“I think I shall,” he said then, beginning to remove his hat and coat to give both to the waiting butler.
Cecelia forced herself not to walk too quickly as they all entered the drawing room where her mother stood awaiting them.
“Your Grace, I am so pleased to see you,” she said, curtseying as low as her ageing limbs would allow. “I wish to thank you for your swift thinking yesterday. I fear terribly what may have happened to our poor Catherine had you not been there.”
Cecelia thought she heard Lord Greystone scoff, but when she glanced over her shoulder, his expression was unreadable.
“There are no thanks necessary, My Lady,” George assured her, and he took a seat as she gestured him to do so.
Cecelia couldn't help watching the grace with which he swept back the tails of his jacket and set himself down on the couch beside her mother. “I could never have forgiven myself if I had let any harm come to Catherine, your husband and my father being such good friends as they were.”
“Yes, indeed,” her mother said, nodding. “Though I should neverforgivemyself were I not to offer my sincere gratitude.”
“Then I accept it willingly, My Lady,” George said, and Cecelia jumped as she felt a hand at the small of her back.
“Shall we sit, My Lady?”
Lord Greystone stood beside her now, gesturing to the couch opposite the others.
The thought of sitting beside him when she so desperately wished to offer her own thanks to George made her feel quite dizzy.
Her knees trembled as she crossed the room and forced herself to sit.
“How is dear Catherine?” George asked, and Cecelia was all too aware of his gaze on her. Lord Greystone, however, had his attention entirely on the duke, looking at him as if he were a snake in the grass, ready to strike at any moment.
“I do hope she is well considering her ordeal,” George continued when Cecelia found she was unable to speak. “She has always had such a strong constitution.”
His genuine concern, his words reminding her of how close they had been as children, made her smile. More than that, it made her heart swell.
Even after all that had happened, he still cared for them, all of them. It was abundantly clear on his face, in the way he held her gaze as he awaited her response.
“She is well, thanks to you, Your Grace,” Cecelia said, meeting his gaze, her hands trembling where she had placed them once more in the folds of her skirts. “I do not believe she shall catch a chill. I think you may have rescued her in the nick of time.”
“If only we had been able to do so without your getting a soaking, Your Grace,” Lord Greystone said. “It was a most undignified entrance into the frigid water. I do hope you are well yourself.”
Cecelia cringed at the tone of the man's voice. It was quite clear to her that he hoped no such thing.
“I am very well, My Lord,” George said, and his gaze lingered on Cecelia's only a moment longer before he looked to the viscount. “I can assure you that at that moment, I did not feel the cold at all. Though, I am certain you yourself have felt such adrenaline given your own heroics during the war.”
The way the two glared at each other made Cecelia wish she could have struck their heads together. They looked like a pair of stags ready to lock their horns.
Only her mother seemed not to notice such things as she said, “How wonderful it is of you both to come and enquire as to Catherine's health. I do hope you shall both stay for some tea.”
For a second, Cecelia hoped that they might both decline. At least, if they were both to leave, she would not be seen to be taking any sides. Then, she might have just a little longer to come to terms with the conflicting feelings that were a growing turmoil within her.
But it seemed that she should have no such luck.
“It would be a pleasure to take tea with you, My Lady,” Lord Greystone said, though it was to Cecelia that he looked.
“I believe I have the time also,” George said, and Cecelia gulped as she found his gaze upon her also.
It was almost as if they were both looking to her to make some excuse for the other to leave.
Yet, she could think of none.
And so, instead, she practically jumped to her feet and said, “I ought to be returning to my sister's bedside.”
“But, I thought you said she was in no danger of becoming unwell?” Lord Greystone protested.
