“I …” He stammered, struggling to find the words. “I’m frightened, Cece.”
The second the words left his mouth, George started regretting them.
Had she been anyone else, she would have got up and laughed at him, mocking him for his sincerity.
Yet, Cece was not that kind of lady. She would not hurt him in such a manner.
Instead, she turned on the wall to look directly at him as she asked, “Frightened of what?”
“Of leaving, of going to France,” he admitted unable to utter the words,of going to war,and yet, thinking them all the same.Of leaving you.
“Oh, George,” Cece whispered, her gaze softening.
And there it was, the reason that George found himself falling for this beautiful young lady repeatedly.
Rambunctious, rebellious, messy. Those were all words to describe the girl sitting beside him. Those were thecharacteristics that everyone knew of her, but there was another side to Cece. A side so rarely seen by the world, a side that George liked to think was only reserved for those sheloved.
“You need not worry,” she insisted, taking his hand in both of hers. “I am quite certain they shall not put you on the frontlines. You’re your father’s heir, the heir to Cumberland. I am certain all will be done to ensure you come home safely. And you will do all you can to come home safely, won’t you?”
The concern in her gaze deepened and tugged on George’s heartstrings until he felt the urge to pull her into his embrace. Fighting it with all his might, he instead laid his free hand upon top of hers, squeezing her fingers between both his hands.
“I shall always come back to you, Cece,” he promised her, his lip trembling a little as he attempted to find the words to tell her the truth, to tell her that when he returned home, he wished to see her secured, to see her happy.
He closed his eyes, able to imagine a future beyond the war, beyond all the fear he felt, a future withher.
And when he opened his eyes once more, he was prepared to tell her so, to see if perhaps she felt the same. After all, how could he leave without knowing how she truly felt?
Yet, before he could utter a single word, the sound of laughter came rushing towards them.
“Cece! George! Come and play with us!”
It was Mary, Cece’s younger sister, almost as rambunctious as Cece herself, yet not nearly so charming.
She was followed quickly by Catherine, their other sister, and Walter and Elizabeth, the children of one of the other lords whose residences were close by.
All young and innocent, George felt his heart clench at the thought of leaving them all. Their faces – so happy and carefree – only made him more terrified of the future that was soon to befall him. He gripped Cece’s hand all the tighter but as if she had suddenly remembered her mother’s important lessons, she snatched her hands away and rose to her feet.
“What game are you playing?” she asked as the group stopped before them, Catherine gazing between them as if she had noticed the moment they had been having upon their arrival.
“I do hope we are not interrupting anything,” the second sister said, but neither Cece nor George had the chance to respond.
“We’re going to play blind man’s bluff,” Mary explained, lifting the pale blue scarf in her hand.
“Hey, that’s my scarf,” Cece protested, reaching for the garment, yet Mary was quicker, swiftly snatching it out of her reach.
“Then you had better play with us if you wish for it back,” Mary insisted, her smile beaming. She turned to Elizabeth and added, “I think she is frightened of losing, don’t you?”
“I am not,” Cece protested, and this time, when she reached for the scarf, she managed to pluck it from her sister’s hand. “Though I do believe that George should be ‘it’ first. He is, after all, the oldest amongst us.”
“I thought the youngest always went first,” George blurted, his cheeks reddening as he saw the amusement on his friends’ faces.
“What’s the matter, George? Areyouworried you might lose?” Cece goaded, wafting the scarf in his face.
Rising to his full height, towering over the younger children, George glowered at her.
“Everyone is always worried they will lose against you, Cece,” he pointed out, and she looked at him playfully.
“It isn’t my fault I’m too clever for you,” she said, and George couldn’t help laughing. Were her mother there she would havescolded her for disrespecting his intelligence. But that was another thing George loved about Cece, her desire to challenge him at every turn.
