“And do you plan to do so before you marry him?” Mama gently squeezed her hand tighter.
“I thought—probably not.”
“The archbishop will not grant a special license if he is unable to verify your eligibility to wed—no matter how well connected Lord Raines is or how much he pays the man.” Her mother’s heavy sigh echoed through the room.
“Since everything about us is based in Germany, I am certain Elias can manage it.” Celia leaned forward, trying to convince herself as well as her mother. “He is a solicitor. Talking his way around things comes naturally.”
“Even if he is able to procure the license, you do realize your marriage will be invalid if you do not use your full legal name?” Mama plucked at the bedcovers and shook her head, growing noticeably more agitated. “I do not wish my grandchildren saddled with the titles of bastards.”
“I will think of something.” Celia hugged herself and felt more frustrated than she had before entering the room. She hadn’t thought of those things even though she knew them as well as Mama. What was wrong with her? How could she hope to hide the truth from Elias when she couldn’t even effectively navigate this first twist in the plot?
“You must tell him, Celia.”
“If I tell him, I will lose him.” Celia covered her face as more tears burned down her face. “I cannot bear the thought of losing him, Mama. I love him.”
Her mother released another heavy sigh. “I am so sorry, my child.”
Sniffing, Celia searched in vain for the handkerchief she always kept tucked into her stays. “Why are you sorry?”
“I am sorry because I thought I was protecting you, but instead, I imprisoned you.” Mama reached into her nightstand, withdrew a fresh handkerchief, and handed it to Celia. “I am sorry, my precious child. I swear to you I never meant you any harm.” She laced her fingers together and rested her hands on top of her blankets. “Tell him, daughter. Tell him everything. Lord Raines appears to be the sort who might know of a way to undo this harm I have brought down upon you.”
The pain and sorrow in her mother’s voice cut through Celia’s heart. She had to be strong, for Mama’s sake—figure this mess out and resolve it so it didn’t make her mother’s journey to the grave any faster. “I love you, Mama, and I’m proud to be your daughter. You came up with a way to protect me, and now it’s my turn to protect you.”
She leaned over and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Sleep well. We have conquered everything in our path thus far. I see no need to fail now.”
Her mother gave her a weak smile and closed her eyes. “Rest well, my courageous one. Tomorrow is another battle.”
Chapter Nine
“You cannot avoidhim forever.” Frannie sat cross-legged on Celia’s bed.
“And your mother refuses to lie any more to Lord Raines about your feeling unwell.” Sophie perched in front of the headboard, slightly rocking as she hugged her knees. “Maman said the poor man is beside himself with worry. This is not fair to him, Celia.”
“If I see him, he is sure to want more information to secure the special license.” Celia also sat cross-legged on the bed, indulging in the very unladylike position since it was just the three of them in their nightdresses. They had gathered before dawn to ensure the utmost privacy. “Mama said he plied her with questions and is very frustrated that he could not get His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury to cooperate until more information—and more coin, I am sure—is provided.”
“A special license would eliminate the waiting for all the banns to be read and the fuss of a church wedding. Very thoughtful of him, I say, considering your mother’s health. With that license, you could marry here at the house in a manner of days.” Frannie glanced over at the closed bedroom door, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “And in my opinion, sooner would be better, since you and he…” She rolled her eyes. “What if you are…” Her concerned gaze dropped to Celia’s middle. “Sooner is better because that could not be ignored in the hopes of it going away.”
Even though Celia agreed with Frannie’s uncomfortably valid points, she didn’t need to be bashed over the head with the reminder. “Lecturing me will not enhance my ability to decide what to do.”
“I fear Frannie’s argument holds merit,” Sophie said. “And you have always been the most pragmatic of us, Celia. Now is not the time to lose your power of reason and cower in your rooms.”
Celia dropped her head into her hands, wishing she could snap her fingers and make all these complications go away. She loved Elias. Just thinking about him made her breathless, and it wasn’t merely a matter of lustful longing. He had snuck into her heart and taken control of it even before their lovely night in the garden.
A heavy sigh escaped. “I cannot imagine what he will do when I tell him the truth. He is a solicitor. If it were discovered that he knowingly supported such a fraud, it would end his career, and a man’s career is his identity—his everything.” She covered her eyes and rocked in place, ready to scream if not for the fact that it would rouse the entire household. She let her hands drop and slowly shook her head. “For his sake, I should release him and send him on his way.” Her heart threatened to break as she decided what she needed to do. “Since I truly love him, I should let him go. And then all our secrets would be safe.”
“But what if a child is on the way?” Frannie reminded her in a hissing whisper.
Celia almost bared her teeth in anger. “Then I will finally have someone in my life whom I cannot harm by loving them.”
“No.” Sophie reached over and gently squeezed Celia’s shoulder. “You have to tell him the truth and give him a chance. He has the right to choose.” She gently shook her. “Love is not so easily found and should never be cast away so lightly. Remember your mother and Master Hodgely? The loneliness they bore all their lives? Tell him, Celia. It is the only way. If you sign that marriage register as Celia Bening, the union will be void because that is not your legal name. I would think discovering such a thing after the wedding would upset him more than hearing the truth before.”
“And you know he won’t leave if you simply send him away with no explanation,” Frannie said. “He is intractable. Remember?”
Celia held up her hands to quiet them. “If he comes to call today, I will not avoid him—but I am not saying that I won’t attempt to stall him until I can think of a way to offer up my explanations in the proper light.”
“Proper light?” Frannie repeated, her tone dubious. “Exactly what sort of light softens a lie?”
Celia cut her a hard glare. “Tell me, Frannie, when you decide to choose a husband, as you said you eventually would, how will you tell him that the Marquess of Ardsmere was never real?”
