The memory of the man’s warm lips lingered in her mind, a maddening contrast to the irritation that coursed through her veins. He had been arrogant, his smirk grating on her nerves, yet there had been sparks, an undeniable heat that sent her heart racing. She shook her head, trying to dispel the thought.
“Cecilia, are you quite all right?” Tristan’s voice wafted to her ears again, breaking her concentration.
“Perfect,” she snapped, her voice sharper than intended. The urgency of her emotions was palpable, as she fought to keep her composure.
She watched Nathaniel laugh once more, completely unaware of the chaos he had caused.
Why I ought to… smack that grin off his perfect, happy-looking face…
CHAPTER 3
“If you must know in all honesty, I’m pouting because I’d rather be home communing with my bushes than spending the day with the man known as the Hollow Duke,” Cecilia huffed, crossing her arms defiantly as the carriage rattled along the uneven road.
Tristan chuckled from the opposite bench. “Oh come now, Cece. You’d choose communing with your bushes under any circumstance.” He drawled teasingly, “You know you’d miss all the excitement. Think of the magnitude of aristocratic charm compared to your precious bushes.”
“Excitement? You mean the thrill of watching Evangeline fawn over our brother while I’m stuck in a corner with the duke’s likely hollow relatives as he is?” she retorted, rolling her eyes dramatically.
“It is just but the two of them, sister,” Nathaniel chimed in at last with a chuckle, “I made this clear. The dowager duchessunfortunately wouldn’t be able to make it as she’s out of town as well. Also, do refrain from judging the man considering you are yet to meet him.”
“Oh, but we have all heard the rumors, Nathaniel dearest, your sister’s biases are not merely based on a gentle breeze of murmurs. ” T heir grandmother, Louisa Everton, the Dowager Countess of Silvermere sat clutching Tristan’s hand across the carriage floor, as she wagged a light finger at Nate.
“Oh, but grandmother, she truly has not even met him yet!” Tristan teased, leaning closer with a conspiratorial grin. “The man might be delightful! Or at least, he might have some entertainingly eccentric habits. She could take notes for her next garden essay.”
“Or I could write a story about the family dinner,” Cecilia shot back, trying to suppress a smile. “His manners could be the stuff of nightmares. If Miss Shelley can publish such spine-chilling tales, perhaps I can do the same.”
Their grandmother, seated beside her, chuckled softly. “You’re far too dramatic, my dear. I remember when I was your age, we had to endure the most dreadful soirées. But you might be surprised; sometimes, it’s the unexpected moments that bring the most joy.”
“Joy? In a house of nobles?” Cecilia sighed, but a flicker of mischief danced in her eyes. “Would you say our house is full of joy, brother?”
“I am glad you know you pester too much for us to have a joyous home, sister,” he squinted his eyes at her, causing Cecilia to laugh.
“There is a bright side to this situation, we can rest assured you would be able to dazzle the Holloway home with your wit, sister,” Tristan replied, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “However, you must remember to keep your tales of herbs and bushes stories to a minimum. We wouldn’t want them to think you’re a complete savage.”
“Savage? I’ll have you know that I’m an esteemed scholar of botany,” she protested, her indignation fading into laughter once more. “I could teach them a thing or two about the virtues of wildflowers. It’d be nice to have someone listen for once.”
“Ah yes, the virtues of wildflowers,” Tristan said, feigning a yawn. “I’m sure that’ll win their hearts. Just don’t let them catch you talking to the bushes, or they might think you’ve lost your mind. The animals in the bushes are not exempted from this either.”
He laughed, leaning back against the carriage seat with an exaggerated smirk, “Honestly, sister, if you spent half as much time studying actual plants instead of chasing rabbits, you might learn something useful.”
“You saw me one time with them, brother,” Cecilia shot him a glare, her cheeks flushing. “You think it’s easy? Those rabbits are elusive! They’re practically knights in the garden.”
“Enough, you two,” Nathaniel shook his head as he interjected, looking desperate to maintain some semblance of peace. “Cece’s research is important. It is the work our parents’ left behind after all. Brother, you might learn something if you paid attention instead of trying to provoke her.”
“Right, because you certainly find them so riveting whenever she begins her explanations,” Tristan shot back, rolling his eyes. “You’d rather listen to a rabbit’s opinion on the weather.”
Louisa, who had been quietly observing the exchange, suddenly perked up. “Where are we going again? I seem to have misplaced my memory along the way,” she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“We’re off to the Hollow Duke’s estate, Grandmother,” Nathaniel replied patiently, suppressing a smile. “You’ve reminded us about ten times already.”
Cecilia smiled. With age, came a slight forgetfulness in the Countess, yet she remained a joy to be around, always giving out the best advice.
“Ah, yes! The Hollow Duke,” Louisa mused, squinting out the window. “Is he the one with the peculiar hat or the one who collects spoons?”
“Both, actually,” Tristan chimed in, seemingly unable to resist. He patted his grandmother’s arm affectionately. “But don’t worry, I’m sure one of them will have a rabbit for Cecilia to chase, she would not lack in what to keep her entertained.”
“Tristan!” Cecilia exclaimed, her voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Drop the topic for once, brother. You’re making it sound like I’m some sort of lunatic.”
“Perhaps not a lunatic, but definitely a rabbit enthusiast,” he teased, grinning widely.
