Cecil could not rest because he could smell the soft floral scent of Penelope’s perfume on his sheets, because he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips, and could taste the sweetness of her lips against his still.
He had thought putting some distance between them would help ease whatever tension had built up after he let his tongue wag out of control in the throes of pleasure. And perhaps he hoped Penelope would contest it.
But as always, she remained maddeningly unreadable. He had thought his response disappointed her during their last night together. He had seen how the light in her eyes flicked out. But she had said nothing then and was determined to stay out of his way now.
Cecil hoped fixing his focus on Lady Heather would help, but more often than not, he found his eyes wandering across the room in search of the woman who had muddled his thoughts greatly.
“Your Grace?”
“Yes?” Cecil cleared his throat and adjusted his posture, feeling rather drained from all the talking.
Lady Heather was a fine conversationalist, which Cecil supposed was a good quality in the event of her becoming his wife, but he missed being able to argue a nonsensical point for the fun of it.
“I asked if you would be at the ball tonight.” His present company smiled at him bashfully.
For a moment, Cecil was unsure of what she was speaking of. Then he remembered the mix of emotions he felt when he hadawoken that morning and realized that they had finally arrived at the last day of his sister’s house party.
Being that this was the final night, a ball had been organised as a sign of gratitude from the hosts to the guests for attending, as well as a farewell.
Honestly, Cecil would rather be anywhere else, but he could not resist the part of him that wanted to see Penelope again soon. At least one last time.
“Yes,” he nodded as though his attendance was a given, rather than a decision he had only seen merit in making moments ago. “I plan to be there.”
Lady Heather smiled, looking quite pleased, and Cecil couldn’t help the slight twinge of guilt that flashed through him. He had thought it would be easy now that he had found someone, whom he thought was mildly more suitable than the others who had tried to swarm him at the beginning of the party.
But somehow, it felt... wrong. He could not focus on Lady Heather, no matter how hard he tried.
“And – I cannot wait to dance with you, tonight.” He forced himself to say, the words tasting like lead in his mouth.
Lady Heather beamed brightly, and Cecil knew he would later come to regret those words.
Like always, his senses were correct because a few hours later, the ball began.
He had been lingering against a wall, trying his best to look as inconspicuous as possible, when his sister found him.
“Brother dearest, are you hiding?” Nora questioned, standing next to him with a glass of wine nestled delicately between her fingers.
“I am not,” he scoffed, glancing around quickly. “Now, off you go. Before you attract unwanted attention to me.”
Nora huffed and rolled her eyes, shuffling even closer to him.
“What have you done, Cecil?”
He sighed deeply, plucking her glass from her hand and taking a sip.
“At least share if you are going to bother me. And I do not know what you are referring to.”
Nora gave him a knowing look before she rolled her eyes.
“Brother, you told me you would be on your best behaviour. But my best friend claims that she cannot wait until you are settled with a bride, so that your relationship can return to what it once was!”
It was as though all the air in the room had been sucked out.
“She said that?” Cecil questioned, turning to his sister slowly.
“Yes! Imagine my surprise when I heard! I thought you were getting along! You said I had nothing to worry about. Did you bother her about Lord Lockwood?”
“I don’t give a damn about that viscount. He has nothing to do with this.”
