Half an hour later, she stood, clutching her mother, in the shadow of a tree they had scrambled behind. Cecelia fought the desire to cry as she stared across the street at Liam, who was entering the Rochburns’ home with Francis Dentington on his arm. She could not see Liam’s face, but Francis was smiling up at him with a look of devotion that could not be mistaken.
Heaviness pressed on Cecelia’s chest. He had already turned his attention to another.
“Cecelia?” her mother asked with care.
Cecelia shook her head, watching as Liam disappeared through the Rochburns’ front door. “Let us go home,” she said, struggling not to cry. She did not wish to come apart in front of her mother.
“Perhaps it’s not as it appears,” her mother offered.
Cecelia nodded. “Perhaps,” she agreed, but only so her mother would not say more. Cecelia felt raw, and if she tried to discuss Liam, the thread that was holding her together would unravel. So instead of waiting for her mother to say more, Cecelia rushed back toward their house and straight for her room.
On Christmas Day, Cecelia and her mother made their way to Elizabeth’s home for the Christmastide feast. Cecelia was surprised at her mother’s willingness—no, true eagerness—to go. Mother had been to the market early that morning—also to Cecelia’s shock—and she had only come back home to fetch Cecelia just as it was time to leave. Her mother had been in a peculiarly good mood, but Cecelia was horribly gloomy, which struck her as an ironic change of positions.
When they entered Elizabeth’s festive home, Cecelia watched in amazement as her mother’s good mood became festive, as well, and her face actually lit up and glowed with delight. Her mother and Elizabeth huddled on the settee exchanging stories of Christmastides past, while Cecelia sat near the fire alone. She forced a smile every now and then when they glanced her way, but she felt as if a dark shroud permanently covered her heart.
Her thoughts drifted to Liam as she turned and stared into the bright flickering flames. She could not help but wonder what he was doing today. Was he with Francis perhaps?
Moments later, when Cooper announced the arrival of Aila, Aldridge, and Blackmore, Cecelia’s heart ached with sadness that Liam must either be with Francis or simply had not wanted to be wherever Cecelia was.
She scrambled to her feet, frowning when she realized her mother did not look at all surprised to see the trio. But her attention was diverted when Blackmore took off his hat and Cecelia realized both his eyes were blackened.
“Whatever happened to your eyes?” she exclaimed, rushing to him.
Blackmore gingerly touched the purpled skin with a wince. He gave her a rueful look. “MacLeod challenged me to a boxing match at Gentleman Jackson’s over you, and the result was this.” He pointed to his face.
“But that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, hope coming to her heart once more.
Blackmore looked at her oddly. “You think it wonderful that I have been wounded?”
His offended tone made her chuckle. “No!” she assured him.
He nodded. “Good. The victor won the prize of getting to come here today to see you. We agreed it would be awkward for both of us to try to win your affection at the same time.”
“You don’t mean to tell me you won?” she blurted.
Blackmore scowled at her. “No,” he replied glumly.
“I knew it could not be so!” she exclaimed.
Blackmore’s scowl deepened. “Your lack of confidence in me is rather off-putting, Miss Cartwright,” Blackmore grumbled.
“I am sorry, Blackmore,” she hastened to apologize for wounding his pride. Then thinking upon his sudden formality with her she added,“Miss Cartwright?”
“Indeed. MacLeod threatened to repeat our match if I dared to call you Cecelia ever again.”
“This is splendid!” Cecelia exclaimed.
“I’m glad I can bring you cheer,” Blackmore said dryly.
Cecelia frowned with sudden worry. “If Lord MacLeod won the match, then why are you here? Not that I am not glad to see you. You are my dear friend.”
“Yes, yes,” Blackmore said, waving a hand at her. “MacLeod acquired an engagement for a duel right after beating me soundly, so I decided to take advantage of my good fortune and come try to win your affection, which I now see is an utter waste of time.”
“I am sorry,” she said, feeling guilty. Yet she knew Blackmore did not truly love her, so he would be quite all right. Her pulse had ticked up several beats, and she found she was wringing her hands as she thought about what Blackmore had said of Liam. “Whatever do you mean he acquired an engagement for a duel?”
Aldridge answered her question in an oddly cheerful tone. “Lord Tarrymount happened into Gentleman Jackson’s after MacLeod trounced Blackmore.”
“Let’s not say hetrouncedme,” Blackmore said, sulking.
