Page 22 of Her Lion of a Duke
“It may seem unfair,” Cecilia noted, “but refusing to speak to anyone is not exactly going to work in your favor, is it?”
“I will know when I am ready. Until then, I am perfectly happy alone with my bread and cakes.”
Cecilia noticed that, if anything, Beatrice had actually grown thinner, but she did not mention it.
“As for you,” she said, turning to Clara, “have you found a respectable suitor?”
“There are several.” Clara blushed. “My mother cannot believe it. She says that we almost run out of biscuits each morning, seeing how many callers I have. Frankly, I do not know what to do with all of them.”
“Send them away,” Cecilia joked. “Surely there must be one whom you particularly like?”
“Well, there is Lord Haversham, but Mother says that I can find better than an earl. I believe she wants me to marry a duke, the way you did.”
“And is she aware of your affections for Lord Haversham?”
“I believe so, but you know how she can be. She wants the very best for me.”
“Love, I would argue, is the best for you. You deserve nothing less.”
“Is that what you have found?” Emma asked.
Cecilia could swear she heard Clara whisper words of gratitude. “What do you mean?”
“Well, all of this has been quite unexpected. You have known Leonard for years, and yet you have only just decided to be his wife. I would have thought that you would have made this decision long ago.”
“I did not want to be his wife years ago.”
“Then what has changed your mind?”
Emma had always been the only one willing to press Cecilia for information. It was the reason why they were very good friends, but sometimes Cecilia wished Emma were not as strong-willed.
“I decided it was time to grow up,” she responded plainly. “It was all well and good saying that I did not need a husband, but I’ve always known how the ton works. I needed security, so I found it. Leonard needed a wife, so he found one. Truly, there is nothing more to it than that.”
“You were also protecting me,” Clara added. “There was talk of my prospects being harmed by having a bluestocking for a cousin.”
“Precisely. I did what I had to do. That is all this is.”
“If you insist,” Emma said flatly.
The gentlemen passed by at that moment, laughing about something, and Cecilia smiled at once. She liked the sound of Leonard’s laughter; it was something she was hearing more of the more time she spent with him.
She quickly composed herself, but it was too late. Beatrice had already seen her reaction.
“There!” Beatrice hissed, once the men were out of earshot. “You cannot fool me, Cecilia. You are terrible at hiding things.”
“I do not know what you are referring to.”
“Come now, I would recognize that look anywhere. When I go to a tea shop, I spend what feels like hours looking at everything wistfully. I know what I want, and I know what I cannot have, so I pretend not to look at the things I cannot have at all. That is exactly the look you had just now.”
“I was looking at him like he was a dessert?”
“Like you were pretending not to like him. There is nothing to be ashamed of. He is your husband.”
“I would not be ashamed if that was how I felt, but it is not. He is my friend, the way he has always been, and I do not see that changing.”
“What if it does?” Clara asked. “You would tell him, I assume?”
“Of course, I would. When have any of you known me to keep silent? I cannot do it. It pains me terribly.”
