Page 10 of Chaperoned By Her Enemy Duke
George's mouth fell open, and only when Cecelia's own mouth did the same, did he recompose himself.
“There must be some mistake,” George protested, holding out his hand for the pages Mr Jones was holding.
Silently, the gentleman offered the will to George, and he skimmed it quickly.
“There is no mistake, Your Grace,” Mr Jones stated, even as George saw it there written before him in black and white.
“This … this says she is to find a husband within the year,” George said, his heart skipping a beat at the thought.
Mr Jones nodded. “That is correct.”
“And I … I am to be her chaperone?” he said the words to try and make sense of them, and yet, he only felt all the more baffled.
Why would the earl do something like this?
“That is correct,” Mr Jones repeated and yet, George still could not bring himself to believe it.
Chapter 3
The term flabbergasted did not do justice to how Cecelia was feeling.
She stared at Lord Cumberland uncontrollably. Unable to believe that this man, this duke, was the man her father had chosen to be her chaperone.
The boy she had once known seemed completely gone, replaced by a cold and distant stranger, one she could not imagine walking through a park with, let alone attending a ball on his arm.
He stared back at her, his blue eyes stormy, and yet it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
There had to be some mistake. This could not be happening.
And so, she turned to Mr Jones and lay bare her feeling, “There must be some mistake, sir. The mourning period has not yet been observed.”
The solicitor's smile was gentle, perhaps a little sad. “Be that as it may, there is no mistake, My Lady.”
Even as she shook her head, he added, “This was your father's final wish for you.”
Silence fell in the room, and it seemed as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for someone else to show their reaction first.
Cecelia never expected it to be him.
“I cannot,” Lord Cumberland announced. “I do not have the time to be chaperoning frivolous young ladies at balls. I have my own affairs to see to.”
His words cut like a knife to Cecelia's chest, and she couldn't not bring herself to look at him again.
Was that really what he felt about her? That she was frivolous? That she was just like all the other young ladies of theton? Did he not remember her as she had beenbefore?
That horrid familiar sensation of tears pricking her eyes came creeping in, yet she would not allow anyone to see it as she said, “Of course. Lord Cumberland is busy. It is a ridiculous notion. The mourning period must be observed. It is the custom for us to remain at the house.”
Mr Jones nodded his acknowledgement. “All I can do is give you your father's wishes. I cannot force you to adhere to them, though I will tell you one thing. It states if you do not, that if you do not marry within the year, your dowry shall be lost to you.”
Cecelia's face grew cold, and she knew that all the colour had to have drained from her cheeks. Her hands began to tremble, and her fingers grew numb.
“This cannot be,” she protested, “Daddy would never do such a thing.”
She heard the rustling of papers and glanced to see Lord Cumberland reading the will once more.
Lord Cumberland,that was how she had to think of him now. He was a duke, a stranger, and an outsider. He was not the boy who had left her all those years ago.
It was better this way.
