Page 75 of Return of the Viscount
Michael squeezed Cecilia’s hand, as if bracing her against the teasing, and she looked up with a reassuring smile.
For a few minutes, they discussed Michael’s injury, and he played down its severity, but Cecilia had seen the scars, and knew he might have come close to bleeding to death. She shivered. When Talbot announced luncheon, Cecilia led them all to the conservatory, with its trees and ferns and climbing ivy making the glassed-in room seem like a jungle.
“I thought it would be a nice treat to eat under the autumn sun,” Cecilia explained, when her brother rolled his eyes at her. There was nothing wrong with trying to impress one’s mother-in-law.
A cloth-covered table and wrought-iron chairs had been placed before the fountain, and the gurgling of the water was a soothing background to their conversation.
Lady Blackthorne openly stared at Cecilia as they began to eat their breast of veal, and finally said, “Please do excuse my curiosity, but I cannot miss the bruise on your cheek. I hope the injury wasn’t more severe.”
The whole neighborhood knew of the “poaching accident,” so Cecilia explained it as such.
“How terrifying!” Lady Blackthorne gasped, her hand to her chest.
“It was, but I truly didn’t fear for long. Your son rescued me within an hour.”
Oliver continued to eat, not even raising his gaze. She told herself that he might still feel guilty for assuming she’d merely been avoiding the weather.
Lady Blackthorne cleared her throat delicately. “There was a time when I thought Michael would marry a young lady who lived near our home. Now that I’ve met you, I’m so very glad he waited.”
Cecilia straightened and eyed Michael in surprise, even as she thanked his mother for the compliment. She thought he would be embarrassed, but, instead, his jaw worked for a moment as if he clenched it.
“Mother, you know that was never serious,” Mr. Blackthorne began, eyeing his brother.
At last, Michael met his mother’s confused gaze. “Did you not realize what Father was doing?”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying or why you’re angry with me.” She blushed madly and looked at Cecilia with embarrassed regret.
Michael sighed and reached to touch her hand. “I’m not angry with you. I assumed you knew what Father was up to but were helpless to prevent it.”
Cecilia stared at each Blackthorne with curiosity, and knew that Oliver did the same.
Michael turned to Cecilia. “My ancestors married for money.”
Lady Blackthorne blanched, as if she didn’t like the words said aloud.
“My father was manipulating me into the same. He lied about our circumstances to our neighbor, leading him to believe having his daughter marry me would increase their wealth and connections.”
Lady Blackthorne gave a soft gasp. “I never heard this,” she whispered.
“It’s one of the reasons I had to leave,” Michael said, a note of apology in his voice. “I couldn’t let him do that to another woman. I didn’t want her to grow even more attached to me.”
Cecilia stared at Michael, wondering if he’d liked the young lady and regretted that they couldn’t marry. And what had it cost his pride to marry her, a wealthy woman? No wonder he’d gladly refused her dowry.
Lady Blackthorne’s eyes briefly glistened, but she didn’t cry. “Your father had his flaws, but in his own misguided way, he was trying to help you.”
Cecilia could see that Michael didn’t quite believe that, but he didn’t contradict his mother. He kept his fingers linked with his mother’s, even as he answered Mr. Blackthorne’s questions about where his regiment had recently been stationed. Everyone seemed glad for the distraction except Oliver, who rolled his eyes.
At last, Michael sat back to eye his brother. “So what have you been doing this past year? Your letters were filled with neighborhood doings or estate business, but I felt you were conspicuously leaving things out.”
Cecilia was surprised when Mr. Blackthorne received an encouraging look from his mother.
Mr. Blackthorne gave a crooked grin. “I just established my own law practice in St. Albans.”
Michael stiffened, and even Oliver stopped eating in surprise. It was not every day that a gentleman went into trade. Oliver gave Cecilia a smug “I told you they were poor” look. Cecilia ignored him, for she knew how personally Michael would take this. He was a proud man, working hard to finance his estate on his own.
“You could have told me what you were doing,” Michael said without emotion. “Doesn’t it take several years of apprenticeship?”
“I recently finished articling with a well-established solicitor.” Mr. Blackthorne hesitated. “I wanted to tell you in person. I’ve been fascinated by the legal work for the estate, and I decided it was something I wished to pursue.”
