“Now is not the time, Cece! As I have said, it is important we make a good impression,” he whispered back, clearly oblivious to her struggle.
“But-” She paused and sighed. He certainly could not be reasoned with at such a moment, so she settled on craning her neck. Memories of her mother correcting her posture filled her mind, but surely Mother would have understood that answers were more important.
“Good evening, everyone, I do apologize for keeping you waiting. There were a few circumstances out of my control which needed attention.”
Cecilia froze slightly as she heard the Duke’s voice loud and clear, echoing through the hall. There was something oddly familiar about it, a resonance that made her heart race.
“It is nothing, we were but standing for only a couple of minutes, it is good to finally meet your acquaintance, Your Grace,” Tristan’s voice carried a smile as he, from the corner of Cecilia’s eye she caught, stretched out a hand.
“Indeed, it’s a pleasure to meet you all as well,” the Duke replied, his voice smooth and confident.
Cecilia couldn’t bring herself to look up any further, her gaze fixed on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath her feet. She felt a chill creep up her spine, an unsettling sense of dread that she couldn’t shake off.
It can’t be.
No, it’s not possible.
She recognized that voice, deep and familiar, but was desperate to deny the reality of the situation. It felt as though the walls were closing in around her, suffocating her with the weight of her own dread.
“Cecilia, dear? Are you alright?” Her grandmother’s concerned whisper did little to shake Cecilia from her thoughts.
“Quite all right, grandmother,” she nodded, however, unable to move an inch still. She listened to the man greet Nathaniel and then her grandmother as well, yet, she could not lift her head.
No, no, no.
Please, no. Let this not be what I think this is.
“Cecilia, dear, could you lift your head to say hello to His Grace?” her grandmother suggested, her tone light and encouraging.
It was finally her turn, however Cecilia remained frozen, her heart racing.
Please, let this be only in my imagination…
At last, against her will, she lifted her eyes, and in that moment, the world around her seemed to come to a halt. The Duke’s gaze locked onto hers, and for a brief second, shock flickered across his features.
It was a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability that vanished almost instantly, replaced by a mask of composure. But his eyes, wide and searching, betrayed him.
“Lady Cecilia?” he spoke, almost in question, his voice low and edged with something she couldn’t quite place.
I’m cursed. I have to have been cursed.
What have I done to deserve this?!
Panic surged within Cecilia as she realized the truth she desperately wished to deny—this was the man she had kissed just a week ago, the stranger whose lips had ignited a chaos and confusion within her that she had tried to ignore.
The room felt deathly silent as she stared at the handsome face before, wishing with all her might it would morph into one she did not recognize.
“Sister, are you all right?” Tristan’s raised brow could almost be heard in his tone as he spoke, his words echoing the quiet room.
“Your Grace,” Cecilia managed to mumble at last, her voice barely audible as she dropped into a curtsey. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Do you know each other?” Nathaniel asked suddenly, glancing between them.
Cecilia’s eyes shifted to the Duke in slight panic.
He wouldn’t, would he?
The man’s lips curled into an almost unnoticeable smirk, but his eyes remained intense. “We’ve… crossed paths once before, I believe,” he replied, his gaze never wavering from Cecilia, a challenge lurking beneath his calm exterior.
