“Is it?” he asked. “I hadn’t noticed.”
His fingers quickly found her waist first, deft and purposeful, and Cecilia jerked with a startled squeal.
“Valentine!” she gasped, wriggling as he tickled her.
But he didn’t relent. His other hand joined the first, and he tickled her sides mercilessly, sending her into a helpless fit of laughter.
“Stop!” she giggled, breath catching. “We will wake the whole house!”
“That’s fine by me,” he said, chuckling as he tipped her over and continued his mischief. “I rather like hearing my name like that. No one has ever giggled my name before.”
“Because you’re absolutely horrible!” she managed, breathless, trying to roll away, but he followed easily, pinning her lightly back into the pillows with far too much amusement in his eyes.
“I’m delightful,” he countered. “Admit it. Say it. Say I’m delightful and I’ll stop.”
She could barely breathe, half-laughing, half-wriggling, her cheeks flushed pink from mirth. “You’re insufferable!”
“That’s not what I asked for.”
“Delightfully insufferable, does that count?”
He gave a mock-considering hum and finally relented, letting his hands fall away, though his grin remained as smug as ever. Cecilia lay there, panting, still giggling under her breath.
“I think...” she said, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, “You were right. You should probably go to your room.”
“I’m not sure I heard you correctly. Did you say you wanted a second round?” He settled beside her again, leaning on one elbow as he looked down at her.
“No!” she said quickly, giggling just thinking about it. “I take it back, you can stay.” She glanced sideways at him, still flushed, still catching her breath, and found herself feeling light-hearted.
Valentine looked at her then, really looked at her, and it caused Cecilia’s smile to fade into something softer, more reverent. Then he leaned in, slow and sure, giving her the space to turn away if she wished. But she didn’t.
His lips brushed hers once, tender, unhurried, and then again, fuller this time, as though he’d found something he hadn’t known he was searching for and now couldn’t bear to let go.Cecilia’s breath caught as her hand slid up his arm, resting on his shoulder, anchoring herself to him in the stillness.
When he pulled back, their foreheads rested together, and for a long moment, neither of them said a word. Then, without breaking the fragile quiet, Valentine eased onto his back and drew her close, curling an arm around her waist. She followed without hesitation, resting her cheek against his chest as he tucked her securely into his side.
His fingers threaded gently through her hair, stroking with a care that made her heart ache in the most exquisite way. The steady beat of his heart echoed beneath her ear, strong, warm, grounding.
She closed her eyes, as a sigh softened on her lips.
It felt like the peace she was looking for.
For the first time in a while, her thoughts didn’t spiral. She didn’t wonder what people were saying or worry about what she couldn’t fix. She didn’t try to make sense of the past or map out a plan for tomorrow. She simply existed in his arms.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“…and so Rosamond was quite determined that the jar would look marvelous on the mantelpiece,” Cecilia said the moment Valentine got to the door of Abigail’s room.
“Can I join you both?” he asked.
Somehow, despite the tidy stack of correspondence demanding his attention, Valentine had found himself wholly incapable of focusing on anything in his study. He had sat there for hours, his pen in hand, seal untouched, the scent of ink sharp in the air, and achieved nothing.
It wasn’t that the work was difficult. It just felt…irrelevant.
The only thing tugging at his mind, stubbornly and insistently, was the vague, irrational desire to stop being alone in that cavernous room. A room in which he would typically find solace. He wanted, not needed, not exactly, but wanted to be with Cecilia and Abigail.
It was strange. Very strange. He had spent years mastering solitude. Now it felt a little like penance.
So when the sun dipped low and he could, with clear conscience, rise from his desk and call the day complete, he didn’t pause to reflect. He simply stood, rolled his shoulders once, and went in search of them.
