As even Catherine took over Cecelia, she quickened her pace to come up just behind her in third.
Panting for breath and laughing excitedly, she turned to look at Mary as she said, “You won.”
Catherine leaned over with her hands on her knees and panted, “You let her win.”
“I did not!” Cecelia protested.
“She did not! I won fair and square!” Mary insisted, bouncing up and down. “What do I win?”
Cecelia cocked her head, thoughtfully. “I think you should take the last apple.”
Mary scowled. “That's a boring prize.”
“Maybe if you're lucky, I'll let you read to me tonight,” Cecelia said, and Mary's eyes lit up.
The carriage pulled up beside them as they made their way up the manor steps, still laughing happily.
Their laughter and playfulness continued into the house as Sophia and the footman followed with their bags.
But when Cecelia spied her mother just inside the drawing room, her laughter caught in her throat.
The deep scowl on her mother's face caused her to glance down at herself.
The hems of her skirts were soaked with mud, and when she lifted her hand, she realized several strands of her hair had come loose from her hairpins.
A glance in the mirror hanging close by told her she couldn't have looked further from ladylike.
And as a second figure stepped into the drawing room doorway, her heart sank.
“George is here,” Catherine hissed under her breath.
“What is he doing here?” Mary whispered.
Cecelia could not speak as her gaze met his. A lump formed in her throat, and she struggled to breathe as she saw the disapproving glower in his eyes.
Her cheeks immediately grew hot with embarrassment, and she hated herself for it. Why should she be bothered by how he might judge her?
“I thank you for your time, Lady Flannery,” Lord Cumberland said, dipping his head. “I must take my leave of you now.”
Before her mother could say a word, he exited the drawing room and slipped past Cecelia without so much as a word.
In fact, he barely even met her gaze as he went, and Cecelia felt once more the sick feeling she had felt when he had snubbed her before.
“Lady Catherine, Lady Mary,” he said in farewell, dipping his head, and Cecelia felt invisible. It was a feeling that made her stomach twist.
Almost the moment that he was gone, her mother swept from the drawing room to grab her by the arm. “What do you think you are doing? Look at you!”
Cecelia's cheeks grew all the hotter. Perhaps, for once, her mother's anger was warranted.
“Wha … what was he doing here?” was all she managed.
Her mother's grip on her arm tightened until she felt nails digging into her flesh.
“He came to offer his decision,” her mother hissed before she added, “you are a foolish, foolish girl. I might have changed his mind had you not come in looking like … likethis!”
Cecelia's heart sank. Bile rose in the back of her throat, and her hands started to grow clammy. “He said no then?”
Her mother threw her arm away as if she could no longer stand to touch her. “Of course, he said no! And I should agree with him to do so, looking at the state of you!”
