Page 6 of Chaperoned By Her Enemy Duke
Yet, she could not help glancing at the blossom tree once more.
Her heart sank.
He was gone.
Had he even been there in the first place?
She started to question it. After all, why would he have shown his face after all this time? She hadn't seen or heard from him in several years. Nobody had.
The disappointment was there all the same. It crushed in on her chest and made her feel quite nauseous.
No,she told herself firmly.Today is about Daddy.
Lowering her gaze to his grave, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Goodbye, Daddy. I'll do my best to take care of everybody in your absence.”
Just the thought of doing so brought yet more tears to her eyes. She forced them back with a deep gulp and headed off to join her mother and sisters.
Already, people were paying their respects, a huge line of people that seemed to stretch on forever.
They would be here a while, and yet, all she wanted to do was go home and hide in her bedroom. She wished to let out her tears in private, never wishing for anyone else to see them.
Standing silently beside her sisters, she dipped her head in thanks to those who offered their condolences, uttering words only when absolutely required. And for the most part, everyone seemed to have their attention upon her mother, offering their well wishes to the woman who had tragically lost her husband.
Just as the crowd started to thin out, Cecelia's heart stopped all over again.
There he was, coming to the front of the line, his blue gaze utterly unreadable.
And this time she could not deny it. There was no mistaking his being there, for he towered over her mother and sisters like a giant in one of the fairy tales Mary so loved to read.
He approached with a low and respectful bow before taking hold of her mother's hand.
“I am so sorry for your loss, My Lady,” he said, his head still bowed even as he held the countess’ hand in both of his. He glanced at her and her sisters, offering only a bow of his head before he turned his full attention back to their mother.
Cecelia's heart ached.
It had been so long. Just hearing his voice made her wish it was her he was talking to.
Maybe once he had finished speaking with her mother, she might be able to catch him alone. Maybe they might discuss why he had never written her, though she had written several letters addressed to him over the years, in moments when she had been missing their close friendship and that of Walter, his best friend.
Had he ever received them? She had known it would be a long shot during the war. After all, there were so many men away overseas. It was possible her letters had never found him.
“Please, let me know if there is anything you need,” George insisted, his voice sincere.
Cecelia could not help noticing the darkness in his gaze, the lack of emotion where once there had been only a happy, carefree glint.
What must he have seen during his years away?
She had heard enough rumours from the other returning soldiers to know that it couldn't possibly have been anything good.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” her mother responded, removing her hand from his. She clasped her hands together and added, “I was sorry to hear of your father's passing.”
Of course, his own father had passed, leaving him the duke. No wonder there were so many whispers going about the churchyard.
One glance told Cecelia that there were already eager and ambitious mamas sizing him up for their daughters.
It sickened her to think their thoughts would go to such a place on a day like today. The rebellious side of her wished to remind them all what day this was, that their father's coffin had barely been lowered into the earth, yet she remained silently supporting her mother and sisters, forcing herself to take the condolences of those who stepped up to meet her.
Still, she had one eye on the duke, hoping and praying that he would even glance in her direction again.
