Page 27 of Wedded to the Forbidden Duke
What more would she have asked him to do?
Chapter Eleven
“Have you received much correspondence since you arrived here?” Nancy asked sweetly, after taking a sip of her tea.
“A bit,” Cecilia replied.
It was a relief to have her best friend here. Since that night in the dining room, when she had forgotten herself entirely with Ian, she and the duke had been avoiding each other for nearly an entire week. It had been quite lonely, though she was loath to admit it.
“Mostly from you,” Cecilia continued. “And of course, Mother wrote, as well.”
“And Zachary,” Nancy said.
Cecilia looked over at her, surprised. “How do you know that?” she asked.
Nancy flushed. “He mentioned it to me,” she said. “We ran into each other when my mother and I were promenading in the park, and I told him that I was going to visit you. He misses you. Are you planning to write him back soon?”
Cecilia pursed her lips. She took another sip of tea and sighed. “In truth, I do not know what to put on the paper,” she admitted. “I fear I am still too angry with him to know what to say.”
“Angry with him?” Nancy asked, a delicate crease between her light brows. “For what?”
“For this,” Cecilia said, her tone disgruntled. She gestured at the air. “For sending me here.” She looked down at her wedding ring. “For marrying me off to the worst kind of rake, despite all of my protestations to the contrary.”
“Oh, Celie.” Nancy tilted her head, looking at her friend with the most pleading expression on her face. “You must forgive him that, surely?” she asked.
Cecilia stared into her teacup as she took a sip. “Must I?” she muttered.
“He was only doing what he thought best,” Nancy said cautiously. “And is it truly all that bad, to be married?” She gestured at their resplendent surroundings. “You are a duchess now, after all. The estate is truly beautiful.”
Cecilia fell quiet for a moment, looking around at their surroundings. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I suppose it is.”
Nancy smiled sweetly, and nodded, though there was some hesitance on her face.
Cecilia, noticing, bent her head to catch her friend’s gaze. “What is it, Nancy?”
Nancy looked at her cup of tea on her lap. “Well,” she said. “I was a bit surprised to hear from you so soon after the wedding. That I was the first person you wanted to see.”
Cecilia could not help but laugh at that. “Don’t be silly. Who else would I rather see?”
“Well. Apart from your husband…” Nancy hesitated. “I have been fearful you might forget me,” she confessed. “Now that you rank so highly. I imagine you will be receiving all sorts of invitations from ladies of a similar rank. I thought perhaps you might no longer wish to be my friend.”
“Nancy.” Shaking off her surprise, Cecilia put her cup down and leaned forward to take her friend’s hand. “Nothing would ever make me forget you. You are my best friend, and the very finest of best friends, at that.”
Nancy smiled at her. “I am relieved to hear it.” She squeezed Cecilia’s hand back. “Well, then, as your friend I will tell you what I think about it all.”
Cecilia lifted a brow. “Oh?” she asked, smiling slightly. “And what is it you think about it all, mighty Miss Banfield?”
“Well,Your Grace…” They both giggled at the sound of her new title. Nancy finally cleared her throat, and continued, “I think you should write your brother back.” Before Cecilia could protest, Nancy raised a hand and continued, “I understand you being angry with him, but it is no good to have those sorts of squabbles between family. Family is all we have, and can be gone all too soon. You and I both know that.”
“Yes,” Cecilia said. Immediately, thoughts flooded her head of the loss of her father. “You are right.” She looked off into the distance for a long time, then shook her head with resolve. “And, anyway, it is not really Zachary I am angry with. I know it is not his fault, not really. It is the duke that is to blame.”
“What is my fault again?” a new voice asked.
Both women nearly leaped to their feet. Nancy bowed deeply. “Your Grace!” she exclaimed.
Cecilia’s bow was somewhat colder. “Husband.” She kept her voice cool, though she could not deny her heart fluttered at the sight of him.
“Wife.” Ian matched her tone and inclined his head genteelly. “Miss Banfield,” he said, more gently.
