Page 74 of Return of the Viscount
“You don’t believe in a honeymoon? Technically, we’re on ours. Finding a person attempting to murder you is not what one would consider a honeymoon adventure.” He lowered his voice. “Let Appertan run his own estates for a day. You want him to be a good man, a good husband to Miss Webster, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” she insisted.
“Appertan reminds me of my father and grandfather, who squandered their estates and money. I wish someone would have helped them before it was too late. Let’s help your brother.”
“I know you’re right,” she said in a quiet voice. “But it’s difficult for me to abandon the lands and people I love. But ... my father entrusted Oliver to me. I can’t let either of them down. Very well, I’ll do as you wish and give Oliver a day.”
Just a day, Michael thought, watching as she relaxed enough to finally eat breakfast. He was surprised how difficult it was for her to give up even that one day of control. He suddenly realized it would take her a long time to give up overseeing her brother, even once Appertan had taken over his duties. He would spend their marriage trying to persuade her to join him in India, and the time would never be right.
Cecilia walked Lord Doddridge to the portico midmorning to see him on his way. More than once, he’d said how glad he was that she was unscathed, and he seemed sincere enough. But she was finding it difficult to trust anyone lately, and she wondered if she’d ever be able to feel normal again. What if they never found the person responsible for these “accidents”? Would she have to live in fear for the rest of her life?
Michael waited at the door, watching her, she knew. And she was grateful. He escorted her to the study, where Oliver waited, arms folded across his chest as he glowered at them both. Cecilia talked about the account books, and what Lord Doddridge had been looking at. Though Oliver said little, at least he appeared to be listening, even occasionally nodding. Then Cecilia and Michael discussed the earldom’s investments, from mines to shipping to railways, and once or twice, Oliver asked a question. He tried to balk when she said he would be assuming her duties for a day, but it was Michael who pointed out that a steward could cheat an ignorant peer, and Oliver had to know what was involved, even if he wasn’t the one who oversaw everything every day. At last, he acquiesced.
When Talbot announced the arrival of Michael’s family, even Oliver looked intrigued enough to follow them to the entrance hall.
Cecilia stood back as the Dowager Lady Blackthorne and her son entered Appertan Hall. Both had dark brown hair like Michael’s, but Lady Blackthorne’s was threaded with silver, which, along with the confident way she carried herself, made her look distinguished rather than old. It was very obvious her beauty had once captured the interest of many a man. Her younger son seemed to be a more genial version of Michael, a bit shorter, lighter of frame, with eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and it seemed as if he smiled often.
Michael grinned as Talbot took his mother’s bonnet and shawl and his brother’s hat, then swept them both into his big embrace. Cecilia saw Lady Blackthorne wipe away happy tears, and Cecilia felt the sting of her own. She well knew what it was like not to see someone you loved for months if not years at a time. After Gabriel’s death, when she and her mother brought Oliver back to attend Eton, there were long stretches where she never saw her father at all. And now, so many of her family were gone. Perhaps that was why she clung so tightly to Oliver.
And now she was the wife of a soldier, she reminded herself bleakly.
Then Michael turned and gestured toward her. She came forward and let him take her hand.
“Mother, this is Lady Blackthorne, my wife, and her brother, Oliver Mallory, the Earl of Appertan.”
Oliver bowed as Cecilia curtsied, and when she rose, she was surprised when Lady Blackthorne sank into her own deep curtsy, then smiled up at Cecilia with spry amusement.
“I never imagined this pleasure,” Lady Blackthorne said, her voice deep and rich.
Cecilia smiled, surprised to find herself blushing. “Does that mean you never thought your son would marry?”
“We doubted it,” her other son said wryly.
Michael sighed. “This is my brother, Mr. Allen Blackthorne.”
Mr. Blackthorne bowed over her hand. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Cecilia. If I had known one could marry such beautiful women in India, I would have enlisted myself.”
“But I did not meet him in India,” Cecilia said without thinking.
Michael only looked amused as his mother’s smile faltered with curiosity.
“Lady Cecilia and I had known each other through letters, and the gracious words of her father,” Michael explained.
Cecilia led the way toward the drawing room, noticing that although Mr. Blackthorne looked around appreciatively, Lady Blackthorne was focused on her.
“So ... you decided to marry without having met each other?” Lady Blackthorne said in bewilderment.
“We married by proxy six months ago,” Michael explained.
“No wonder you didn’t tell us.” Mr. Blackthorne grinned and shook his head.
Lady Blackthorne was not smiling, her concern for her son very obvious. She looked from Michael to Cecilia and back again. Cecilia wanted to cause no damage to the Blackthorne family’s harmony, so she walked to Michael’s side and took his hand.
He glanced at her swiftly, but if he was surprised, he didn’t show it, only squeezed her hand and looked down at her with a tender smile, the smile he’d first gifted her with last night, the one that made her realize that only she would ever see a certain side of him.
Whatever showed in her and Michael’s expressions, apparently it was enough for Lady Blackthorne, who let out a sigh and gave a tentative smile.
“Well, I have no right to worry,” she began, “and never would I judge. You both seem happy. And Lady Blackthorne, thank you for writing, because it looks like my son is a bit too distracted to remember his mother.”
