Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Wait," he called again, jogging across the busy street to meet them.

With yet another sigh, Celestina stopped and turned to him, pasting on her politest of smiles. She folded her hands neatly before her and built a wall between Richard and her emotions. She would be friendly and correct, then return home and hide away for the rest of the day.

She glanced across the road. The young lady and Richard's mother stared after him, quite unbelieving. His mother, in particular, wore a scowl that Celestina remembered from their childhood, and the young lady looked at a loss as to what to do.

Richard was chuckling as he finally approached them. "Imagine bumping into you today after so many years of not seeing one another."

"Imagine," Celestina parroted, though she had thought much the same. The likelihood was slim, and if she had been a more superstitious woman, she would have thought fate was being far too heavy-handed in her role.

She glanced again at the two women across the street who had, it seemed, decided that the only course of action was to follow the duke, though neither looked particularly happy about the change in plans.

"I'm so glad I caught you," he said. "How are you?"

He seemed to be asking genuinely, as if he really wanted to know how she was. It felt refreshing compared to those who asked merely because they should—or worse, so they could gain access to the latest gossip. It made her warm to him immediately. She had long forgotten how it felt to be truly, honestly, openly cared for.

"I am well, thank you."

Richard furrowed his brows. He knew she was lying, but what could either of them do? She couldn't very well tell him that everything was a disaster and that the rumour mill was hard at work.

"I was rather hoping you would have been in contact, actually," he said.

"Oh yes?"

Sylvia hovered at her side, her silent urging screaming in Celestina's ears.

"Yes. I was hoping you would have changed your mind and decided to take me up on my offer of help. For old times' sake."

Celestina smiled weakly, hoping her expression would be enough to placate him. "Honestly, Your Grace," she said, falling back on formality now that they were in public. "The offer really was very kind, but I'm fine. You have no reason to worry about me."

They held each other's gaze for a long moment, and it felt as though the entire world had melted away. It was just him and her. No one else. Nothing else. All of Celestina's problems had gone, for she had Richard in her life again, and that was all that mattered.

She licked her lips, unable to pull her eyes away from him, and the memory of their last encounter flushed her cheeks. She had never felt so right as she had when she was curled in his arms, his rich, earthy scent filling her nostrils and his warmth enveloping her.

"Goodness me! Mrs Courtenay! What a surprise. I was very sorry to hear about your husband. Mr Courtenay was a good man."

Lady Kingsley's voice brought the world crashing back to Celestina's senses, and she turned to face the older woman.

"Yes, he was. Thank you for your condolences, Mrs Kingsley. It's much appreciated."

" Lady Kingsley now," she corrected, making Celestina's cheeks turn pink all over again. It made sense that someone like Mrs Kingsley would take on the honorary title, regardless of her actual noble status. After all, it wasn't her husband who had become duke.

"Yes, goodness, I'd forgotten." She tried for a giggle, but it sounded strange coming from her mouth. She'd never been much of a giggler. "Please accept my apologies, My Lady. My mind has been firmly in the past the last few days."

"You're right, of course," Lady Kingsley replied magnanimously. "It is awfully difficult when one loses their husband. I should know, after all."

Celestina could have kicked herself. She closed her eyes for a second before opening them. "I am sorry again," she said. "I have been too lost in my own grief. Please accept my deepest condolences for Mr Kingsley. I shall always remember him fondly."

"Indeed." Lady Kingsley looked her up and down for a moment, and all the while Celestina could feel Richard's hot eyes upon her. "Let me introduce you to Lady Rebecca," Lady Kingsley said. "She and Richard have become friends in recent weeks."

"Oh, that's … good," Celestina managed, unable to find another word to describe it. "It's lovely to make your acquaintance, Lady Rebecca."

"And I you," Lady Rebecca said, though with an expression that told Celestina she found it to be anything but lovely.

"We've been taking a walk in Regent's Park," Richard said. "It's such a lovely day for it. Have you been doing a little shopping?"

He nodded to the carry case in Sylvia's hand.

"Ummm … yes, something like that," Celestina replied.

The smirk on Lady Rebecca's face suggested she knew all about Celestina's money troubles, and Celestina wished she could disappear. Strangers were bad enough, but to feel this way in the presence of such a dear old friend was too much.

"Speaking of shopping, Your Grace," Lady Rebecca said. "Didn't you say you had a parcel to collect?"

"Later," Richard said. He didn't even turn to look at the young lady, instead waving his hand dismissively behind his back. His gaze hadn't shifted from Celestina since they'd met.

"Actually," Celestina said. "I'm getting rather tired now. You're right about it being a beautiful day, and beautiful days warrant tea. We ought to go. The coach will be waiting."

"The coach? No, that won't do," Richard said. "Let me take you home."

