Page 33 of Wedded to the Forbidden Duke
She backed away from him, wiping tears from her eyes. “Forgive me for the outburst,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “I should not have said anything. I ought to return to the parlor. We will be starting soon. Excuse me.”
With that, she left the room.
Ian remained in the study for a few minutes longer, giving her a head start back to the parlor while he sat with his own thoughts.
When he returned to the parlor, music greeted him in the hallway. He opened the door quietly, slipping in and closing it silently behind him. He found everyone seated, as the music had already begun. Cecilia was seated at the opposite end of the room, next to her brother, an empty seat to the other side of him.
A beautiful tune drifted over from the pianoforte. He looked over to see Miss Banfield seated there, her hands moving nimbly over the keys. Cecilia had not exaggerated—her friend was indeed quite gifted at the instrument.
Looking back at Zachary, Ian was surprised to see the look on his friend’s face. There was an emotion in Zachary’s eyes the likes of which he had never seen before. There was a softness thatwas new, and his gaze was firmly fixed on Miss Banfield, full of admiration and light.
Ian let his gaze drift back to Cecilia.
Cecilia was also looking at Miss Banfield, though she occasionally snuck glances back at her brother. Though she was still slightly red around the eyes from her earlier tears, anyone who had not been privy to their conversation would not know she had been crying. She wore a small, approving smile, hope in her eyes.
Ian thought once more about her passion when she had spoken of her late father. The grief in her eyes. It was true, he realized, what she had said. She meant it honestly when she said she was not trying to meddle, only to ensure her brother’s happiness. Indeed, looking at her and Zachary now, it was clear that Cecilia had been right about his feelings for Miss Banfield. Perhaps Miss Banfield truly was what was best for Zachary.
Looking again at Cecilia—her beautiful smile, the tempting curve of her neck—he was struck was pride in his wife. A talented matchmaker, in addition to a hostess. How surprising, he thought, that they finally saw eye to eye on something.
He could not help but wonder what else they might have in common.
Cecilia glanced back at the door. For one electrifying moment, their eyes met.
Then the music came to a close, and she looked away, cheeks red.
Miss Banfield turned to the crowd and gave a shy bow. Immediately, the audience burst into applause. No one clapped so loudly as Cecilia—except, of course, for Zachary, who looked more smitten than ever.
At the end of the night, once the last guest had been safely delivered into a carriage heading home, Ian stood in the hallway, leaning against a wall, and watched as Cecilia waved goodbye.
When she turned around, she stopped suddenly, as if surprised by him.
“Well,” she said after a brief pause. “That was a success, I suppose. Did you…” She hesitated, with an uncharacteristic nervousness. “I mean. You enjoyed the evening, I hope? I recall you were not thrilled with my initial announcement that I planned to host.”
He stood up from leaning against the wall and walked towards her. “It was a great success,” he agreed. “Whatever my initial reservations, I cannot deny that the results were spectacular. You should be quite proud of yourself, Your Grace.”
She laughed at his use of her title. “I appreciate the praise.”
“You looked beautiful, as well.”
She fell silent at that, though a small smile appeared on her lips. “Thank you,” she said, before walking down the hall. “I am off to bed,” she said. “I hope you sleep well.”
“Good night,” he replied. When she passed him, their arms brushed. The slight touch was enough to inspire new and powerful lust within him. He spoke again. “And you were right, you know.”
She stopped in her tracks, before turning slowly to face him. “About what?”
He tilted his head. “Your brother,” he said slowly. “I was watching him, during the performance.” He did not mention that he had been watching her, as well—surely she knew, from the moment their eyes had met. “It seems, indeed, that he perhaps is very fond of Miss Banfield.”
“Oh?” Cecilia asked. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” he said begrudgingly. “I have never seen him so flustered by a lady, in all our years of friendship. And Miss Banfield seems to be quite an accomplished young lady. They are well-matched. Perhaps…”
She raised a brow. “Perhaps?” she said, encouragingly.
He sighed. “Perhaps we could invite them to dinner next week,” he said. “And perhaps I shall speak to your brother. To encourage him to pursue his affections, to court her properly.”
“Well,” Cecilia said, a sparkle in her eye. “I am surprised.”
“Are you displeased? Would you rather we not invite them?”
