Page 12 of Chaperoned By Her Enemy Duke
“Perhaps your comportment lessons worked even better than we had hoped,” Mary said, a tinkle of amusement in her tone as she nudged Cecelia with her shoulder.
“A little too well by the looks of it,” Cecelia sighed. “I just cannot believe that Lord Cumberland of all people would believe such a thing of me.”
At that, Mary raised a brow. “Georgehas not laid eyes on any of us for several years.”
“Nor we him,” Cecelia pointed out. She scowled back at her sister as she added, “We did not judge him so terribly when he stepped through the door.”
“He is a duke,” Mary said, reaching for Cecelia's hand again. This time she did not pull away. “Would anyone dare to judge him terribly?”
Cecelia scoffed. “Not aloud.”
Though I can think what I like of him, truly,Cecelia decided, though in truth, she had no idea what to think of him.
She felt all torn up, her insides twisted in knots at the mere sight of him after all these years.
“Mama is devastated,” Mary sighed, squeezing Cecelia's hand. “Will you not reconsider?”
“I fear that decision is not at all mine to make,” Cecelia said. Whether she liked it or not, it was Lord Cumberland who would have the last say in things.
“All is fair in love and war,” Mary said as if quoting something, and Cecelia rolled her eyes.
“You have had your head in too many books,” she insisted.
“Be that as it may,” Mary said, smiling a little. “War changes people, Cece. We've all seen it. Why not get to know the man George has become before judging him too harshly for his words?”
Cecelia cringed. A part of her, a larger part than she dared admit, wanted to listen. Yet, the rebellious, snubbed little girl inside her was desperately clinging on to her anger.
“What is the worst that could happen?”
Cecelia closed her eyes and imagined for a moment what it would be like to walk into a ball on Lord Cumberland's arm. The imagery was too painful, scary even, and she opened her eyes once more.
“How am I to spend so much time with a man who thinks me frivolous?”
Mary cocked her head as if the answer was quite obvious.
“Can you truly say we do not need his help?” she countered, sounding far older than her tender sixteen years. “Besides, there has always been something between you and him. I'm quite certain he would do anything for you.”
Cecelia's insides twisted all over again.
“Perhaps before,” she sighed and lowered her gaze, “but as you said, war changes people.”
It was more than that, Cecelia knew. The way he had looked at her, so cold and distant, told her as much.
“You must give him a chance,” Mary insisted, and the way she squeezed Cecelia's hand made her look her in the eye once more. Those large blue eyes were almost impossible to deny, and Cecelia had to fight with everything she had not to give in.
“As I said, I do not believe that decision lies at my feet.”
Mary's gaze grew even more pleading. “Will you at least be open to the idea if he is?”
Cecelia inhaled deeply.
“For you, Mother, and Catherine, you know I would do anything,” she said, hoping that when it came down to it, it was true.
Yet, the pain in her stomach left her wondering.Can I really accept his help after all he said?
Chapter 4
The next morning, George was in his study, trying his best not to think about the clause in Lord Flannery's will, when he heard the front doorbell ringing through the house.
