Page 72 of Seven Nights with the Wicked Duke
He desired her. She was sure of it. Unfortunately, it seemed that even the passion they shared was not enough for him to form an attachment to her.
She did not know why she was surprised. The Duke of Emerton was a rake who had unlimited access to the most exotic women across England and even beyond. Perhaps it was delusional to think he might settle for a naive English lady who knew little about sensual passion. But even knowing it was the truth did not make it any less painful.
"Cecilia," Magnus's voice came, jolting her from her reverie.
They were sitting at the dining table for dinner and she had been twirling her spoon in her soup bowl absentmindedly, and Magnus had been trying to call her attention. He must have been calling her for a while, because he stared at her with concern. Eyes just like hers, piercing her, watching her like he could see inside her brain.
Perhaps it was best that he had no such powers, if he did, she was sure that they would not be sitting quietly at the dining table. After all, no elder brother wanted to sit across his sister at the dining table, while she entertained lustful thoughts about his friend.
Apart from the fact that Magnus was sure to lose his composure, there was also the fact that he would promptly lose his appetite.
"My apologies, brother. Could you repeat what you just said?"
"Would you be kind enough to pass the salt? I have been asking you for that for the past minute. Your mind seems to have wandered. What is wrong?" he asked, his brow creasing with concern, even as he extended his hand to accept the saltshaker from her.
"My apologies, brother. I promise you I wasn't ignoring you. I was just thinking," she replied, forcing a smile.
"Whatever thoughts you were having, they were definitely not happy ones. What ails you, Cee? Perhaps I can be of help," he prodded, as he added the salt to his soup, before scooping into his mouth. His eyes fixed on hers.
It would be so easy to tell him, to bare her heart to him. To tell him how much she loved his friend, and wanted nothing more than to marry him. She could tell him that she did not want to marry Hector, even though he had thought they were perfect match.
Unfortunately she could not. All too clearly, she could imagine Magnus leaving this night on horseback to go and confront Theo. While Theo might be the more laid-back one amongst his friends, he also had an ego, one that was easily bruised. It was likely that they would clash. Being men, the aggravating lot that they could be, they would likely arrange a duel. In the end, she would lose both her brother and her lover. One dead and one forced into exile, the police authorities forever chasing after him to have him locked in the smelly, brutal jails at Newgate.
Cecilia shuddered at the thought. She would rather endure the pain of unrequited love than lose either her brother or her lover. Since she was not quite interested in that sort of suffering, she had to find another way.
"The viscount sent a missive around earlier. He wishes to take you to Gunter's for ice cream tomorrow at noon," Magnus informed her after swallowing a bite of his food.
And there was the crux of her problem, before she thought of how best to fix the mess that was her attachment to Theo. She had to let Hector go, for both his own good and hers.
The problem was how to broach the subject to Magnus. How did one explain to her brother that the man she had told him she liked was no longer her choice as a partner? While she had started this whole charade to rebel against Magnus and his rigid hold on her life, she had never set out to hurt him. This unfortunately would disappoint him. He had made quite a number of sacrifices to ensure that she had an appropriate courtship with the viscount. He definitely had hopes for theirwedding and she was not one to waste the effort of others. While it might be an unpleasant task, this had to be done.
Her happiness was more important than Magnus's mood. He would get over it eventually.
"You are not eating, Cecilia. I am now very convinced that something is wrong," he said, his brow knitting with deepening concern. "Does this have something to do with the viscount? You know you can tell me if you do not want to marry him?" he said dropping his cutlery, clasping his hands together so he could give her his full attention.
It would be too easy to tell him the truth, of how miserable she would be if she married the viscount, but for some reason, Cecilia could not find the courage to speak the words that stuck in her throat.
Taking a more thorough look at Magnus, she realized suddenly that he looked exhausted. He had most likely stayed up night to settle the household accounts, and had made the effort to come down to have dinner with her, even though he could have ordered for his meal to be brought up to his rooms. He had dragged his tired body to the table, because it was their tradition and he knew how much she hated having meals alone. Instead of an engaging companion, he was stuck with a sister who had her mind wandering the whole meal.
Instead of being angry, he was concerned for her. He was always this way, strict and authoritative one minute, concerned andtender the next. Now when she thought about it, it was probably the soldier and parental parts of his personality clashing.
While it was easy to criticize Magnus for being rigid while he raised her, she knew that it had not been easy for him, returning home from such a brutal war, battered, injured in more ways than the eye could see, only to find that he was saddled with the responsibility of raising his little sister. While she might have resented him, she understood the strength that was required from him to be able to do that without breaking apart. It was definitely not easy performing parental duties while battling one's demons for his own sanity, but he had done it the best way he could with no reward, nothing except for her accusations and resentment. She could not burden him with her troubles once more.
She would tell him eventually.
Not today.
Someday.
"I am fine," she said with a smile. "It has nothing to do with the viscount, I still think of him as a good suitor. I have no fear of our compatibility."
A bald-faced lie
"I just have a bit of a headache, that is all," she added, turning her gaze to her plate, forcing the cold meat past her mouth.
She might be lying through her teeth, but the obvious relaxation that visibly flowed through Magnus's body was worth it.
The man was stressed enough, there was no reason for her to ruin it. This was one of the reasons why she needed to marry and leave their home soon. While she enjoyed living with her brother, she could not countenance being an extra burden on his already heavily-laden shoulders. It definitely was not easy to be the duke to such a large dukedom. While it might be an enviable position for some, she knew firsthand just how difficult it could be while battling emotional wounds that haunted his night sleep. She refused to be the younger sister that added to his torture.
