Page 60 of A Flaming Lady's Secret Valentine
He had spoken so softly, but Cecilia bristled with anger all the same. She bridled her feelings swiftly, all the while knowing that no man had the right to tell her what did or did not scare her—worse, to try and explain her preferences away with self-serving ideas, like ‘you are scared’.
She put her hands out in front of her. “I am not scared of love or marriage. I am just not convinced you and I are made for eachother. That is all.”
“If you are allowed to make sweeping judgements about my character, I feel entitled to do the same for you. I am sorry if I was wrong, and I am sorry for what I will say next.”
He closed much of the distance between them and scooped up her hand. It fit awkwardly in his palm, but Cecilia was too stunned to yank it free.
“Whether you agree or not, the truth is that you and I would make a perfect match. You say there is no love between us because we have not given it a chance to grow—”
“Gregory—”
“I will finish!” he stated firmly.
Cecilia’s breath hitched. She had asked that he stop pretending, but she was not sure his honesty was much better. In fact, behind his dandy’s mask, she was not sure she liked what she saw.
“You are beautiful and of good breed,” he continued. She did not attempt to stop him this time, her heart racing.“Our families have been allied for generations. You may not yet hold me in your heart, but reason should prevail over feelings when it comes to marriage. That is not a belief, it is the truth.”
He placed another hand atop hers, locking her in.
“There is no one suitable for me but you. I am convinced that we will marry. I will continue to be convinced until you are off the market for good.”
The sound of gentle footfalls carried on the wind. Edward and Daphne were fast approaching, and Cecilia had not desire to see them witness whateverthiswas.
She tore her hand away.
“Was that a threat, Lord Radcliff?” she murmured, flexing her hand.
“Not a threat, Lady Cecilia”, he replied, forcing a smile as Edward and Daphne arrived. He whispered so only she could hear, “A warning of things to come.”
*
The carriage rattled down Norwich Road, making Cecilia feel sicker than she was already. The sun was broiling low in the sky, and her tummy was gurgling. It had been five hours since their luncheon on the upland, five hours since Radcliff had spoken his intent to marry Cecilia regardless of her feelings.
Her mother had helped organise a fundraiser for the Church in town. Cecilia and Edward had been ordered to come along that afternoon and help. She had sifted through the wares to be sold, provided by friends of the duchess, while Edward had lingered by the tea and cakes, grumbling to himself while scoffing scones.
She glanced at her brother, who was leaning against his side of the carriage, eying the road. He really did look so much like their father, except Edward was a modern man. He dressed sharply, exuded an air of detached confidence and worldliness. And he liked to be left alone.
Edward sighed. “I realise I am a feast for the eyes, but could you possible look elsewhere?”
Cecilia laughed. “I looked your way for three seconds.”
“Three seconds too many.” Edward sighed and turned to face her. Something in his gaze caught her off-guard. “You know, our mother is worried about you.”
Cecilia furrowed her brow. Her brother’s statement had come out of nowhere. She decided they must have spoken at the fair. It was not like Cecilia would have noticed. She had not dared look her mother’s way since their spat on the stairs.
“Worried about my match with the earl, you mean,” she suggested.
“No, Cecilia, that is not what I mean.”
Edward tutted and returned to staring out of the window.
“What happened between the two of you? One minute you are friends and the next I am being cornered by our mother at a fundraiser while she drones on and on about how hopeless you are.”
Cecilia’s brows shot into her hairline, and Edward blanched in turn. “Perhaps I have exaggerated that point. Regardless, I imagine there was some sort of squabble to leave you both so sour-faced.”
With every blink of her eyes, the sky grew darker outside. Cecilia closed them altogether. “Mother reminded me of my impending betrothal. I fought back, said some things I regret.”
Edward leaned forward,ever the eager gossipmonger, and Cecilia shook her head. “I would rather not repeat them. Suffice to say, I am ashamed and I do not blame mother for ignoring me. Worring, however, saying I am hopeless . . .”
