“I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied evenly.
Exasperated, Evie turned to their mother, who remained silently observing the exchange while delicately eating her dinner. “Mother, can’t you help me here? Surely you see how oddly the duke is behaving!”
Lydia looked up, her expression calm and measured. “I cannot say anything more than I already have, Evangeline. You know my stance on the matter.”
Evie groaned, her frustration palpable. “This is not fair!”
“It’s not lady-like to frown and pout, dear,” Lydia reprimanded gently, a hint of amusement almost noticeable in her voice as she continued to eat.
Evie’s face contorted for a moment, as if she might explode with indignation.
Oh no.
Alistair raised an eyebrow, noting the storm brewing behind her eyes. His sister was hopelessly in love, that much was certain, and it both worried and intrigued him.
“Fine,” she finally muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. With that, she returned to her plate, pushing her food around with growing agitation.
Alistair felt a wave of relief wash over him; she had chosen silence over confrontation. Their mother was a strict woman,and while she cared deeply, he knew that a clash between both would not end well.
“I hope you find reason with my actions,” Alistair tried again, softening his tone slightly. “I only want what’s best for you.”
However, his sister did not bother giving him a response. Alistair sighed inwardly. Guilt chewing away at him.
No, this is all that Lady Cecilia’s fault.
I did all I did because of her, after all.
The dining table was quiet for a moment, then Lydia spoke up at last, breaking the silence with a tone that carried both authority and excitement. “I’ve invited Alistair’s future wife, Diana Kingman, Daughter of the Marquess of Blackbrook. She’ll be arriving in a few days.”
“Future wife?” This was enough to pull him from thoughts of Cecilia and Alistair raised a brow, his fork pausing mid-air. “Mother, I haven’t even met this woman yet, isn’t giving her such a title a bit forward?”
Lydia brushed aside his protest with a wave of her hand, her eyes sparkling with conviction. “Oh, Your Grace, you must trust me on this. She is exactly what you are looking for—a perfect duchess. It is settled.”
“Settled?” he echoed incredulously, leaning back in his chair. “And if she’s unbearable? What if we don’t get along?”
“Alistair,” Lydia replies, her tone now firm, “I’ve looked into Diana already. She has impeccable lineage, a charming personality, and a keen mind. You have nothing to worry about.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Honestly, Your Grace, I’m surprised you’d even question,” Lydia went on with a lilt in her voice. “You asked me to find you a perfect wife, and connection was hardly on your list of priorities.”
Alistair’s brow furrows deeper, realization springing on him. “I did not feel it would matter, yet now…” He trailed off, the weight of his mother’s words sinking in.
“Now you realize it’s not all about titles and lineage?” Lydia pressed, her gaze boring into him accusingly. A silence followed as the duke contemplated his change in wants.
“Remember, connections can grow,” Lydia spoke steadily. “I believe that if you give her a chance, you might be surprised. As I have stated, titles forming a good match are of utmost importance. Yet, a love match would be a most welcome addition as well.”
Alistair’s mother’s voice droned on, a steady stream of advice and expectations, but his mind was elsewhere.
He couldn’t shake the memory of Cecilia’s daring kiss, now her lips had ignited something deep within him. He was full of rage at the thought that a random lady could provoke such shock nor a out of character reaction from him at all.
A nagging feeling tugged at his thoughts, an insatiable hunger for more of that wildness. It bothered him, it felt like for the first in a very long time, there was something he could not control.
CHAPTER 6
“Cece…”
“Cece, did you hear what I said…”
“Cecilia?”
