Aiden was a duke. A powerful one at that, despite his being gone from Society for so long. And she knew her grandfather would be attracted to that title and the power that went with it.
But Rosalinde had reacted so poorly to her mentioning of reconnecting with Gregory Fitzgilbert, Celia hesitated to bring it up again. Gray despised her grandfather after his attack on Rosalinde. The two could easily forbid her from pursuing a new deal with him if she asked.
But if she didn’t ask…well, she could always apologize later, couldn’t she? If she decided to meet with him, if her plan worked out, Rosalinde would surely forgive her.
She smiled. “At any rate, there is nothing happening yet. He’s asked to court me and he will. There are no bridges to cross yet when it comes to the future. I’ll just hope for the best.”
Rosalinde grabbed her and drew her in for a hug. “Absolutely. But I am happy for you that you like this man. When you say you want something like my happiness, I must tell you I pray nightly that you will find the same and more.”
“More?” Celia laughed as she squeezed her sister tightly. “I don’t know if there is more in the world.”
But as they laughed, Celia couldn’t help but think of Aiden again. It felt like she could findmorewith a man like him. Everything and more. She had always told herself she couldn’t have it all.
But now she couldn’t help but wonder if she could.
CHAPTER TEN
Clairemont stood in the parlor, staring out the window at the bright and sunny garden behind Grayson Danford’s home. He’d been offered a seat by the butler who brought him here, but he’d not been able to stay in it long. He felt antsy and unsettled, and as much as he tried to chalk that up to his investigation, in his heart he knew it had more to do with Celia.
He faced the door just as Celia entered, her sister trailing behind her. As she looked at him across the room, her face lit up in a bright smile and the power of it hit him in the gut and nearly set him spiraling back. No one hadeverlooked at him like that before. Like he was everything.
He’d always been nothing.
“Hello, Your Grace,” Mrs. Danford said, moving between the couple and breaking the spell between them. “How lovely to see you again.”
The words were friendly, but her tone was a bit stiff. Clairemont blinked and forced himself to focus on her. There was hesitation in her eyes as she extended a hand to him in welcome.
He shook it. “Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Danford. Will your husband not join us?”
Mrs. Danford shook her head. “Gray planned to do just that, but I’m afraid his meeting earlier in the day went long. He sent word that he’d be late, though we hope to see him before you depart.”
Clairemont frowned, for he wondered who Danford was meeting with, but he didn’t press. Already Celia’s sister seemed uncertain of him, as outwardly friendly as she continued to be. He didn’t want to raise her suspicions even more and perhaps block him from uncovering more.
And from spending time with her sister.
“Please, let’s sit, shall we?” Mrs. Danford said as she motioned them all to the settee and chairs before the fire.
She took the chair and Clairemont settled himself in next to Celia on the settee. It was narrow and his larger frame barely fit, which forced his knee to bump hers when he moved.
Every time it did, it was a shock to the system. It seemed to affect her, too, for her pupils were dilated and her breath slightly short when she said, “Your letters earlier in the week reminded me that you haven’t been in London for a very long time.”
Clairemont nodded. The letters. There had been no reason in the world for him to write to her in the days they’d been apart, but he’d found himself doing so regardless. Sharing with her his impressions of London, giving her details on what he did and thought during the day. It made him feel like they were connected somehow.
And he liked it, even though he shouldn’t.
“Yes, a very long time,” he said.
“You’ve told me some of your activities, but I wanted to ask you how you find it overall, Your Grace?”
Clairemont saw Mrs. Danford gather up sewing from a basket beside her chair and turn slightly away. So they were to be given some small level of privacy despite the fact that they were being chaperoned. But not enough for more stolen kisses.
He supposed he should be pleased by that fact. Those kisses were wholly wrong and utterly distracting. And yet he kept taking them, savoring them, dreaming of them, regardless of the consequences to such an action.
“Aiden?”
The use of the name he’d given her jolted him back to reality. He shot Mrs. Danford a look, but she hadn’t reacted to the use of what they all believed was his first name.
“I’m sorry, Celia, I was woolgathering,” he said. “You asked me about London. I don’t think it will come as a surprise that it isn’t exactly my favorite place.”
