“Your Grace, I truly cannot thank you enough for everything,” Tristan spoke with a genuine smile as he clasped Alistair’s hand firmly. The morning sun cast a golden hue over the snow-covered Holloway estate.
Alistair’s smile was of equal warmth, his dark hair tousled by the gentle breeze. “It was a pleasure, truly. It gladdens me that our families truly bonded during your stay.”
He glanced around at their gathered families, the laughter and chatter creating a bittersweet symphony in the air.
His heart was heavy as he turned his gaze toward Cecilia. She stood a few paces away, the way she smiled filling him with an indescribable ache, knowing this might be their last moment together for a while.
“I shall miss you so much, dearest Cece,” Evie spoke, her voice quivering slightly as she wrapped her arms tightly around her friend.
Cecilia chuckled softly, trying to lighten the moment. “Oh, there is nothing to worry! I shall still come around for all the wedding preparations. I wouldn’t miss that for the world!”
Evie pulled back slightly, looking into Cecilia's eyes, searching for reassurance. “It’s just… it won’t be the same without you here every day. Everything feels different already.”
Cecilia’s smile faltered for just a moment. I t felt as though there was a weight behind Evie’s words. “I know what you mean,” Cecilia replied, her voice softer now.
Evie nodded, “But you promise to keep in touch, right? No matter what?”
“I’m not gone yet, Evie, we have the weeks before your wedding,” Cecilia laughed then assured her, squeezing Evie’s hands tightly, “Always,” As they embraced once more, the warmth of their connection echoed, and Alistair pulled his eyes away.
The dowager duchess’s tone was light as she smiled at the Evertons, “It truly was a wonderful time. Hopefully, our families shall get to spend more time and adventures ahead.”
“Adventures? What adventures?” the dowager countess interjected, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion, “I thought we were just going to the market!”
A ripple of chuckles erupted among the group and as they continued to exchange final hugs and warm embraces, Alistair found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. He stepped closer to Cecilia, his heart racing, unsure of how to say goodbye. Their eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, everyone else seemed to disappear.
“Your Grace,” Nathaniel approached, pulling Alistair’s attention momentarily, his grip firm as he shook Alistair’s hand, “We shall meet again in a few weeks.”
“Indeed,” Alistair’s tone was half-hearted as his gaze remained fixed behind the man.
As soon as Nathaniel stepped aside, he moved to Cecilia, who stood a few paces away, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. The air between them felt heavy, charged with unspoken words and lingering glances.
“Miss Everton,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes held so much emotion, and for a second, it felt like she was struggling with what to say. Alistair felt his heart race, longing to say everything he had kept bottled up inside.
“It was a pleasure to get to know you,” he finally managed, the words tasting bittersweet on his tongue.
“And you too, Your Grace,” she replied, her voice a whisper as well.
A silence hung heavily between them. Alistair could feel the eyes of Evie and Nathaniel standing a few feet away on them, sensing the awkwardness that had enveloped the yard. Then with one last lingering look, Cecilia flushed lightly and turned around, moving to stand by her elder brother by the carriage.
The group continued into an uneasy silence. Then, at last, Nathaniel, trying to lighten the mood, let out an awkward laugh. “Well, I suppose we should take our leave now.”
The Evertons exchanged quick smiles with Alistair’s family before climbing into their carriage. Alistair watched with a heavy heart, feeling as though a part of him was leaving with them.
“Goodbye, Cecilia!” Evie called out, waving with a forced cheerfulness that only highlighted the somber atmosphere.
Alistair stood there, feeling utterly broken as the carriage rolled away, the sound of wheels on cobblestones echoing in his mind. He watched his mother and sister wave slowly, unable to move his hand as well, his heart aching terribly.
He turned sharply, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on his shoulders. He felt as if the world around him had dimmed, the bright whites of the garden now muted and dull.
With each step toward the door, he fought against the tide of emotions threatening to drown him. His thoughts were a mess as he headed straight for his study, pushing through the threshold, the familiar scent of polished wood and aged books welcoming him.
He intended to lock himself away, burying his thoughts beneath a mountain of estate matters and paperwork. Yet, as he settled into his chair, the quill poised between his fingers, his mind betrayed him.
The image of Cecilia lingered, her laughter echoing in his ears, the way her soft skin sparkled in the sunlight, and the warmth of her smile igniting something deep within him.
It would never have worked out.
Forget about her.
