When she glanced around from her seat, she found him clambering in behind her, his expression once more unreadable, that young boy utterly gone from view.
Cecelia's heart ached with disappointment, with a need to bring him back again. If she could just see him one more time, forcing herself through this debut would be worth it.
She tried not to stare too openly as the carriage door shut behind him. He adjusted his jacket before banging on the roof to instruct the coachman that they were ready.
And when he had, his gaze fell immediately to hers. Too late, she blinked.
“What are you staring at?” he asked. “Don't tell me my barber missed a spot, or I shall never listen to my mother again on the matter.”
Cecelia quickly averted her gaze, turning her face away to hide her laughter. She remembered well how Lady Cumberland had always scolded him for being unkempt.
“No, no, it's nothing,” she said quickly. “I thought I saw something, but it was nothing.”
The duke leaned forward, and Cecelia's heart skipped a beat, only to be disappointed when he merely adjusted in his seat and leaned back again.
His face had been so close to hers for just a second that she almost believed he was up to no good.
And yet, how it would have been oh, so good if he had been.
She forced the thought away quickly.
Yes, this was the boy she had fallen in love with, the very first boy she had ever kissed in secret at the bottom of the gardens whilst they had been rolling about in the grass, and yes, she would have done anything for him once.
But he was also the duke, the cold and distant man who had returned from war without so much as a letter to let them know that he was alright. He was the man who had declined her father's wishes – why she did not know – and snubbed her for all her family and their solicitor to see.
There were so many reasons why she ought not to think like that. And chief amongst them was the fact that he was chaperoning her to her debut ball. How could she ever allow the boy he used to be to her to destroy everything before it had even begun?
Sitting back in her seat firmly, she played with her fan in her lap, running her finger over the folds.
For a second, a question bubbled up in her throat,why did you change your mind?
Yet, she couldn't bring herself to ask it aloud, for she was fearful of the answer, fearful that it would not be nearly as romantic as something in one of Mary's fairy-tale books.
Discreetly sucking in a breath, she told herself,we are both merely doing our duties.
And when she dared a glance at the duke, she saw him staring out of the window as if he had entirely forgotten that she was there.
Perhaps it was best she did the same until they arrived at the ball, better to remain silent and not risk rocking the boat, or the carriage, that was.
Just get this over with,she told herself. As soon as she had been introduced to several suitors, things would be easier. And the sooner one of those suitors asked for her hand, the sooner she and Lord Cumberland could part ways for good.
It was clear to her that was what he wished, but as they travelled, Cecelia started to realize that perhaps she did not wish the same.
Her hand still tingled where he had helped her into the carriage, and she held onto the sensation for all it was worth because, in truth, it was priceless.
***
Upon arriving at the residence of Lord and Lady Basset, Cecelia prepared to escape the carriage as quickly as possible.
Yet, before she could do so, His Grace said, “I almost forgot.”
Cecelia raised a brow, her heart skipping a beat as he leaned down to pick something up from beneath the seat.
When he produced a sizable box, her heart skipped another beat.
“This is for you,” he said, handing it to her.
Cecelia hesitated only a moment before taking it from him.
