“It sounds more like a life of exile than a life of freedom. I am sent away to the country while Flavion gallivants about London as he always has? Come now, Mr. Nottingham. You can do better than that.”
Mr. Nottingham’s jaw tightened somewhat at her words. She had not meant to goad him. But really, she’d lost everything when she’d married. Most of all, her hope for the future. She would not be sent away and forgotten. Cecily would have thrown something at Mr. Nottingham if she weren’t such a lady now.
Ignoring her taunt, he continued. “Self-respect. You say you want your self-respect. Now tell me, how does a woman scorned regain her self-respect? Does she fritter about from ballroom to ballroom drinking excessive amounts of champagne? Does she heedlessly spend the hard-earned money her father worked for to provide her dowry? Does she never cease her endless pouting and bouts of self-pity?”
She swiped one hand at her eyes. “You don’t know anything.” She would not cry in front of this brute!
Mr. Nottingham grimaced. “I may know more than you think.”
Something in his tone caused Cecily to look up at her husband’s cousin. His eyes shuttered, as he made himself busy shuffling a few wayward papers. Worry etched his forehead, and his jaw clenched again. This was not a person at all pleased with the situation he had found upon returning home.
“Why are you so determined to help Flavion?” she asked. It wasn’t his responsibility, after all. “You are not the earl.”
He stilled his hands and returned her regard. “I told you, he is my only family. I was absent from England when my uncle died, when Flavion needed me most. And now that I’ve returned, I find it nearly too late to assist him. I cannot allow my uncle’s heritage to fall to ruin. Nor can I allow Flavion’s actions to bring about his own demise.”
Cecily tilted her head. This man had an extremely strong sense of responsibility. “You will not always be able to save him. He is a grown man.” She couldn’t help but feel respect for Mr. Stephen Nottingham. Why couldn’t her husband exhibit such strong integrity as his cousin?
Pushing his chair back, he then stood up. He walked around, propped one hip against the side of the desk, and looked down at her. “Flavion’s father, my uncle, took me in as a child. He raised me at though I were his own son. I won’t turn my back on my cousin.” He paused before continuing. “Does that leave us at cross purposes, or can we find some common ground?”
Cecily did not want to let go of her anger — or her hurt. But this man was starting to get to her. “He ought to be punished for his actions,” she said.
Mr. Nottingham nodded slowly, his gaze not wavering from her face.
“He is no longer going to have free access to your dowry. Your father’s stipulations have already seen to that.”
But that wasn’t what bothered her the most. “It isn’t about the money,” she said softly. “It’s about… taking what he wanted with no regard for anybody else, with no regard for my feelings or those of Miss Cunnington. No one has ever done that to me before. I know my father can seem very heartless where business is concerned, but I’ve never seen him do to a person what your cousin did to me. And quite honestly, he has done a considerable wrong to Miss Cunnington as well. If he loved her, he ought not to have married another lady, for any reason.” She raised her fist to her heart and spoke fiercely. “I cannot abide him getting away with it.”
“But he does not deserve to be killed.”
This man was proving to have a most annoying habit — that of being right.
“No,” Cecily agreed half-heartedly, feeling as though all of the fight were leaving her. “I will not allow Papa to have him killed,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t have anyway, and my papa knows this.”
At this statement, Mr. Nottingham’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “Well then, since I won’t be required to deliver his head to you on a platter, we shall simply have to find some other appropriate punishment for him. But will you allow me to assist you in this? Will you send word to your father that you are well, that you are content?”
Cecily searched his eyes. He’d joked about Flavion’s head, but other than that, he clearly was not mocking her. His expression was frank, forthright. His eyes werenotthe same as Flavion’s. After several moments of hesitation, she spoke grudgingly.
“I will send word to my father that matters are improving.”
But that was not enough. “And you will allow me to assist you in avenging Flavion for his actions?”
Cecily leaned forward and placed the receipts and bills he’d dropped into her lap back onto the desk. “Conditionally.”
“The punishment must be subject to your approval?” he asked.
Cecily had remembered something else, though. “Earlier you said that you understood more than I might know. Tell me what you meant.”
Mr. Nottingham glanced down at the receipts she’d placed upon the desk, and she could no longer see his eyes. “You are not the only person in the world to have been betrayed by someone you love.” And with that, he pushed himself away from the desk and walked over to the door, his face suddenly like granite. “I have detained you long enough already, my lady. Perhaps both of us can do some thinking and meet again in a few days’ time to discuss this further.”
Knowing she was being put off, Cecily walked over to the door but paused in the threshold. “Well…” she said knowingly, “…perhaps you might use that betrayal as inspiration for some of that punishment we’ll be doling out.” She turned with a flourish. “Good afternoon, Mr. Nottingham.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Despite being orderedtocease visits to her modiste, Cecily made her way to Madam Chantal’s shop the very next day. Madam was currently working on a few new gowns, which Cecily would not give up. They were her own designs, and she was most excited to see them come to life.
She spoke privately with the dressmaker and instructed that her bills be sent to a Mr. Niles Waverly, her father’s man of business, rather than to her husband. She’d known Niles her entire life, and as the trustee of her personal funds, he would, as always, handle matters discreetly. She felt rather satisfied with herself upon leaving the Frenchwoman’s quaint little shop. She didn’t need Mr. Nottingham to pay her bills.Thank you, Papa!
Once she’d completed her business with Madam, Cecily strolled over to Bond Street, where she met both Sophia and Rhoda at one of their favorite milliners. After showing off their respective purchases, Cecily handed off her packages to the footman who had escorted her, and the three ladies made their way to Gunter’s on foot.
