Cecilia stifled a laugh as they turned into the hallway. “Honestly, I missed this.”
Dorothy raised a brow. “You missed Phillip being insufferable?”
Cecilia grinned. “Surprisingly, yes.”
“Well, brace yourself,” Phillip added, stepping ahead. “Because the best part of our visit is yet to come.”
Dorothy shook her head. “God help Abigail.”
“She’ll adore me,” he said.
“She’ll see right through you,” Dorothy countered.
Cecilia opened the door with a chuckle. “Well, we will find out. Now, come. Quietly, or else no more cakes for any of you.”
Cecilia looked back at them and smiled to herself. Despite the dark clouds their visit had brought, their presence was a balm. For the first time in weeks, she felt lighter. She felt like herself again. The trouble with Aunt Marianne still loomed in her heart, but for now, Cecilia felt steady again.
“Can I talk to you, Your Grace?”
The door to the study creaked slightly as Cecilia stepped inside. The hearth was unlit despite the chill in the air, and the curtains remained drawn, casting the room in a dusky amber hue. Valentine sat behind his desk, a hand resting on a closed ledger, his shoulders slightly hunched.
He looked up, slowly, at the sound of her voice.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. Almost too softly that it surprised her.
Cecilia stood in front of the desk, tracing the edge with her fingers. “How was your trip?” she asked.
Valentine’s eyebrows pulled together, and he shut his eyes briefly. “It was bearable,” he answered huskily.
She took a few steps closer and paused, assessing him quietly. The sharpness in his expression was duller today, and there was a faint pallor in his cheeks that hadn’t been there the last time she saw him.
“Your Grace, are you feeling all right?” she asked. “You look unwell.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” he answered and adjusted in his seat. “Did something happen?”
Cecilia tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing. “You sound like someone who is not perfectly fine.” She stepped closer now, eyes narrowing on him. “Are you unwell?”
“If I say I’m only tired, will that satisfy you?” he questioned.
“No,” she said simply. “But it will keep me from calling for the physician for now.”
He smiled faintly and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
Cecilia hovered by the edge of the desk. “Can I sit?”
He nodded once, and she lowered herself into the chair opposite him, smoothing her skirts as she settled in.
“Did something happen to Abigail?”
“No, Your Grace,” she answered. “My siblings came to visit a few days ago.”
That got his attention. His gaze lifted slowly to meet hers.
“Dorothy and Phillip,” she added. “Lucy didn’t come. They brought news of a sort.”
He arched a brow. “News?”
She hesitated, then gave a little sigh. “It’s about my aunt. Aunt Marianne. She’s been spreading rumors,” Cecilia said. “About the wedding. She claims Lucy was the one who rejected you, and that you married me out of spite or embarrassment.”
