Page 17 of Surrender Your Grace
“Honestly, the highlight of my debut,” she continued, her expression softening, “has been all the wonderful new friends I’ve made, including your sister who is ever so engaging and funny. Did you know Maggie was intent on introducing us that evening? She thought we would suit. That was before Elizabeth… well, prior to, um…”
She went quiet, no doubt recalling the disastrous night, as did he.
“Before her twisted scheme and feather-headed behavior changed the course of both our lives?” he finished for her.
With eyes as round as saucers, she looked at him in surprise. “Well… yes. I wouldn’t have put it quite that way, however.” Then she giggled. “I might have said ninny-hammered, for she certainly is that.”
It was his turn to stare in surprise, and soon they were both laughing. Despite the lack of humor or promise at the start of their marriage, Andrew took their shared mirth as a good omen.But they had more groundwork to lay. She was clearly on edge, having barely touched her soup and only the barest forkful of fish.
“If you’re feeling out of sorts, we can skip the rest of dinner,” he offered.
She looked up with a start. “Excuse me?”
“You look rather pale, and you’re only picking at your food.” he said, voice low, meant for her ears alone.
She set her fork aside. “I'm… a little overwhelmed, I must admit. The staff. The house. The… rest of it.”
There was a beat of silence, before he agreed. “It has been a taxing week.” Andrew wiped his mouth with his linen napkin then rose. “Shall we retire early? It might do us both good.”
Eyes wide, she stared at him before stammering, “I… uh… shall be… content to… well, uh… follow your lead, my lord.”
He said nothing when his title tumbled from her lips yet again, tamping down his annoyance as he reminded himself she was but eighteen, had made her debut only a few months ago, and was new to the roles of wife and lady of the manor. Her head must be spinning from all the changes.
“Oh, dear heavens,” she moaned, closing her eyes as she realized her mistake once again. “I meant Andrew, of course.”
“It will come,” he assured her as he rose and proffered his hand, surprised by the delicate tremble as she laid her fingers in his. She was trying—awkwardly, but earnestly. And, for tonight, that would be enough.
Chapter 6
Cici perched on the edge of the plush chaise in her new bedroom. Cream and sage hues softened the space, and rosewood paneling gleamed in the lamplight. Candles flickered on the mantel, casting dancing shadows across the gilt-edged screen and velvet drapes framing open windows. Despite the beauty, she felt dreadfully out of place.
As the hour grew late, the grand house quieted. Her maid had brushed out her long hair and helped her undress then left her alone in the unfamiliar bedchamber. Cici had expected Andrew soon after—but, as minutes dragged on, he failed to appear.
When a discreet knock finally sounded, her stomach twisted. Andrew was about to make her his wife in truth. Her mother had offered only vague talk of duty, of obligation, of closing her eyes and thinking of cream cakes, lavish balls, and rose gardens. No one had said how it would feel to share a bed with a veritable stranger—his name still unfamiliar on her tongue, his ring foreign on her finger.
The knock came again—louder. Once then twice.
She rose, her nightrobe brushing the floor, slippers whispering on the carpet. When she opened the door, her heart lurched. It wasn’t him.
A young maid, face composed but eyes pitying, stood with a folded note. She curtsied. “From his lordship, my lady.”
Her fingers trembled as she opened it.
Cecilia,
You’ve had a long day. A new home. New responsibilities. A new title pressed upon your shoulders. I won’t ask more of you tonight.
Rest well,
Andrew
She read it twice in search of some hidden meaning. The maid waited.
“No response—” Cici murmured, throat tight. Then she cleared it and lifted her chin. “Thank you, uh...”
The girl bobbed again. “Mary, my lady.”
Cici came close to rolling her eyes. She should have guessed.
