He shrugged, and she knew he still didn’t trust him, but Oliver was the earl.
When Nell knocked on the door, Michael departed after reminding Cecilia that they would go down to breakfast together. Of course, he was dressed before her and waiting patiently in the corridor to escort her downstairs.
“I seem to remember your waiting for me here before,” she said.
“You were trying to elude your husband,” he replied, shaking his head.
“If it weren’t for this mysterious villain, I would be feeling a bit crowded.”
His expression briefly clouded, and she knew she had pricked him. But what else was she supposed to do? They’d never have an idyllic marriage. Regardless of what happened between them in bed, by the light of day they would have to separate. It was best to remember that.
Michael’s family joined them at breakfast, although Oliver, as usual, did not. His “pressing matter” of the previous evening had probably brought him home in the wee hours before dawn.
Lady Blackthorne had more questions about Cecilia herself, as if she wanted to learn everything she could about her new daughter-in-law.
“It must have been very exciting to spend much of your childhood in another country,” Lady Blackthorne said with awe.
Cecilia shrugged. “Perhaps. When I was much younger, I thought it an adventure, of course.”
She saw Michael glance at her sharply, as if with all her denials, he never imagined she might once have appreciated it.
“My mother wanted to be with my father at all times, so we did not await him in Bombay but followed his regiment wherever it went.”
Mr. Blackthorne actually whistled as he stared at her and buttered his toast at the same time.
“We traveled jungles and mountains, waited anxiously behind lines at every engagement.” She didn’t realize her voice was growing softer with each word as her mind flew back to those dreaded hours, when they wondered if her father lived. She gave a start and forced a smile for her mother-in-law. “My father seemed to have luck on his side.”
“Not luck,” Michael said. “Talent and intuition. He had a gift for practically reading the mind of the enemy. He seemed to know their intentions before they did and concocted the perfect response, never needlessly cruel, never too timid. He had the respect of his men, his superiors, and the enemy.”
Cecilia gazed at him with gratitude, touched.
“The two of you did not meet in those days?” Lady Blackthorne asked.
Michael shook his head. “Cecilia and her mother escorted young Lord Appertan home to attend Eton. After that, she was there sporadically, and we never met. I did meet your mother once, though,” he told Cecilia.
“I had not realized,” she murmured. “My mother was devoted to my father and did not like to be long parted from him.” That sounded so ... innocent, so simplistic, when the truth was more complicated. Instead, she thought about how Michael had tried to make things easier by not mentioning Gabriel. But her brother deserved to be remembered. So she told them about her little brother’s bravery in saving her life, and the loss of his own.
By the end of Cecilia’s story, Lady Blackthorne was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief drawn from her sleeve. “Oh, my dear, I cannot imagine how your family coped. You poor little things—and your poor parents. There is nothing worse than outliving a child. But ah, your Gabriel had such heart.”
Cecilia nodded. “My mother was never the same,” she admitted, thinking back. “Yes, she came back to England with us at first, but it was so obvious she feared for my father, and that she longed to be with him. And from what my father used to write, when she was with him, she lived in fear for Oliver and me. It was as if she couldn’t decide where she needed to be.” But being with her father had won out because of all her mother’s insecurities. She and Oliver had both needed her, but it had not mattered.
“India killed my mother at last,” she heard herself say.
There was a pregnant silence, and she looked around in surprise. Lady Blackthorne’s soft eyes were full of sympathy, Mr. Blackthorne’s with interest. Michael seemed ... distant.
“It was a fever,” Cecilia explained, spreading her hands. “She was always susceptible to the illnesses there, but she wouldn’t leave. I was with her.” Now that she’d started, it was as if she couldn’t stop, and she knew it was all aimed at Michael, so he’d understand. “I nursed her, and she suffered terribly. My father felt that India and even his career killed her in the end. He was never quite the same after that. He wanted me home with Oliver, where I could take care of him, and we’d have each other.”
Michael had known she’d suffered in India, but as they stared at each other, he knew in his heart what she was saying—that she had too many terrible memories of India, that she needed him to know she wouldn’t change her mind. He saw India as a country of promise, a way for him to know success he’d never had before, and to her, it was about death and loss. Three members of her family had died there—and he’d been the cause of the last. If he told her ... she’d include him in all that loss, and their marriage might never recover.
Withholding his past hadn’t seemed so important, but he’d realized, after she’d mentioned his dreams, that he was almost lying by not telling her. Could he continue to do that if he loved her? He still remembered how tenderly and sweetly she’d watched him as he talked of her father’s bravery, but that tenderness wasn’t for him.
Chapter 19
It rained most of the day, and Cecilia fully expected to find indoor amusements for Michael’s family, but to her surprise, he took the lead, playing billiards with his brother, then the both of them teaching her to play, while their mother laughed and made her own suggestions. Oliver stopped in for this, amused but not sarcastic, and for a brief time, Cecilia forgot her worries and simply enjoyed having family around her again.
Even as Michael made plans to visit his family soon, and she was included, she didn’t know if it would work out that way. Perhaps he still thought he could make her fall in love with him, make her lose every dream she had for herself and the estates. That simply wouldn’t happen.
And they got through another day without an attack, and she thanked God fervently.
