Sophia made a half grin and looked down shyly, “He is not nearly as… demonstrative as some gentlemen, but he is such a wonderful person. He is not overly demanding. And his manners with me are always impeccable.”
Cecily reached over and embraced Sophia in a tight hug. It sounded as though Lord Harold was exactly what Sophia needed. Even if he didn’t sound very exciting… Cecily had always thought Lord Harold, although quite handsome, was withdrawn and overly solemn. The thought flitted through her mind that she’d thought Stephen a very serious-minded man, but he had turned out to be warm and sweet and fun! And he had not been without a sense of humor. Perhaps Lord Harold possessed another side as well. She hoped he did for her friend’s sake, for Sophia was a girl who needed frivolity and laughter in her life.
“I am so happy for you! Tell me everything. What did he say? What were you thinking? Did you know of his intentions beforehand?”
Sophia launched into a breathless narrative describing the few highlights leading up to a proposal from her now fiancé. Lord Harold had confessed to having been in love with Sophia since first setting eyes on her two years ago. It had taken him this long to get up the courage to pay his addresses to her. Sophia had been charmed by his confession.
Cecily finished her tea and had eaten a few of the artfully made cucumber sandwiches by the time Sophia was done. A satisfied silence ascended on the table when Sophia stopped talking and gazed at the ring upon her hand.
“And what of your prospects, Rhoda?” Cecily asked. They had not seen much of each other over the last month.
Rhoda merely shrugged and looked out the large window that made up an entire wall of the teahouse. “I had thought… but nothing, really. My father is going to stay in London after the Season is over, though. I think I might remain here with him. Mother and Lucille are going to Bath, and I cannot abide such dreary surroundings.”
Emily, who had already explained that she would be visiting relatives in Wales when the Season ended, turned the attention to Cecily. “What of you? Are you still in love with Mr. Nottingham?”
Cecily swallowed and then… lied. “I have come to realize that I am rather fickle when it comes to love. Mr. Nottingham has left Nottinghouse. I believe he is no longer in London, but Flavion and I do not keep tabs of his whereabouts. Flavion and I will be traveling to Surrey tomorrow. We have come to an… understanding.” She tried to force a smile that would reach even her eyes. She did not want for her friends to pity her. She had had far too much of that already this spring and summer and really, it had all been rather pathetic of her.
Emily narrowed her eyes. “You andFlave?” she asked, disbelievingly.
Cecily would have to be firm. “What with Miss Cunnington gone, and after facing the possibility of Flave’s death, Flavion and I have realized that we still have some… affection for one another. We are going to spend some quiet time at his country seat in Surrey getting to know each other better. His mother will not be in residence. She sent word that she will be spending the remainder of the year in Bath. I think it will be for the best. It was rather silly, wasn’t it, to think that we could end my marriage with our pranks?” Again, she smiled, but this one felt brittle. Gathering her reticule, Cecily went to stand up before she lost her composure completely. “Now let me hug each of you because Flave and I are departing at sunup tomorrow, and I most likely shan’t see any of you until the Season comes around again.” Perhaps not even then. She was not sure that Flavion would ever be willing to face Society again. She was equally uncertain as to whether or not he would be accepted into their ranks after losing the duel to the colonel. Already, rumors trickled through thetonas to the extent and nature of his injury. She fought back tears for the thousandth time that day as she hugged each of her friends in turn.
Before she gave into another bout of crying, she fled the teahouse. She had sent Salaam away that morning so she did not have to concern herself with his whereabouts today. There was no more danger. Everything had played itself out to its final conclusion. As promised by Miss Cunnington, there had been no further pranks or attacks upon her person or her dog. She was free of that, at least.
Before entering Nottinghouse, she paused a moment to reflect on her surroundings. She gazed about herself, at the large pristine mansions and wondered when she would visit Mayfair again. Memories of the time she had spent with Stephen were already fading. She wished she’d kept something of him — a lock of hair, a handkerchief — anything to make her feel closer to him.
Foolishness!
She swallowed hard and then entered the house. Once inside she dashed up the stairs and locked herself inside of her bedchamber. She could not hold back her tears one second longer.
Stephen gave himselfoverto managing both the earldom’s properties and his own business affairs. The only times he could not escape his thoughts of Cecily were while suffering the tediousness of trekking over long distances. Although he traveled with a carriage, much of the time he rode his own mount and left the more comfortable ride for Hamilton.
No matter where he went or what he did, however, he could not escape his yearning and aching for Cecily. She had become a part of him.
He’d corresponded with Flavion as necessary and was aware that the couple no longer resided at Nottinghouse. And although he had conflicting emotions about it, Stephen decided to reside in the Town house for a few weeks before traveling abroad once again in pursuit of new business opportunities.
He did not look forward to being at Nottinghouse again, even alone. There were too many memories there. Piercingly bittersweet memories.
But he needed to finish up his communications and tie up a few loose ends. Flavion had written that he would not be returning to London for several years, if ever. But he was alive. His outlook would surely improve eventually. Stephen hoped Flavion would change his mind and return to the Society in which he’d thrived for most of his life. It would be nice if he could thrive there once again, this time alongside his beautiful wife.
Stephen was not going to think about it. He would walk away once again.
This time, however, he would secure the operations of the earldom first. He hired a trustworthy and capable steward to guide and assist Flavion. The new steward and Stephen had discussed how best this was to be done. Most of the management decisions would be made by the steward, who would report to Stephen. Stephen was to pay the man’s salary and expected complete loyalty.
Upon arriving at Nottinghouse very late that night, Stephen was welcomed by a skeleton staff and informed that his room had been prepared. Emptiness swept over him as he made his way to the chamber in which he’d first made love to Cecily. Hamilton prepared him a bath, and he changed into his dressing gown.
In spite of physical exhaustion, he was too restless to sleep.
Never one to sit idle, he lit a candle and made his way downstairs to the study. There, several unopened letters sat on the desk awaiting his attention. Lighting a few sconces and placing the candle upon the desk, he perused the correspondence.
One letter was a response for which he’d written off after Miss Cunnington’s defection. It was from the investigator he had hired to inquire into Flavion’s activities before his marriage. Although feeling as though any information gathered would now be obsolete, he tore the missive open, nonetheless. A letter and a certificate were enclosed. Without reading the letter, Stephen unfolded the certificate and found himself holding his breath.
He read it once. Checked the date. And then read it again. “Good God,” he said. “Good God!” he whispered.
Uncertain as to what he ought to do, the ramifications of what he read cascaded through his mind. Sitting down, he opened the letter from the investigator, and the man confirmed the meaning of the certificate along with other inconsequential details. At the end of the missive, he asked what Stephen would like him to do with the information.
Stephen was going to have to deal with this himself.
Once again, he would have to delay his departure from England… perhaps indefinitely.
