Cecilia couldn’t help but notice how his broad shoulders tensed under the weight of the moment, the flickering of his expression. She fought against the unwelcome thought that he looked undeniably handsome, even in such frustration.
The man has good looks and an awful behavior.
Don’t let yourself be so vain, Cecilia.
The silence was haunting, but she braced herself for the inevitable argument, knowing his pride would push back fiercely. Each heartbeat echoed in her ears as they held locked gazes.
“And what is your standing here to disapprove of what I said?” The duke’s voice was steady, but Cecilia could sense the underlying tension despite his composure. His dark eyes were like slits, and she noticed how his fingers drummed against the table, betraying the calm.
She leaned forward, her heart racing as she replied, “The same question could be asked about your standing in dictating the couple’s wedding, Your Grace.”
A slight cough came from her grandmother, and Cecilia’s heart skipped a beat. She felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks, but she couldn’t back down now. She held Alistair’s piercing gaze, the intensity of it making her pulse quicken.
“All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t get so involved in the wedding planning. It’s for Nathaniel and Evie to decide,” She attempted to ease the tension, “Besides, isn’t it all stressful to do so?”
Alistair’s expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he glanced around the table, as though questioning if anyone else was as irritated as he was. “As I’ve said, I simply wish to do things the right way,” he announced, his voice clipped as if he were dismissing her concerns entirely.
Cecilia felt a surge of frustration. She refused to let him brush her off. “Right for whom, Your Grace? You or them?” she pressed, her tone unwavering.
She drew in a short breath as his eyes shifted back to her, blazing, his jaw tightening as he braced himself against the table, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his crisp white shirt.
“As Evangeline’s brother, I have every right to dictate how her wedding will go. This is my business,” he declared matter-of-factly as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The flickering candlelight danced across his sharp features, emphasizing the tension radiating from him.
Cecilia frowned. “And I’m Nathaniel’s sister, Your Grace. I have a say in this too, yet I do not attempt to-”
“You would compare us?” The duke looked disgusted at the thought. “I am my sister’selderbrother and the head of the Holloway estate, I own more standing in this matter, this is not up for discussion.”
“Yet this not change the basic facts on what is right and what is not,” unable to help herself, Cecilia countered still.
“Enough,” Tristan interjected suddenly, his voice cutting through the thick tension that had settled over the room. He tilted his jaw, a gesture that had become all too familiar in moments of conflict. “This wedding is something sacred, something that should be discussed between the couple at a later time.”
A light laugh escaped him, an attempt to diffuse the charged atmosphere. “Cecilia’s just always been so passionate,” he added, glancing toward their brother for support, “We all want what’s best for the couple.”
Nathaniel remained silent, his discontent obvious. His arms were crossed tightly, and his brow furrowed as he stared at the table. The air grew heavier, the silence stretching uncomfortably, and Tristan’s smile faltered slightly under the weight of it.
“Come on, Nate,” Tristan urged, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s all in good spirit, right?” He shot a sideways glance atCecilia, who was visibly bristling at the attempt to downplay her concerns.
“This matter has been decided,” Alistair’s tone was snappish at this point. He shook his head vehemently, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead. “The couple will not have a large wedding.” He pursed his lips. “And considering the scandals I’ve heard from the groom’s inability to make steady decisions, I shall handle everything.”
There it is.
“Brother!” Evie’s quiet whisper was sharp.
Cecilia’s eyes shifted to her brother to find an expression on his face akin to him being physically slapped across the face. She swallowed the angry words that threatened to spill.
Nathaniel had explained the situations with his fleeting scandals to the duke, this she knew because he had said so, and it was obvious a man like Alistair would hardly let his sister get married to someone without assurances.
How low! Despite knowing the truths behind it all, he’s bringing this up to prove a silly point!
Her eyes widened in disbelief at the man’s stubbornness, “Everyone can tell that it remains out of anyone, mainly the couple’s choices to make concerning their wedding.”
Alistair’s expression twisted into a fearful anger, his words dripping disdain as he regarded her,“Tell me, do you speak for everyone, Lady Cecilia? Are you always this forward?”
Cecilia felt her heart race, she opened her mouth to counter, but Alistair’s next words came out like a whip as he chuckled emptily. “Then again, it’s not surprising to see you act this way.”
The insult hung in the air, and Cecilia’s mouth snapped shut, a wave of surprise followed by embarrassment washing over her.
She caught Tristan’s eye from the corner of her vision; he lifted a brow, silently questioning the remark. Panic surged within her as she realized the implications of the moment.
