Page 63 of The General's Gift
Nicki turned, stiff-backed, already leaving.
His head snapped toward Nicki, his grip tightening on the railing. “What did you say?”
Nicki halted, pivoted on his heel, and saluted. “I will escort Lady Cecilia. Permission to return to my duty.”
“Permission granted.”
Hawk watched him go. For one fleeting second, he almost called him back, the bitter words replaying in his mind. Nonsense. Nicki was merely angry at being pulled out of his drills. Hawk would’ve felt the same.
Nicki would do his duty. They all had to.
Celeste sighed as Prue fussed with yet another curl. “If you take any longer with my hair, I will have a midnight banquet instead of an afternoon picnic.”
Prue twirled a strand around her finger. “Oh, Lady Cecilia, a full night of writhing in the grass, fingers sinking into the soft earth, the Earl forcing you to—”
“Prue!” Rue snapped.
Prue blinked innocently. “—consume an indecent amount of ripe, dripping fruit?”
Celeste covered her flaming cheeks.
Rue rubbed her temples. “I swear, Prue, if you don’t stop, I will conscript you into the army.”
“Oh no, not the army! Forced to train daily with vigorous young soldiers, their bodies glistening, their muscles tensing under strict command—”
Rue hurled a stocking at her, and Celeste had to duck fast to avoid the projectile.
“Ladies, please behave.” Celeste batted Prue’s hands away from her coiffure.
“Did you have any opportunity to use the knowledge you collected in that fabled library sortie?” Rue asked.
Prue colored bright red. Celeste’s gaze went to the stash of novels hidden underneath her traveling chest.
She had not mustered the courage to look atThe Merchant of Venus—with its athletic and puzzling illustrations. It was too far removed from the love she had always imagined.
And perhaps she wouldn’t have to. Celeste smiled a secret smile. After the romantic outing to the castle yesterday and today’s demand that she be ready for a picnic, she had reasons to believe Hawk was finally thawing. Maybe she would find the love she always dreamed of with him, the giddy, breathless thrill of a heart racing toward its fate, the brilliance of the fireworks she once could only look at from afar.
“Not yet…” She smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Did Captain Graves say anything about the plans for today?”
Rue’s porcelain cheeks flushed crimson. “No. He fled rather abruptly yesterday.”
Celeste blinked. “What exactly did you do?”
Rue lifted her chin, entirely unapologetic. “Why, I followed the battle plan, of course. I asked him to leave the regiment.”
Celeste’s mouth fell open. “And?”
“He resisted, so I kissed him.”
Celeste stared.
“Rather violently, I’m afraid. He panicked. Spooked two horses, startled the groom, and vanished faster than Wellington’s infantry at Salamanca.”
From the corner, Prue coughed. “A kiss that sends men fleeing for their lives.”
Rue looked at her own hands. “Ambrose won’t speak to me now. I’ve compromised military decorum.”
Celeste pressed a hand to her forehead. “Did Captain Graves understand your intentions are honorable?”
