Page 63 of Her Lion of a Duke
“Of course. I know that your favorite instrument is the violin, and that you cannot stand conflict, even if you find yourself in the middle of it far more than most. I know that you like to write, even if you refuse to share it with me.”
Lady Punton’s face softened, and she tucked a stray curl behind Cecilia’s ear with a sad smile.
“And I also know,” she added gently, “that you do whatever you please. I have always envied you for that. Most do.”
“Most hate it.”
“They hate you for it, which is not quite the same. You have always been your own person, regardless of what anyone thinks of you. It has frightened us many times and disturbed others, but that does not mean you are impossible to understand. I know that I have not been the best mother, but that is only because I have never known anyone like you. I did not know where tostart, not when you have always been so certain of who you are. There was no changing you.”
Cecilia laughed shakily. She had been a menace since she learned to walk, stampeding through the house with such furor that nobody could stop her. She read every book in their library, ran faster than anyone her age, and argued better. It was not that she felt inferior and was therefore compelled to work harder than anyone else. It was simply who she was—an overachiever with too smart a mouth.
Perhaps her mother was right. Maybe it had been envy that she had seen in others, not spite.
“The ladies of the ton must hate me now, if they did not before,” she mumbled. “They will all see me as the lady who did not care, no matter what. And now that I am a duchess, they will be doing all they can while watching me have everything they want, and not one of them will think I deserve it.”
“And what about you?” her mother asked, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. “Do you think that you deserve it?”
Cecilia wanted to say yes. She wanted to say that she had been the only person to see Leonard for who he truly was, the only one to befriend him when he was not a duke. Shesawhim when others looked through him, and so if he were to take a wife, objectively, she would be his first choice.
And yet she knew the truth.
She had been lying to him for years. She had written essays discussing his standing in Society, and though she had never named him, there were pieces of him every time she wrote. It was her fault, and yet she had never been able to stop herself from thinking about him.
She thought of one especially egregious piece that she had once written, one of her most popular, which spoke of murder being used to inherit titles that were not meant to be inherited. She felt ice slither under her skin, knowing that Leonard had read it, and he was now adamant on finding the culprit.
How long did she have?
“I do not know,” she whispered.
“Oh, dearest.” Her mother embraced her. “Of course you do. You deserve everything you have and more. If those in Society want what you have, then they have every right to take it for themselves. They were content with what they took, and you never were. You always wanted more, and now you have it. We may not have always seen eye to eye, but you need to know just how proud I am of you.”
Cecilia smiled, blinking back tears, and thanked her mother profusely. Every word was true; she had wanted more, committed the sin of gluttony over and over, and she had everything. Now, she deserved everything she would get as a consequence.
She could not eat her meal. They had prepared her favorite—roasted beef with all the trimmings—but all she could do was stare at it.
Gluttony. Why was I never satisfied unless I had it all?
“Eat, dear,” her father urged after a while. “I know that you do not travel well, but it will be worse if you journey on an empty stomach.”
“I did not know that you dislike traveling,” Leonard noted.
It was an easy excuse, at least.
“I have gotten better since I was a child,” Cecilia explained. “My mother will enjoy telling you of all the times I screamed at every bend in the road when I was a girl.”
“I still have trouble hearing with my right ear,” her mother joked. “You insisted on sitting between us, after all.”
“I do not scream now, at least,” Cecilia pointed out. “Though I cannot say I particularly enjoy all of it.”
“I thought that you wanted to travel the world?” Leonard arched an eyebrow. “We have planned our first tour, no?”
“That is different,” Cecilia explained, laughing. “Once I am there, I am very happy. I enjoy visiting different destinations, but thejourney itself is not always exciting. It is a burden I will bear, however.”
“You are so courageous.” Leonard smiled.
She found the ability to eat her meal at last, but there was no denying the awful feeling in her stomach. They would soon be leaving, and that meant she would have to think of a way to explain herself.
She could not let the truth go unsaid for too long, even if she did not know the first thing about confessing something so heinous.
