Page 83 of Unraveled By the Duke
“I do not know how you can be wife to my brother,” Hyacinth was saying as she led her through a grand hall with two magnificent chandeliers overhead. “He is so stony and grumpy. There, I have said it. He is cross more often than not.”
“We were thrown together somewhat, but I have come to…” Celia began, before the words died in her throat.
“Have come to…?” Hyacinth probed with twinkling eyes and a bright smile.
“Appreciate him.”
Hyacinth laughed aloud, and Celia could not help the beaming grin that spread across her face. The young woman’s demeanor was infectious.
Oh, how I wish she could be my sister. She, Aurelia, and I would have so much fun. Hyacinth would fit into my family like a hand into a glove. The twins would simply adore her.
That brought sadness, as any thought of the marriage continuing did. Alexander was her opponent in making their marriage a reality. He was actively pushing against her. When he wasn’t pulling her close.
How infuriating he is!
“Appreciatedis probably the finest compliment I have heard paid to him. Never was a man more misunderstood than my brother. Now, this is what I call the Ash Sitting room because of the lovely view of the old ash tree you get through the window.”
The sitting room was comfortable and strewn with neat reminders of its occupants. An easel near the window, books in a pile on the table as though placed there and picked up frequently. Above the fireplace hung the portrait of a man who looked strikingly like Alexander, though with a face that was rounder and warmer. A woman stood beside him, and a boy in front of both, his arms wrapped around a great hound larger than himself.
Celia stepped closer, seeing Alexander’s eyes in the woman’s, and then gasped as she looked closer at the young boy.
“That is him,” Hyacinth said, “and the hound was, by all accounts, his only childhood friend. Henry.”
Celia stared, entranced. Seeing the savage, steel-faced man she had come to know as an innocent boy was remarkable. Her heart filled with love for the child staring back at her.
If only you knew what the future held for you, young Alexander. Would you change it?
She knew at that moment that she would not. Something in her shifted, broke free of the tight constraints within which it had been held.
Until now, she had acknowledged only her desire for Alexander, her physical need for him. She had told herself that she wished to remain by his side because it would make their strategy to beat the scandal easier to enact. That his handsomeness was a bonus.
Now, she saw her feelings for what they were. Stripped away was the facade that she had maintained. Stripped away was her belief that she would be able to walk away from Alexander if she so chose. She now knew that leaving him or being left by him was simply impossible. The former she could not do. The latter she could not stop, but would leave her bereft and brokenhearted.
Do I love this man? Is that why I fight so hard against his resistance? Why do I feel so happy when Hyacinth and Violet accept me?
“Celia, what is the matter? You are crying!”
Hyacinth’s concerned voice broke through her thoughts. She was holding Celia’s arm tightly.
Celia sniffed and dabbed at her eyes, which had become wet without her realizing. “I think I know what the matter is. I think I’m beginning to understand,” she murmured, not knowing how to explain the complexity of what seemed so simple to the young woman.
“Do not tell me that I am too young to understand, please,” Hyacinth said seriously. “I have heard that every day from Alexander, from the day I could understand English. I think he will always see me as an infant in a swaddling blanket.”
Celia patted her hand. “I will not say it, then. I have a younger sister, and I think she would say the same. I hope I have not treated her so.”
“Let us look away from Alexander’s cherubic face, then continue our tour. Perhaps you mourn for the angel he was and the brute he has become.”
Hyacinth guided her out of the room and further into the house.
“The library next, I think. Perhaps we will find the ogre in his lair. Alexander is fond of his library, though he had to reduce its size.”
“Why is that?” Celia asked.
“Money, of course. I do not understand it, and he has not explained. But I remember my father weeping over volumes before crating them up and sending them off to new homes. I don’t think Alexander finds it any easier.”
They entered the library, a vaulted ceiling of ancient beams overhead. The air smelled of varnish, leather, and old paper. Celia spotted the empty shelves immediately.
“Your father? That would be the former Duke? He was forced to sell parts of his library?”
