“I would give anything to answer that question for you, dearest,” she said. “But I believe that that makes them the monsters for being so thoughtlessly and unnecessarily cruel.”
Agnes nodded again firmly.
“I agree,” she said. “It doesn’t matter how nice you look. Those who possess the kind of soul that could be mean to others for something outside of their control are the real ugly people.”
Cecily felt her mother take Agnes’s hand, and she heard her kiss it.
“I have two daughters of whom I am extremely proud,” she said.
Cecily grinned again.
“I am proud to be in this family,” she said.
When the carriage stopped in front of their home, Agnes helped Cecily alight. She walked arm in arm with her sister, feeling more reassured about her outburst at the party. Her mother and sister were right. It was not people like the Duke who were the problem in high society, even if he was as badly scarred as the gossip proclaimed. It was the people who passed such harsh judgments that were the trouble.
She felt bad for His Grace, however. She thought again about how polite, if reserved, he had been at dinner. No gentleman who could host such a lovely party could be bad. He didn’t deserve for people to gossip about him. At least her malady was not overtly apparent, so long as she did not start bumping into things. She was lucky in that regard when it came to gossip.
She was listening to Agnes talking more about the tea party as they stepped inside the hallway. She was glad to be home, as she felt like playing a little pianoforte. But just then she smelled the butler, Mr. Charles, joined them.
“Excuse my pardon,” he said gently. “But his lordship, the Earl, wishes to see Lady Cecily at once.”
Chapter Ten
“Is something the matter?” Cecily asked when Greta reached her side to escort her to her father’s study.
She could feel the maid shrug and shake her head.
“I do not know, milady,” she said. “I only came downstairs from my other duties when I heard the three of you return from the party.”
Cecily frowned. It was unusual for her father to wish to speak to any of the women of the family privately. In fact, apart from a few rare occasions with their mother, the last time he had asked to speak privately to them was when the physician had given him the news about her blindness. But if something was wrong, why would he choose to speak only to Cecily?
Feeling nervous, she let Greta lead her into the Earl’s study. He was waiting in the doorway to take her by the hands. Greta took her leave, and Cecily let her father lead her to a nearby sofa.
“Thank you for coming right away, darling,” he said.
“Of course, Papa,” she said, her concern growing. She could tell from the sound of her father’s voice that he had something important on his mind. Perhaps, she had been wrong in thinking that he would speak to them all if something was wrong. He sounded just the same as he had when he had called her in, years ago, to speak about her making her debut. She was sure he wore that same expression then. But why?
“My dear daughter,” he said in that same serious tone. “I called you in because there is a very sudden matter that I must discuss with you.”
Cecily’s heart was pounding in her chest.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
Her father cleared his throat and shifted on the sofa beside her.
“His Grace, the Duke of Archington met with me earlier today,” he said.
Cecily nodded slowly. Did the Duke come to discuss business with her father?
“Is that a good thing?” she asked, genuinely confused.
The Earl was silent for a moment, making Cecily’s head spin. Another dark thought crossed her mind. What if he had found out about, and been offended by, her blindness the previous evening? What if he had come to ask her father to never bring her along to future dinners or social events hosted by him?
“That depends on what you think about what I have to say,” he said carefully.
Cecily chuckled nervously.
“Come on Papa, tell me,” she pleaded, squeezing his hands. “I must confess that I am rather worried about what it is that you are about to say to me.”
