Isabella, for her part, had accepted her new nickname cheerfully enough. The pettishness Cecilia had noticed this morning didn’t seem to be a natural feature ofhertemperament. She was a touch shy, and anxious from too much turmoil in her young life, but Cecilia saw signs of a sweet, even-tempered child underneath the fussiness. She seemed more apt to smile than frown, to laugh than cry, and she had a sunny, lopsided grin so charming it could melt the coldest of hearts.
The child’s eyes, though, were her most outstanding feature. Such an unusual hazel color, so bright and distinctive there was no overlooking them. They made Cecilia think of Lord Darlington’s eyes. Not the color, as his were blue, but the brightness of them, the way they dominated his everyother feature.
The similarity ended there, though. WhereIsabella’s eyes sparkled with life, Lord Darlington’s eyes were burdened with shadows and secrets.
Cecilia glanced down into Isabella’s sweet face. The big, hazel eyes had grown heavy as she hummed. “Ah, nearly asleep at last, and not a moment too soon.” A wry smile curved her lips. “The only other ballad I can remember is about a fairy that steals a child away while his mother is picking berries. Not at all the thing, I’m afraid.”
She continued to rock back and forth, Isabella’s warm body limp in her arms. She stroked her soft, golden-brown curls, watching her heavy, black eyelashes until they fluttered closed against her plump cheeks.
Once Isabella was asleep, Cecilia’s gaze wandered over to the cot that had been arranged against the wall on the other side of the fireplace. Amy slept there, on orders of the Marquess of Darlington, who insisted his niece neverbe left alone.
It was a strange arrangement, but it wasn’t the only strange thing about Darlington Castle. Perhaps whatever secrets Lord Darlington was hiding had addled his brain. A guilty conscience was a burdensome thing, wasn’t it?
What precisely he was guilty of, however, she still couldn’t say. Hersubtle attempts to prod the servants for information had come to precisely naught. Lord Darlington had told her his servants didn’t tell tales outside the castle, but Cecilia had assumed they must tell talesto each other.
They didn’t. She’d never seen servants more loyal to their master. None of them had a bad word to say about the Marquess of Darlington. But no one could escape their sins forever, not even a marquess. They were part of him now, the secrets he hid woven into the very stone of these castle walls.
It was simply a matter of uncovering them.
Cecilia snuggled Isabella more securely against her and watched the firelight dance in the grate, the shadows flickering against the stone walls. Soon her eyelids began to grow heavy. She was just drifting off to sleep when the sound of the door opening made her eyes pop open. “Amy?”
The shadowy figure paused in the doorway. “Try again.”
Cecilia jerked upright, her heart quickening into a frantic rhythm under her breastbone. There was only one person at Darlington Castle who had such a deep voice and such broad shoulders, and it wasn’t Amy. “Lord Darlington?”
“What are you doing in my niece’s bedchamber, Cecilia?” Lord Darlington closed the door behind him, shutting the two of them alone together in the dim room.“Where’s Amy?”
Cecilia leapt to her feet with Isabella clutched in her arms. “I beg your—”
“No, don’t beg my pardon,” Lord Darlington grumbled. “You’ve already begged my pardon a half dozen times today. I’m weary of it.”
“Yes, my—”
“No moreyes, my lords, orno, mylordseither.”
“Very well, my—” Cecilia began, then broke off with a soft gasp. He’d taken a step closer, and he was moving closer yet.
Closer, and closer…
God in heaven, the man was enormous.
She backed up a step, and he paused again. “There’s nowhere for you to go, unless you intend to leap out the window. Do I make you nervous, Cecilia?”
“No, my—”
He raised an eyebrow, and she caught herself just in time. “I, ah…very well. The truth is, you do make me a trifle nervous.”
“The truth. How refreshing.” A grim smile drifted over his lips. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. Not while you’re holding my niece, at least.”
His pitiful attempt at a smile tugged at a raw place in Cecilia’s chest, and in the next breath she found herself rushing to reassure him. “I never said I wasafraid. Nothing so drastic as that. Just a little unnerved. I daresay I’ll become used to you soon enough.”
Another grim smile. “I doubt it. Not to worry, though. You won’t be the only woman in Kent who’s alarmed by my presence.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond, but held out his arms for Isabella. “I’ve only come to say goodnight to my niece.”
Cecilia hesitated, but she could hardly refuse to turn Isabella over to her uncle. “She fretted for a bit, but now she’s nearly asleep.” She settled Isabella into Lord Darlington’s arms.
Lord Darlington squeezed into the rocking chair, despite being far too tall for it, and sat with his legs sprawled out before him, Isabella gathered against his chest. He cupped the back of her head with one big hand and waved the other at the chair opposite the one Cecilia had just vacated. “If you’ve decided not to go out the window after all, you may aswell sit down.”
Cecilia, whose legs were like jelly from the number of times she’d run up and down the stairs today, andnotfrom Lord Darlington’s sudden appearance, sank gratefully into the chair. But just when she’d drawn a relieved breath, he turned to her expectantly. “Let’s have alullaby, then.”
