Chapter 15
Cecilia felt almost nauseous with fatigue and sadness as she watched Mr. Nash’s happy expression fade into confusion and disbelief. He hadn’t known she was married, that much was evident. He’d been an ardent suitor, but had dutifully gone to travel the Continent because his parents thought him too young to pursue a wife.
He must have heard she’d gone into mourning and just assumed he had plenty of time to return and pick up where he had left off courting her.
And there was Michael, one hand on his cane, the other tucked behind his back, his posture proud with military bearing, his expression cool and sober, his very maturity making Mr. Nash look like an exuberant boy. If Michael cracked a smile, maybe this would be easier on the young man—or maybe worse, she suddenly realized. Michael’s very look seemed challenging, as if Mr. Nash could compete for Cecilia’s hand, and Michael would have to accept the challenge.
None of that was true. Mr. Nash was a distant memory of her youth, when young men pursued her, and she was half-flattered, half-exasperated. Michael now seemed all that was dangerous and threatening, not to her person but to her ability to remain aloof, to be herself. He was drawing her in, luring her to risk everything for the chance to be ... intimate with him.
“Forgive me, my lady,” Mr. Nash now said stiffly. He gave a cool nod to Michael. “I ask the same if I have offended you, Lord Blackthorne. I did not know that Lady Blackthorne had married.”
“Understandable,” Michael said. “I was in India when the marriage was performed there.”
Cecilia wanted to wince at the confused look on Mr. Nash’s face, as if he couldn’t understand why she’d marry that way when there were so many local young men to choose from. Several of her former suitors were in attendance. They’d all been neighbors—she could hardly invite their parents and not them.
Mr. Nash gave a clipped bow to Cecilia. “My felicitations, Lady Blackthorne.” And then he escorted his mortified mother away.
“Are you well?” Michael murmured.
“I am.” Cecilia stifled a sigh.
He leaned over her almost protectively—or possessively. It might look many ways to her guests. But she heard the concern, felt the steadiness of his solid arm within hers. She remembered with a flash looking up from that muddy pit just that morning, and seeing his wet face staring down at hers with determination. She’d never been so happy and grateful to see anyone in her life.
“There are several men here who seem to regret our marriage,” he said, frowning.
She attempted a smile for the benefit of their curious guests. “Perhaps. But there are also many women here, who upon meeting you, now think our marriage makes sense.”
He looked truly baffled, and she found herself shaking her head ruefully.
“My lord, you are a handsome man—and a viscount. I am the daughter of an earl, an heiress. Both of us could have married far more conventionally than we did.”
“I am handsome?” His brow wrinkled.
“Are you looking for a compliment?” she asked. “It is simply that now that they’ve seen you, my neighbors think I am not so ... eccentric.”
Again, he offered the faint smile that hinted at more. “It was eccentricity that brought us together?”
“No, it was about control,” she whispered, looking away and blinking at the sudden moisture in her eyes. “I thought I could control a husband from halfway around the world, just like I guess I control Oliver, even though I never meant that to happen.”
He said nothing, only watched her with intensity, as if she were a laboratory experiment.
“But I’m not in control of anything, am I?” she asked, pasting a bright, practiced smile on her face.
“That’s not true,” he answered solemnly. “You are the master of an entire earldom. I wonder how many men here realize that.”
She shrugged, but something inside her felt a touch of pride.
“But as for this mystery that has upset the household, we will solve it, so that you’ll no longer feel so unsettled.”
“ ‘Unsettled,’ ” she echoed. “What an understatement.” Then she stiffened as she saw someone approach. She held Michael’s arm even closer as she murmured, “Now here is a suitor who often wouldn’t accept no. Perhaps you will be handy to have around tonight.”
Michael’s dark eyes glinted. “I don’t mind being used by a beautiful woman.”
She arched a brow. “ ‘Used’? What a wicked word.”
“And it has very many meanings of which I will be pleased to show you.”
She didn’t quite understand what he meant, but it felt decidedly wicked, and to her surprise, that felt decidedly ... good. Heavens, she didn’t even understand her own thoughts on that crazy day.
