Nothing could have prepared him for that moment. She had grown so beautiful in the years since he had been gone, breathtakingly so. Her raven hair had been longer and glossier than ever before, pinned up in a graceful fashion, causing her to look elegant.
She had been a far cry from the young lady he remembered with the muddy hem and scrapes all over her hands, elbows, and knees. There had always been bits of grass or hay or even leaves in her hair before, but when he had seen her yesterday, dressed all in black, her skin porcelain perfection, he had barely recognized her.
No, he would not think about that now as he thrust himself from the carriage. He was here to do his duty and that did not involve conversing with the young lady he had loved right up until the very moment she had twisted a knife into his heart, mocking him in front of all their closest friends and relatives.
He entered Fernworth Manor stiff-backed and sombre, offering his coat to the butler before he was quickly ushered to the drawing room.
The room itself was just as he remembered it, pastel pink wallpaper, gold accents, beautiful floral arrangements. But the people within felt like strangers to him.
That was until Catherine, the middle Flannery sister, jumped up from her seat beside Mary and rushed to wrap her arms around him.
It was a gesture of innocence and friendship, one that told him she had not yet been stomped down by the rules of theton.
And for just a second, he was disarmed, smiling into her hair as he hugged her back.
“George, it is so good to see you!”
“It is good to see you too, Lady Catherine.”
Only as she pulled away, drawn by the clearing of her mother's throat, did he recompose himself.
His eyes were drawn instantly to those of Lady Cecelia, and he closed down his expression, fighting the pain in his gut at the sight of her.
She was even more devastatingly beautiful than she had been the day before. Dressed still in black, her skin glowed against the darkness of it.
Yet, he would not allow himself to forget that day all those years ago, the day she had ripped out his heart and stomped on it right there in the gardens that lay just beyond the drawing room.
“Your Grace, please, have a seat,” Lady Rosalind Flannery insisted, rising to her feet to offer him a bow. “Can I offer you anything? Tea, perhaps, or some other refreshments.”
“Thank you, My Lady, but no. I am afraid I cannot remain long,” George stated, urging her to return to her seat even as he took one as far away from Cecelia as he could get.
Still, it did not feel far enough.
“I am certain you are a very busy man of late, Your Grace,” she said, a half-smile on her lips. “We thank you for attending.”
George dipped his head and turned to Mr Jones, struggling not to meet Cecelia's striking green gaze. “What, may I ask, is this about?”
Mr Jones cleared his throat and adjusted the papers he already had in hand.
“We are here to read the last will and testament of Lord Edmund Flannery.”
At that, George's throat constricted. What could he possibly have to do with any of this?
His palms grew clammy at the possibilities.
He could not help glancing in Cecelia's direction. And it appeared she was just as surprised as he.
She met his gaze studiously, her expression growing unreadable, and George would have given anything to ask what she was thinking.
Instead, he remained silent as Mr Jones began to reel off the will, explaining how and when all assets would be given to the relevant recipients.
And just when George believed it was all over, just when he was questioning even more why he had been called there, Mr Jones gave the reason.
“Lastly, Lord Flannery wished to make it clear he expects his eldest daughter, Lady Cecelia Flannery, to attend this year's social season. He states that it is of the utmost importance to secure a husband and a future for you all.”
“But we have no chaperone for her!” Lady Flannery exclaimed, her eyes tearful at the reading of her late husband's will.
Mr Jones offered her a slightly sad smile before he turned his gaze to George. “That is where you come in, Your Grace. It is Lord Flannery's wish that you be the one to chaperone Lady Cecelia this Season.”
