Page 92 of Return of the Viscount
“Take them out of here!” Michael shouted.
Oliver pushed Jennette into the corridor and followed her.
Though Michael had the fire almost completely eradicated, Cecilia ran across the hall, found another brimming pitcher, and put out the last of the flames. Then she and Michael stared at each other, coughing with the drifting smoke.
Dazed, she tried to move by him toward the window, but he caught her shoulders, even as they heard the first screams from down below.
“Don’t look,” he said.
She flung herself into his arms and held on. “She—she killed Hannah,” she choked out, sobs overcoming her.
“I know,” he soothed, running his hands down her head, across her back.
“She tried to kill me—all the time she was listening to my fears, she was—she was plotting to—to—” She couldn’t finish her sentence, could only shudder with grief and confusion. At last, she tipped her head back and gazed helplessly into his tender eyes. “What did I do wrong, Michael?”
“Nothing. She was like this long before your father died, before you took over the earldom. You were just one more obstacle in her way. But it’s finished now.”
“For you and me, maybe, but the Websters—Oliver—” She sagged against him wearily. “I have to go to him. He’ll need me.”
“Of course he does.”
“But not the way you think,” she said, forcing her shaky limbs to hold her upright. “I—I was proud of him today, Michael. Even with the terrible things he’s done, today I was proud of him.”
During the rest of the traumatic day, Cecilia watched her brother begin to take command. When Michael volunteered to ride for the constable, the sobbing Mrs. Webster begged Oliver to let their family shame remain hidden, so she could mourn her children in peace. Oliver looked at Cecilia, and she stared at the broken woman, who would have to live with the knowledge that one daughter had murdered the other. And Mrs. Webster didn’t even know what Penelope had done to Cecilia.
Cecilia leaned against Michael and gave her agreement for the day’s events to be shrouded in secrecy. Penelope fell from the window accidentally, and that’s all people would need to know. Even Jennette had calmed down enough to agree, tearfully saying she owed the Websters too much to betray them. Mr. Webster returned home at last, and his wife swooned into his arms. There was still Francis, the page, to deal with, but by the time they’d returned to the Hall, he’d taken his things and fled.
That night, Cecilia stood in her bedroom window, looking out across the darkly shrouded grounds in the direction of the Websters’ manor. She’d had time to compose herself, to remember that she was at last free of fear. Slowly, she closed the curtains against the night and turned around.
Michael watched her, leaning on his cane. He’d washed the soot from his face and hands, but a few spots still stained his shirt. It was the first moment they’d had to themselves after dealing with Oliver, Jennette, and their little girl. Jennette had been frightened of what Oliver might do, but he’d offered her a manor at the edge of Appertan Hall’s property. He would deed it to his daughter and her mother, as long as he could visit Darlene whenever he wanted, see that she was properly schooled, and someday married well, with a sizable dowry. Jennette had gaped at him, then at Cecilia, who’d smiled, before Jennette buried her face in her daughter’s hair and nodded her acceptance.
Now Cecilia looked at Michael, and asked tiredly, “What did you think of Oliver today?”
“He handled himself like a man,” Michael said, “but I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I want to talk about us.”
She’d known this was coming but couldn’t think what to say except, “You’re still hurt, Michael. We have time to decide—”
“No, I don’t need more time,” he said urgently, advancing toward her until they were face-to-face. “I love you, Cecilia.”
She felt both stunned and humbled by those words, but could she believe them? “Michael, I’m not a debt you owe my father.”
“You aren’t anyone’s debt—you’re my wife, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you.” He dropped his cane and took hold of her upper arms. “Nothing is as important to me as you are, certainly not a career. I’ll give it up, Cecilia. I’ll stay here with you, or wherever you’d like.”
Tears burned her eyes, but they weren’t of sorrow. “Oh, Michael, that means so much to me, but listen to what I have to say first. I’ve always felt so safe here, after all the deaths my family suffered abroad. And being in charge only made me more powerful, as if by controlling everything, I could make sure nothing bad happened. But that wasn’t true, was it?” she asked, giving him a sad smile.
He drew her against him. “Cecilia—”
“Let me finish, please. By controlling everything, I held at bay my fears. I think ... I think I slowly grew frightened of the wide world beyond this estate. I barely went to London. Deep inside, I harbored bitterness toward my father that I kept denying to myself. I—I couldn’t forget that the army seemed more important to him than his own family, and I swore to myself that I wouldn’t let that happen to me. If I could control everything, I would be safe. I wouldn’t marry, wouldn’t have children, wouldn’t risk losing anyone else. But what kind of life is that? Maybe Oliver and I each panicked in our own way. But I don’t need his life anymore. I want my own. I want our children—I want you.I love you.”
Smiling, he kissed her cheeks and her forehead. “To hear those words on your lips is the greatest treasure I could ever have,” he murmured huskily.
“I don’t need Appertan Hall and all the estates, and they don’t need me. You may not believe me, but you’ll see—I’ll give up all my money to the estate.”
“I don’t need you to be powerless, Cecilia,” he told her. “You are an intelligent woman who needs a challenge. That money is yours to invest or do whatever with. You deserve to have the kind of life you’ve always wanted because you’ve let yourself suffer under too much guilt. And I haven’t felt it enough, never saw the scope of how many lives my actions affected. My insistence on living as an enlisted man has been my pride talking. I’ve let that rule my life for too long. I’ll purchase a commission with some of the dowry, as you wanted me to. You deserve to be an officer’s wife.”
“Then I’ll see what life is like as an officer’s wife in India.”
His expression grew hopeful as he searched her face, and her smile wobbled with happiness.
“No, Cecilia, I won’t ask that of you.”
“You aren’t asking, I’m telling you. Didn’t you hear what I said? I won’t be afraid of the world anymore, and as you reminded me, I’m not my mother. I’ll come with you to India, and I hope we’ll spend several months of each year here in England. The best of both worlds. We can make that happen, Michael.”
He kissed her then, drawing her up onto her toes until she had to hold him hard to keep herself from falling. They kissed and laughed and tried to talk over each other.
“I’ll need your help, you know,” he insisted. “Allen’s law practice is growing, and I’ll have to take over more of the Blackthorne estate. Who better to run it and see it thrive than you with all your experience?”
“What a challenge!” she cried, flinging her arms wide, knowing he’d catch her. When he drew her back against him, her smile faded, and she cupped his face in her hands. “You make me feel beloved, Michael. You married me when I needed your help, asking nothing in return. I’m asking for your help again. I want to start fresh, to see India throughyoureyes. I want to make sure our children are never afraid of anything.”
They slowly kissed, knowing the whole world awaited them.
