“I believe Her Grace went out to London, Your Grace,” the footman answered.
“I… see,” Cassian shrugged.It is probably to visit her friends.Still, the pang of disappointment weighed heavily on his heart. Perhaps he would see her later in the afternoon.“See to it that the bath is filled quickly.
He took the stairs up two at a time to his suite of rooms and was greeted by two of his dogs, Atticus and Cerberus; lightning, thunder, and torrential rain were their mortal enemies. They always found their way to his chambers when storms rolled in.
After rubbing their ears, he disrobed the borrowed suit Ben had lent to him and donned a bathrobe. He went for a drink—and spotted a half-empty bottle of brandy on the side table.
A brow ticking up, he laughed, “I’ll get you your own set, my sweet girl.”
After pouring a glass, he went to the bedroom and saw the rumpled sheets and the stray blond hairs on his pillow. A long breath left him while he pressed the heavy glass to his temple.
“What am I going to do with you…” He grumbled.
Cecilia’s demure exterior hid a pure, generous, and fiercely loyal heart. She was quick-witted, absolutely gorgeous, and deep down, she was a lonely soul. He had sensed her loneliness from the start—the very moment they first clashed during her debut, and while he would never admit that that feeling resonated with him, he could not allow her to believe something that was not going to happen.
Lifting the inkpot blotter, he saw the scrawled date of his departure to Europe circled in red ink, and he reminded himself about the annulment agreement Ben still held at the ready.
But do you really want that?
The errant thought had been jumping into his head more often than not of late, and it was beginning to feel like a thorn in his side.
Things weren’t the same, and he hated knowing the truth— Cecilia had gotten under his skin. The same way an earthquake eroded the foundations of a building, breaking up the firm stones and rolling them away, his firm decision to roam Europe free to chase the stars was shifting.
Devil and damn man. Come to your senses; this marriage was set to break from the start.
He had a brief respite during his bath, but when he dressed and had a light meal, the worry returned. Unsettled, he finished and took a glass of wine with him and left for his rooms—only to find himself winding his way to the West wing and staring at the door to her chambers.
He didn’t even try to dismiss the temptation and crossed the room to enter her private domain. From there, he headed to her makeshift study at the corner by a window, and his eyes landed on a letter that had fallen to the floor near her desk.
He saw the heading of Whitmore’s family seal and his overly flourished writing.Come to me, and we’ll talk. I know you cannot resist, Cecilia.
Instantly, his heart felt hollowed out with dread, and chasing it, a hot spike of jealousy rammed right through him. Scarlet flashed across his vision as he slammed his palm down on the note.
He was not jealous by nature, and yet the thought that Cecilia would just run to Whitmore at his sudden beck and call infuriated him. His fists clenched.
Is that why she went to London? Why wouldn’t she have waited for me to return and talk this over?
His eyes landed on the note again, and a sickening feeling began to grow in his gut—against all her empathic declarations otherwise… did she still love Gabriel?
A vivid, unwanted image of Cecilia in Gabriel’s arms, her bodice slipping off her shoulder, his golden head tracing kisses down her skin,her head arching back in bliss—and the fractured snap of glass alerted him, as did the bite of glass shards in his hand.
He stepped back with a grimace at the spilled wine on the desk and floor, the glass shards, and the beads of blood dripping down his palm.
Deep down, he knew what it meant—and it was not good.
“Ah, my dear Cecilia,” Gabriel’s voice had her turning from the line of books in his study. “You’re here.”
The doors parted, and Gabriel strode in. Objectively, Cecilia could see why Gabriel was so desired by the ladies in the ton. His blue suit was molded to his athletic form, and his hair was styled perfectly—but now, she questioned what she had ever seen in him.
The smugness in his voice made shards of ice run down her spine as she turned to see him saunter into the room. She made a point to look over his shoulder to see if Ophelia was going to join them.
When the lady did not appear, she asked, “And where is your fiancée this afternoon?”
“She is out with family, I believe,” Gabriel’s eyes landed on Abigail. “Must you have your maid with us?”
“I’d have half of the Bow Street Runners here with me if I could,” Cecilia hissed. “Stop smearing my name, Gabriel. This is the last time I will ask.”
His chin lifted, “I have said nothing but the truth.”
