Page 62 of A Flaming Lady's Secret Valentine
“The Radcliff estate is not all that bad,” Gregory commented, slumping into an armchair. He would not stop looking at Cecilia, watching her, analysing her ever move. “Travers has done brilliantly surveying the place for us.”
“Forus?” Edward chimed in, and there was a note of reprimand to his voice, as if to say,Bit eager of you.
Gregory said nothing in return, but he did not have to. Cecilia pressed a hand to her throat, thinking. Her father had sent Raphael on an errand for him on the coast, surveying properties there . . . Herloverhad been sent to inspect her marital home. She could not imagine anything more punishing.
Her head started to spin. “Father, I—”
“Yes, yes, of course,” her father interjected. “You are excused, Cecilia. We will see you down in a minute. Meanwhile, Radcliff and I will have thattalk. Come!”
Cecilia did not wait to watch them go. She hurried up the stairs, tripping on the hem of her dress on the way up. She crumpled in a pile on the landing, letting out a pained gasp.
Be happy?she thought.How to be happy under these circumstances? I will have to dine with them now, will not I? Who knows what could be said in my absence? All the better to gauge Mr Travers’s feelings about us . . . if yet they still exist.
Picking herself up before anyone heard and came to her aid, she marched into her room and rang the bell for Jane. The maid wasted no time in helping her perform her toilette, powdering her and perfuming her with orange blossom water within a matter of minutes.
Dressed in one of her better dinner gowns, an empire-waisted frock in carmine-coloured velvet, Cecilia journeyed back down the stairs, bracing herself for the worst. She had not missed her father’s words to Gregory, about having their ‘talk’, but she prayed to God it was nothing to do with their betrothal. No man asked for a woman’s hand at a dinner party!
She loitered in the entrance hall for a moment, trying to control her nerves. When finally she crept towards the drawing room, she paused before the door. It had been closed halfway. She could see no one beyond the crack, but a set of voices were whispering back and forth. It was unladylike to eavesdrop, but Cecilia had done many more unladylike things as of late. A little spying would be the lesser of her crimes.
“How can you not have thought any more about it?” Edward said, though he was barely audible. Cecilia wondered to whom he was speaking. “Opportunities like this do not exactly fall out of the sky. I thought you would be grateful.”
“I am grateful,” someone whispered back, even more quietly, “but these things cannot be decided overnight.”
“Italy will not wait for all of time. I need a man now, or mycazawill slip between my fingers, and then I shall be very cross with you. It is an easy enough decision. If it is the money you are worried about—”
“It is not the money.”
“Then what is holding you back, Travers?”
Travers.
Cecilia’s heart skipped a beat. Of course it was Raphael speaking, but what did he have to do with Edward’s continental fancies? She tiptoed closer to the jamb, pressing her ear against the wood.
“I appreciate the offer. Really, I do. What man would not want to be paid to travel?” Raphael replied. “Things are not as they seem, my lord. I cannot uproot my life on a whim. There are people who depend on me.”
“I could finance that as well, whatever you need. We are friends, Travers. Let me help you build a better life for yourself away from here.”
Slowly, the meaning of the conversation dawned on Cecilia. Edward was asking Raphael to work for him abroad, no doubt by managing his web of properties. Her brother could not be blamed for wanting to tear Raphael from her; he did not know Raphael had anything to leave behind.
But who are these people that depend on him? Surely, he does not mean I.She leaned back, her breathing harried.What are keeping from me, Raphael? And why did you say nothing about my brother’s offer?
Was it because he wanted to go and feared Cecilia would force him to stay? All at once, Cecilia was overwhelmed by feelings of betrayal. She began to spiral, not sure who to trust, not sure what to think. It felt impossible to breathe, as though the weight of all their mistakes had piled up on her, too heavy to bear. She clutched her necklace, desperate for air.
Gregory’s threat, Raphael’s departure, my family’s scheming . . . Be happy! Be happy! Be happy!
She eyed the door, beyond which the night beckoned.
Chapter 22
Something slammed shut in the entrance hall, putting an end to Edward’s badgering. The young lord was determined to see Raphael shipped off to the continent, and there were only so many times Raphael could forgogiving his answer without rousing his suspicion.
Delay it for now he must. The crack echoed through the house, shaking the windows in its frames. Raphael looked over his shoulder to the doorway. An icy draught wrapped around his legs. Someone had left the manor.
“Who on earth . . .” Edward began, trailing off. Without a word his face twisted darkly. He stormed over to the window that looked over the courtyard, forcefully setting down his glass of claret atop the pianoforte. He flicked back the curtains and cursed. “I should have known.”
Raphael looked over his shoulder out into the dark of night. He could hardly see anything beyond their reflections in the glass . . . but there, in that pool of darkness, a shadow was moving down the drive at a frightening pace: a shadow that looked suspiciously like Cecilia.
“You must go after her,” Edward said.
