Page 12 of Surrender Your Grace
She swallowed hard, fingers gripping the folds of her skirt. Elizabeth had put her in dire straits, yet again.
He stepped closer—not looming, but certain—reaching down and tilting her chin up with the barest pressure.
“You needn’t fear me. I expect respect, but I give it in kind. I also grant freedom within the bounds of trust—but that trust must be earned. Is that clear?”
Cici nodded too quickly. Then, slower: “Yes, Andrew.”
“I don’t demand perfection, Cici,” he said, the warmth in his tone surprising her. “If you behave as a lady should—with grace and decorum—you will have nothing to worry about.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. The gesture was unexpectedly tender—an unsettling contrast to the weight of his promise. His touch lingered a moment, then he stepped back.
“You have forty-five minutes before the staff introductions. Refresh yourself—but know that I value punctuality.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and exited, closing the door behind him with quiet finality.
Cici sat frozen for a moment, her skin prickling as if from a draft that wasn’t there. His words unsettled her, yet something inside her hummed—not fear, but awareness.
Her husband was a paradox. One moment issuing rules and consequences, the next kissing her forehead gently. He wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t indifferent. He was something else entirely: firm, magnetic, and unlike any man she’d known.
It was dizzying, trying to reconcile the man who set boundaries with the one who offered tenderness and warmth.
Just a week ago, she’d been a debutante, her days filled with luncheons and promenades with her friends, the heady scent of London’s theatres, and dirt-stained fingers from plucking blooms, and often weeds in the garden. Invitations included her out of politeness, but she attended only the events she fancied—never to parade, but to observe. Her family, for the most part, had paid her little heed.
Now, such leniency had vanished.
Elizabeth, who engineered the mess she was in, had escaped with a few strokes across her skirts and returned to her pampered life. No rules. No husband with expectations and consequences. Just ribbons and teas and a string of admirers unaware of her sins.
The room suddenly felt smaller, the air tighter, as something hot and sharp climbed up Cici’s spine. She snatched a pillow from the bed and hurled it across the room. She expected something—a crash, resistance, or to at least vent her spleen. Instead, it landed with a whisper, as unsatisfactory as her ineffectual protest.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Yes?” she called, breath short.
“It’s Mary, my lady. Mr. Higgins sent me to assist you.”
“Please come in,” Cici replied, her face heating further when the maid opened the door and the pillow glided across the floor.
Without so much as blinking, the maid stooped, picked up the proof of her tantrum, and placed it back onto the bed.
“I require water for washing, Mary, and a dress to be pressed. It must be done swiftly, as I am expected to meet the staff within the hour,” she added, recalling her lordship’s dislike of being made to wait.
“Hot water is on the way up, and one of the other girls is heating the iron. All my lady must do is choose which gown,” she reassured.
Cici nodded, pleased with the girl’s forethought and efficiency. It was a small silver lining in an otherwise disappointing day.
Chapter 5
With no time for a bath, she washed the road dust from her face and hands, changed into a fresh gown suitable for tea and dinner, and sat at the vanity while Mary brushed and re-pinned her hair.
She stood ready as the mantel clock chimed the three-quarter hour—fifteen minutes to spare.
“Is there anything else, my lady?” the very capable Mary asked.
“Only a question. You are so efficient. Why aren’t you in another lady’s service?”
“There were no positions when we moved nearby, so I joined his lordship’s staff as an upstairs maid. If it pleases you, a word to Mr. Higgins would let me serve as your lady’s maid until the official one arrives.”
“I shared a maid with my sister—she stayed in London with her. If you’re agreeable and available full-time—”
