“And so has Gabriel,” Cecilia said. “And he has a child out of wedlock. Are you going to crucify Cassian for a lesser sin than Gabriel has committed but let him go free?”
Her mother’s face went flinty, “I never said that.”
“No, but I know you still slap horns on Cassian while you give Gabriel his wings,” she waved the paper. “I am not signing this.”
“Think carefully, Cecilia,” Marcus warned. “This is your future.”
“Cassian has already given me every provision to be comfortable in my future,” Cecilia said. “I will wait for him. Whether it be a week, a month, or years. Whether I die of old age in Fitzroy Manor as some lonely, pitiful lady. I rather make myowndecisions from now on.”
“You need to marry, Cecilia—” Her mother fisted her wrist and pulled her back into the carriage seat. “It is the acceptable thing in our society!”
“Iammarried,” she reminded and holding her mother’s eyes, tore the annulment agreement in two and then in fours. “I am the Duchess of Tressingham. Now, is there anything else you need?”
“You’ll regret that, sister,” Marcus muttered darkly.
“No, I won’t,” she said. “Turn the carriage around. I wish to return home. And I will walk back if I must.”
Margaret spun to the driver, pausing only to regard Cecilia solemnly. “I sincerely hope this does not come back to haunt you, daughter of mine.”
She swallowed, stared at the fragments of paper, reassured herself, and squared her shoulders. “I spent nearly two years betrothed to a man who did not care a jot for me. I can spend two lifetimes waiting for Cassian.”
CHAPTER 31
TWO MONTHS LATER
Seated at Benjamin Hadleigh’s table—Cassian’s old friend and the Earl of Somerton, now Emma’s new husband—Cecilia sipped her champagne as she celebrated with the recently wedded couple.
They had just returned from their two-week honeymoon in Bath and had invited her, Rosie, and a few more of their friends, including Cecilia’s new bosom-friend Prudence, for a small celebratory dinner at their home.
“Are you all right, Cecilia?” Rosie asked, who was ready to sail off into spinsterhood with aplomb. “You haven’t touched your salmon.”
“I’m fine,” Cecilia assured her friend, watching the diamond on her finger catch the gaslight—the ring Cassian had given her nearly three months ago now.
“Are you sure?” Rosie asked. “I know how the last few weeks have been trying on you.”
“My appetite comes and goes at times, and as for the last couple of months—I’d say they were tense, not utterly trying,” Cecilia replied. “I’ve got a little distraction with renovating the outbuilding at Fitzroy Manor and turning it into a small library for the village orphans. And when Ophelia Hawthorne turned up at my door, bawling her eyes out that Gabriel had abandoned her, too, in favor of Juliette Attenborough, this season’s diamond.”
Rosiehmphed. “And you took her in. You are a saint, Cecilia.”
“She is only a product of Gabriel’s hubris,” Cecilia sighed. “I had tea with her. She apologized for her nasty comments, telling me all the lies Gabriel had spewed to her about me. We put it all under the bridge, and now she is better with him in her past.”
“I am disgusted that a man can still go on to court women with that ghost lingering over him,” Prudence murmured from the side beneath her glass of champagne. “We all know he has a child out of wedlock, but women overlook it for the chance of marrying a duke…”
“Welcome to awoman’sworld,” Rosie shuddered visibly.
“Aw,” someone cooed as Ben kissed Emma on the cheek.
“That’s so sweet,” Pru tilted her head like a kitten.
“I am happy for Emma,” Rosie said wistfully. “She has wanted such a relationship for so long.”
“As am I,” Cecilia smiled.
“…Have you heard from him yet?” Rosie asked quietly.
Taking a sip of smooth champagne, Cecilia said, “No. But I like to believe he knows my heart as well as I know his by now. I asked him to come back to me. I know he will.”
“That’s hopeful, I suppose,” Rosie sighed. “I still cannot believe you ripped up the annulment agreement. I never thought you would defend Tressingham, much less fall in love with him.”
