“I know,” Ella said with a grin. “But I had to tell your father first. It was important that he was the first one to know.”
Celeste nodded sagely. “That’s right. He knows everything.”
The duke chuckled and rested his hand on Celeste’s head. “I don’t know nearly as much as you think I do, little one,” he said.
Colette hung back a bit—not that Ella blamed her. If she’d had a mysterious sister arrive, she wouldn’t want to jump all over her, either.
But there was someone missing, someone she wanted to celebrate with, and he wasn’t here. When she looked to Beatrice, she was standing alone with no Dietrich in sight, and Ella couldn’t keep the sadness from rolling through her.
She missed him already, and he wasn’t even gone. At least, not yet. She wouldn’t blame him if that changed, but she would be sad if he left because of her.
Although perhaps it was better if he did.
Because she wasn’t sure what would happen if she saw him again, and she couldn’t kiss him.
Chapter fifteen
Dietrich
Dietrich was a coward—a coward of the worst kind—because instead of staying and watching Ella be happy with her new family, he had gone home to his mother and hidden with her for nearly a week while Ella adjusted.
He’d written a letter to the duke, explaining that he wanted Ella to have a chance to get to know her family without having the option of coming to him if she felt out of her comfort zone. But he had a feeling the duke could see through his flimsy excuse.
Either way, the duke had granted him a week of time at home, and he had enjoyed it as much as one could enjoy anything while having their heart ripped out of their own chest.
His mother had simply laughed at him.
He had tried to complain to her that this wasn’t fair, that his heart should not have gotten so involved in such a short amount of time, and that he was very unhappy about the state of things.
She had laughed at him.
How dare she?
It wasn’t as if she didn’t know what it was like to be in love. She knew, and she still laughed at him.
Dietrich glared at his mother, who was tending the garden across from him.
“Are you ready to go back to your job?” his mother asked.
He scowled at her. “Stop enjoying this.”
“Enjoying what?” she asked. “I am simply gardening with my son. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” he muttered. “You’re enjoying my pain.”
His mother smiled.
“Dietrich, my love, I am your mother. I will never enjoy your pain. I will, however, think it is funny that you are avoiding the girl once again instead of going and doing something about it.”
Dietrich shook his head. “She’s a duchess. There’s nothing I can do about that.”
“As if that’s stopped any of your other friends from finding love.”
She had a point, but at the same time—
“In both of those cases,” he said, “the man was the noble. Beatrice and Sophia were simply common girls who had noblemen fall in love with them. It is quite different for me because I am the one who has fallen for a girl who is far beyond my reach, and I have nothing to offer her.”
“Nothing except your heart,” his mother said softly.
