Page 6 of A Flaming Lady's Secret Valentine
“And I will remind you that I am not the only Norbert heir in need of a matchmaker.”
Cecilia gasped,“How kind of you to throw me to the wolves.”
“Your brother is a villain, but he is not mistaken.” Her mother greeted Daphne tenderly, then squeezed between the girls. She threaded her hand through her daughter’s arm.
“Lady Hamilton has no sons, but there are many gentlemen here who have made clear their wishes to make your acquaintance. I have yet to see you dance with Lord Radcliff. Your father thinks it is important you do, and quickly.”
“I can hardly keep up,” Cecilia said. “Where is Papa?”
“In one of the drawing rooms with Lord Hamilton. Now…” Her mother drew in a sharp breath, seizing Cecilia by the shoulders. “Shall we discuss what happened this afternoon?”
“This afternoon?” Cecilia’s head was spinning, near exploding with visions of Mr Travers at her feet. She looked over her mother’s head at Daphne, but her friend was busy humouring Edward. “Nothing happened this afternoon.”
Her mother’s face was the picture of disappointment. “Cecilia, you are my only daughter. It pains me more than I can say that you feel you cannot confide in me. Your father told me what happened in the study.”
“He did?”
“Yes, he did.” The duchess’s hands slipped down her arms, looping around her daughter’s fingers. “I know that it is been difficult for you, being locked up in Berilton while the Season rages on in London, but I hope it is not deterring you from living your life to the fullest here.”
“You have lost me, Mama.”
“Rumour has it that you were less than eager to accompany us tonight.” Her mother sighed dramatically and lurched forward, taking Cecilia in her arms. “You hear tales of young belles losing their confidence on the marriage mart, but I prayed you would not be one of them. Pray, do not fall victim to your insecurities! You are beautiful, and kind—”
“I cannot breathe—”
“And clever, and not at all willowy as some gentlemen say—”
“They say what?”
“We will have you married by the end of the Season.” Her mother drew back at last, but Cecilia still felt like she was suffocating. “You have my word.”
As if things could not get any worse, the dancing suddenly came to an end. The ballroom swivelled wholly towards the dancers, heaping them with praise. Cecilia caught her breath, shaking her mother’s promise out of her head, and clapping weakly as the musicians slipped into their interlude.
Their gentle music lulled her into a false sense of security. Almost as soon as she had fended off her mother, another enemy appeared. Weaving through the dancers, collecting compliments and smiles, the Earl of Radcliff stalked towards her family.
And he was looking straight at Cecilia.
Bending her knees, she tried to hide behind her mother. “What are you doing?” her mother asked, eyeing her head to toe.
“Stretching?”
“Your Grace!” Lord Radcliff greeted. The party turned to face him, some more eagerly than others. “And Lord Edward, and Lady Daphne, and…” He took on The Thinker’s air. “I do notbelieve we have been introduced.”
Cecilia gave her most winning smile, screaming inside her mind. “You are so very funny, Lord Radcliff. Should I be offended that you seem to forget me ad infinitum? I could cease to attend these events and save you the trouble.”
“Oh, I do so enjoy this bit.” Radcliff pushed past Edward and the duchess, taking Cecilia’s hand from her side. “How is the evening treating you, Lady Cecilia? I see you are as resplendent as ever. Good. Very good.”
“The dancing is beginning anew,” Edward interrupted. “Would the two of you care to dazzle us with your footwork?” Her brother had no interest in dancing, and even less interest in watching others dance—anything to distract his mother and get Lord Radcliff out of his hair.
“Capital idea, Lord Edward!”
Before Cecilia could think to protest, Lord Radcliff was dragging her onto the dance floor. Around them, their fellow dancers were preparing an allemande, and Cecilia mirrored the other ladies’ poses, fighting a frown. Avoiding at all costs Radcliff’s gaze, averting her eyes to the sea beyond the windows, she called to memory her dance lessons.
After a dramatic overture from the musicians, they were off. They hopped and sashayed in time with the music, Radcliff performing with much more zeal than Cecilia. His smile was unyielding, the apples of his cheeks red and plump. He was not an unattractive man by any means, with blonde hair and blue eyes, but he did not hold a candle to Mr Travers.
Cecilia missed her step, catching the hem of her gown beneath her slipper.
“Goodness me! Have I done something to distract you?”
