The maid's face paled.
“Forgive me, My Lady,” she said, “I do not wish to cause any upset.”
“The fault is not yours to bear, Daisy,” Cecelia assured her, feeling a little guilty at her previous tone. “I ought to have been more direct.”
“Perhaps you should go to him,” Mary suggested, her arms still wrapped around Catherine.
The two sisters looked awfully cozy in bed, and Cecelia wanted nothing more than to slip in beside them and hold them both until the rest of the world simply went away.
With a sigh of exasperation, she said to the maid, “You may tell my mother I shall be down presently.”
The maid dipped her head and left, and when Cecelia turned back to her sisters, she found them both watching her expectantly.
“Why are you looking at me that way?” she asked, hiding her hands in the folds of her skirts.
“Why are you avoiding the viscount?” Mary asked, her brow furrowed.
“I am not!”
Cecelia knew she had spoken too quickly when her sisters started to chuckle.
“Poor James,” Catherine said, tutting. “What has he ever done to deserve your avoiding him?”
Cecelia's chest tightened. It wasn't what he had done but rather what he hadn't.
Yet, how could she explain such a thing to her sisters without sounding entirely foolish?
“He has done nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “I am merely concerned with you, dear sister.”
Catherine pulled herself from Mary's arms, looked Cecelia in the eye, and said, “As you can see, I am well.”
Cecelia had to admit that given the circumstances, she was in perfect health. Compared to the rest of them, who were still shaken after the ordeal, nobody could ever have guessed that Catherine had almost drowned the day before.
Cecelia rolled her eyes and looked to Mary as she said, “You will ensure she stays in bed, won't you?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Mary said, almost mockingly, and Cecelia scowled.
“This is no time for amusement. Mother will forever be on our backs if she becomes unwell,” Cecelia pointed out. It had taken her all her effort to encourage her mother not to be the one totend their sister after her own illness. Though she was certain she could not catch such a chill, she did not wish to take the risk, not after their dear father.
“I swear on every book in the library,” Mary reassured her.
Knowing there was nothing that Mary held more precious, Cecelia was satisfied. Yet, she sighed deeply to know there was nothing else keeping her from Lord Greystone's attention.
“I shall be back as soon as I am able,” she said, leaning over the bed to kiss each of her sisters affectionately upon the cheek.
“Do not rush,” Catherine insisted. “We are perfectly capable of entertaining ourselves.”
Cecelia shivered at the image her sister's words conjured, their bouncing on the bed and causing all kinds of mayhem. Yet, she was hopeful that Mary might have more sense than that now, given her willingness towards more lady-like pursuits where Walter was concerned.
“Behave,” she said sternly as she made her way to the door.
“Do say hello to Lord Greystone for us,” Mary said, and Cecelia shivered again.
A part of her wished she could send Mary in her place.
Before she could give herself some other excuse, she left the room, leaving Daisy with instructions to stay without and listen for anything untoward.
Making her way down the hall, down the stairs, she tried to come up with some excuse or another to encourage Lord Greystone to leave.
