to do a lot of things I never imagined I’d be doing. Making decisions, settling accounts, and smoothing over tensions in the household.

Norman smiled too. “You had to grow up very quickly.”

“I guess.”

“So, now that you and Emma are not there anymore, who has taken that mantle?”

She paused, her fork idly tracing a line through the sauce on her plate. “My younger sister, Dorothy. It has to be her. There is no one else. But I know she will do a good job. She is like Emma in many ways. I was always quite odd.”

“I don’t think you’re odd, Your Grace,” Norman said to her.

Cecilia smiled in response. “Thank you,” she murmured, glancing down for a heartbeat before turning her head toward the end of the table, only to find Valentine watching her.

Not glancing. Not idly looking her way. Watching.

His gaze was still, deliberate. Too focused for politeness, too intense to call it disapproval. It wasn’t cold, nor entirely warm, but it held her the moment she realized that he was watching her, like hands resting lightly at her throat, unthreatening yet inescapable. Her breath caught, startled by the sharp intimacy of it.

There was something in his expression. Some question he wasn’t asking aloud, something unspeakably private, nestled in the set of his mouth and the furrow just between his brows. As thoughhe was working something out that even he didn’t quite trust himself to understand.

Still, knowing that she had caught him staring, he didn’t look away.

It was Cecilia who blinked first, who dropped her gaze because the back of her neck was prickling with heat. Her fingers found her glass, unthinking, too aware of their slight tremble.

Did I say something wrong again?

The question beat at the inside of her chest like a moth against a window. She couldn’t look at Valentine. Not yet. So she turned instead to Norman, sitting beside him.

“Were you always so inquisitive, Lord Norman?” she asked lightly. “Or is that something you developed to distinguish yourself from your brother?”

He gave a startled laugh. “Heavens, no. I was dreadful as a child.”

Cecilia’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Norman grinned. “I was always misbehaving. Valentine was the better-behaved son. But he was quite competitive. I could never really beat him at anything.”

“I can imagine that.” She smiled, still avoiding Valentine’s eyes.

“I reminded him today how similar he is to our father,” he continued. “If he hasn’t told you, our mother passed away when we were very young, and our father never remarried. We had governesses taking care of us, but our father raised us. He gave us everything we could ever possibly want.”

Valentine set his fork and knife down too loudly. “Let’s not talk about that, Norman. Talk about anything else.”

“Why not? I would love to hear this,” Cecilia said, finally summoning the courage to look at him again. “Was your papa strict like Valentine? Or was he like my papa? Strict when he had to be, but mostly warm?”

“We are not talking about this, Duchess.”

“Why not?” she questioned, feeling her eyebrows instantly furrow.

Valentine turned his gaze on her, sharp, cold, like frost creeping over glass. “Because it’s not your concern.”

Cecilia blinked, stunned by the bluntness of it. “Not my concern?” she echoed, her voice rising a fraction. “I am Duchess, am I not? Part of the family now, or is that only in name?”

He inhaled slowly and shut his eyes. “I do not want to sit here and hear about this. You can go back to talking about yourself and your family.”