“James,” she said, returning his smile comfortably.
“Though I have been given the title of viscount, I can assure you I come from humble beginnings. I was not searching for fame andglory on the battlefield, only seeking to return home safely with as many of my comrades as I could.”
She listened to him intently and as he said, “In truth, I hardly talk of any of it at all,” she was glad to know he was not the kind of man who became overly proud and even conceitful at his newfound title.
“Perhaps then you might tell me instead of your childhood?” Cecelia suggested, “or perhaps of your family?”
The expression on his face then was clear, something he would much sooner talk about. “It would be my pleasure if you would agree to share some of yours also?”
And so they talked, discussing all manner of things, such as a shared upbringing in which they both spent much of their time in the country, how James was not one for big and lavish parties but rather preferred his own company, and how he found his newfound fame quite tiring to say the least.
Cecelia shared her own childhood, talking of her parents, her sisters, and her love of nature, and even how her mother forced her to take extra comportment lessons because she was too ‘rebellious’.
And when she told him such, he laughed as if he thought it utterly ridiculous, just as she had when she had been forced to stand with a book atop her head, or when they had put a rod inthe back of her stays so that she was made to sit up entirely too straight.
“I do hope that you still find small ways to rebel, Lady Cecelia; life is far too short for all of theton'srules.”
At his words, she felt a rush, and a part of her felt the need to assure him that she did not. Instead, she whispered, “I do still walk barefoot in the meadows from time to time.”
They laughed together so easily that Cecelia began to feel as if she were walking on air.
When their dance finally came to an end, she was disappointed. She had hoped to spend a little more time with the first interesting man she had been introduced to all evening.
She was awfully surprised when he asked, “Will you join me for refreshments, Lady Cecelia?”
She was practically giddy as she accepted his request.
They spent much of the rest of the evening together, drinking and talking beside the dance floor amongst friends, Cecelia noting that though he received much attention from many of the young ladies in the room, he was entirely pinned upon her.
It was a welcome change from the half-hearted conversations she had shared with other gentlemen, their eyes always skirting around the room as if they were looking for their next innocent target.
“I must say, Lady Cecelia, I have greatly enjoyed our time together,” the viscount said as the evening drew to an end. He ran his fingers through his hair in a way that made Cecelia bite the inside of her lip. He certainly was charming. “I was wondering if you might permit me to call on you at Fernworth?”
Cecelia's chest exploded at the idea. Of all the young men who had asked such a question that evening, his was the first she actually wished for.
“I would be glad of the company, My Lord.”
He offered her his hand then, and she took it willingly. When he pressed his lips to her knuckles once more, she began to blush.
“I shall look forward to it with all of my heart, My Lady.”
It was only as he left her that Cecelia finally remembered where she was.
Her chest was all aflutter as she glanced about the room, and it sank when she once more met the gaze of George.
His expression, just as before, was unreadable. But something frightening burned in his gaze, something she was forced to look quickly away from for fear that it might change everything.
Chapter 16
The carriage was somehow even more uncomfortable than usual as George approached Fernworth Manor.
Several times that morning, and even the night before, he had considered ignoring his chaperoning duties for the day. But after all he had witnessed at the ball, he could not in good conscience do so.
Though he had promised Lady Cecelia that he would step back a little from his duties, he could not bring himself to stay away entirely, knowing just who might show their face at her home that morning.
And as he exited his carriage, he suspected he had been right to do so.
There was a line of carriages already pulled up in the driveway when he arrived, though to his relief, as he entered the house, slipping to the front of the queue as her chaperone, he found that nobody had yet been permitted to enter the drawing room.
