She sipped it before responding, “Do you have nothing better to do than watch me in silent judgement?”
He had been looking upon her with quiet contempt all evening. No doubt he was resentful at having had to chaperone her.
“This was your idea. The least you could do is have a little fun whilst you are at it,” she insisted, and when she dared to look at him again, she found a dumbfounded expression on his face.
It quickly closed, becoming cold and distant once more as he snapped, “This is most definitely not my idea of fun, Lady Cecelia. I have much better things to do with my time. Thetonis superficial and cold.”
Cecelia laughed openly at that.
Perhaps he was not quite superficial, but he was most definitely cold. Standing beside him was like standing next to an ice sculpture. She wondered if he would actually be cold were she to reach out and touch him.
No, she must not think of such things, nor of the way her spine had tingled earlier when his fingers had brushed her skin.
“You, Your Grace, are the only cold one I have met this evening,” she told him, meeting his gaze with far more confidence than she felt.
“Lady Cecelia, you are the most—” as it seemed their bickering was about to ensue, they were interrupted by the next gentleman on her dance card. She might have kissed him in gratitude if not for remembering where they were.
She would not do anything to risk spoiling this evening. Save for the duke, she had begun to have a wonderful time, and she was determined for that to continue as she allowed the lord to lead her out onto the dance floor.
The next several hours passed in a whirlwind of dancing, talking, and laughter, and Cecelia found herself leaving the ball with a beaming smile.
That was until their carriage ride home.
As he had been on their arrival, the duke was utterly silent, staring out the window as if she did not exist.
Cecelia contented herself with thinking on the evening. For the most part, she'd had a good time. Many of her dance partners had been interesting, their conversations pleasant and thought-provoking. She had not anticipated meeting so many interesting characters.
And the ball itself was beautiful. The candlelight had been romantic, the flowers and decorations exquisite. She was absolutely determined not to allow him to spoil her evening.
When the carriage pulled up outside Fernworth Manor, she was quick to exit, almost running in before the duke could say his goodbyes.
Yet, she kept herself firmly planted at the bottom of the steps as he removed himself from the carriage to bow low.
“I do hope I have done my duty as your chaperone this evening,” he said, his head still bowed.
Cecelia grumbled under her breath that he might have been a little more pleasant in doing so, but politely she responded, “Your chaperonage was appropriate. Thank you, Your Grace.”
If he were to remain cold and distant to her, then she would treat him much the same way.
“Good evening, Lady Cecelia.”
“Good evening,” she responded, offering a stiff curtsey.
She forced herself to walk up the steps as slowly and gracefully as humanly possible, certain she could feel the duke's eyes on her all the while.
Only when she was safely inside did Cecelia quicken her steps into a run and race up the steps directly to her mother's room.
In all the excitement, she had almost forgotten about her illness.
It was only when she reached the doorway that she stopped, holding her breath at the sight before her.
Her lips twitched upwards at the corners as she looked upon her mother and sisters all lying upon the bed, a tangle of arms and legs as they slept.
It was a scene she remembered well from her childhood, one she would have been involved in previously. And it reminded her of better times, of times when she had been carefree and happy, when her father had been alive, and she would feel him brush back her hair as she slept and kiss her forehead before whispering, “Sweet dreams, little one.”
She would have opened one eye to watch him do the very same with her sisters, smiling to herself before closing her eyes firmly to let him believe she was asleep or risk him moving her to her own bed.
The memory made her heart ache, and though she was desperate to tell her sisters of the ball that evening, she couldn't bring herself to wake them.
