As she stood there shivering, the snow falling from the sky quickened, and the downy flakes grew heavier. She didn’t have a coat, or boots, and the wind was sneaking up her skirts and down the back of her neck, turning her flesh to ice.
No one knew she was out here. Amy would miss her when she didn’t return to Isabella’s bedchamber, but the kitchen garden was the last place they’d look for her. It could be hours before anyone found her.
Cecilia pressed her body close against the castle wall and huddled there to shield herself as best she could from the raw, bitter wind biting through the thin layers of her clothing.
Someone would come after her. When she didn’t return to Isabella’s bedchamber, Amy would send Duncan out to look for her. He’d find her out here, sooner or later.
All she could do now was pray it would be sooner, rather than later.
Chapter Twenty-one
It looks like a nightmare.
Gideon stopped in front of the iron-studded oak portcullis, and Haslemere and the half-dozen men they’d brought back to Darlington Castle with them drew their horses to a halt behind him.
Had it only been three weeks ago he’d stood in front of the castle that had once been his home, and cursed it as a living nightmare, the withered heart at the center of all his shattered dreams?
It looked as grim now as it had then, but when he gazed up at it, his chest no longer tightened with bitterness. No shudders of revulsion rolled down his spine. His stomach wasn’t clenched with anger, and he wasn’t choking on grief.
Everything had changed, and there was only one way toaccount for it.
A smile drifted over his lips as he recalled his first glimpse of Cecilia, wrapped from head to toe in a dark traveling cloak, tossing pebbles into Darlington Lake.
I wanted to knowhow deep it is.
Perhaps he should have realized even then she’d tilt everything sideways, turn it upside down then right side up again, but forever changed. Perhaps he should have known she’d do the same thing to his heart. Such a small woman, to cause such an upheaval. Such a quiet coup. She’d conquered him before he realized he was under siege.
As they’d plodded toward the castle through the darkness this evening, he’d sworn a hundred oaths he’d wait until tomorrow to see her—that it was too dark, too late, terribly improper to bother her tonight.
What a fool he was. What a blind, arrogant fool. He could no more resist her than he could refuse to draw his next breath—
“Well, Darlington? Do you intend to enter the castle at some point this evening, or are we all to sleep on the drawbridge tonight?”
Gideon turned in the saddle. Haslemere was watching him, a sly grin on his lips. How long had he been lingering here, staring up at the castle, lost in dreams of Cecilia? Long enough to put a knowing smirk on Haslemere’s face, at least.
“Careful, Haslemere, or I’ll put you in the moat,” Gideon replied mildly as he urged his horse into a walk and led theparty forward.
“You’re distracted tonight, Darlington. Why is that, I wonder? Ah well, it’s not my concern.” Haslemere leapt down from his horse, gathered his reins, then held out his hand for Gideon’s. “Well, go on then, give them here. I’ll take him in. He deserves better than to have a distracted marquesspawing at him.”
Gideon dismounted and handed his reins over, his lips quirking. “You’re a diligent horseman, Haslemere, anda good friend.”
“I am, indeed, both of those things.” Haslemere shrugged, but he looked pleased. “Come on, men. The stablesare this way.”
Gideon forced himself to wait until the men had rounded the side of the castle before he hurried over the footbridge. He was a marquess, after all, and it wouldn’t do to sacrifice all his dignity by scrambling about like an overeager puppy. But as soon as they were out of sight he darted through the courtyard and into theentrance hall.
He took the stairs two at a time. He didn’t pause to remove his coat or boots when he reached his bedchamber, but rushed through the connecting door, his heart soaring with desire and love and anticipation.
Only to crash again when he entered Isabella’s bedchamber. His niece was sound asleep in her bed, but it wasn’t Cecilia dozing in the rocking chair by her side.
It was Amy.
The thud of his boots echoed in his ears as he hurried across the room. He crouched in front of the rocking chair so he wouldn’t frighten Amy by looming over her, then nudged her gently awake. “Amy? Where’s Cecilia?”
Amy blinked groggily, frowning at Gideon as if she’d never seen himbefore. “Who?”
“Cecilia, Amy. It’s late. Where is she?” Gideon was making a great effort not to shake Amy into full consciousness and interrogate her as if she were a criminal.
“Lord Darlington?” Amy rubbed her bleary eyes and blinked again before focusing on him. “Oh, I beg your pardon, my lord. I must have dozed off.” She sat up straighter in the chair. “Isabella—”