"Goodness, Richard—"

"Your Grace," his mother interrupted with a hiss.

"There's no need," Celestina said. "We're quite all right."

"In a hired coach?" He scoffed. "I think not."

Frustrated, Celestina huffed. "But what of your companions?" she said. "I'm certain they don't want their afternoon cut short simply because—"

"They came separately from me," he explained. "They'll be quite all right."

Celestina looked from him to the ladies and back again, uncertain what to do. Whatever she said was sure to offend one or the other of them. The ladies did not look pleased in the slightest.

"It really is most kind, Your Grace, but I can't accept. Sylvia and I will be just fine. Honestly."

"Nonsense," Richard said. He turned briefly to his mother and Lady Rebecca. "You'll be all right, won't you?"

"Well, I'd far rather if you—"

"There," he said, turning back to Celestina. "All sorted. Shall we go?"

Celestina looked at the women helplessly, her mouth hanging open as she searched for the right words to say. But before she had a chance to make her excuses, Richard took her arm and whisked her away.

"The carriage is this way. Come along, Sylvia."

As they hurried down the street, Celestina felt the now-familiar eyes on her. But far worse than that were the eyes of Ladies Kingsley and Rebecca, burning into the back of her head.

"There really was no need for that," she said, admonishing him as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Perhaps not," Richard replied. "But you're doing me a favour as much as I am doing you one. Another minute in their company and I think I would have gone mad with boredom."

Despite herself, Celestina's heart jumped with joy. She had thought Richard and Lady Rebecca were courting, but he seemed far less enamoured with her than she did with him. She pressed her lips together to stop herself from grinning, though why she should be so pleased, she had no idea. It was not like she still had feelings for the man. Not at all.

"Even so," Celestina said. "I'd wager you're in for it when you return home. I remember your mother's rages well."

"She'll understand," he said with a shrug. "Besides, isn't it the honourable, gentlemanly thing to do to help a damsel in distress?"

Celestina snorted with amusement as they reached the carriage. "I'd hardly call myself a damsel."

"But you are in distress, and that's all that matters to me at this moment. I do hate to see it."

The footman helped her and Sylvia into the back, and Richard followed. He directed the coachman to her house, the place that would be her home only for a few more days. She pushed the thought away and admired her surroundings instead. It was a lavish carriage decorated with ormolu gold and the softest seats one could imagine. As she settled in, Celestina rather felt like royalty.

"This is beautiful," she said, looking around in awe and hoping to brush past the comment about her distress.

Richard followed her gaze. "It is an extravagance, I know. But it was one I couldn't resist."

"You always did like shiny things," she said, half smiling at him. "I always used to call you the magpie. Do you remember?"

He chuckled. "How could I forget? I suppose I've never grown out of that habit. Do you remember when I stole mother's silver bell? She was positively furious."

Celestina laughed. "I hope stealing things is something you've grown out of, at least."

He threw her a withering look. "Of course. What do you take me for?"

She smiled warmly at him, all the fondness of their friendship rushing back to her. She'd always felt so comfortable in Richard's presence as if she could be who she truly was. The real Celestina, and not the carefully constructed version of her that she had given her parents and David.

"You haven't changed a bit, you know," she said, her eyes roving across his face. He was as handsome as he'd always been, albeit with bigger whiskers.

"You mean apart from these streaks of grey?" he said, touching the strand of hair that fell over his forehead, poking out from beneath his top hat.

"No." She shook her head. "You always were an old man, even when we were children."

He looked at her in shock for a moment but then quickly realized she was joking. He laughed, leaning over to knock her shoulder with his. "I can't believe I'd forgotten about your wit."

She smiled. "We laughed a lot in those days, didn't we?"

He nodded sagely. "We did. What is it about growing up that stops the laughter?"

"Life gets in the way, I suppose."

They fell into a contemplative silence. Celestina could think of many reasons why she no longer laughed, though she didn't want to think about any of them. Here, in Richard's presence, she felt lighter and happier than she had done in such a long time, and, for the moment at least, she wanted to embrace that.

"Now that we're in contact with one another," he said, "perhaps we can laugh a little more."

"Perhaps," she replied, smiling as she gazed at him, though she knew it could never be. The carriage trundled through the streets of London, rocking them gently, and still they gazed at one another as if the memory held them there.

"Do you remember how we used to chase one another through the woods between our estates?" he asked.

"No!" She shook her head as she laughed. " You used to chase me. I never did the chasing. You terrorized me."

"It was nothing you didn't want," he protested, and she grinned because it was true. "Why, I remember plenty of times when playing such games was your choice."

She shrugged. "It was good fun, though, wasn't it? The cool wind in our hair, the crunch of the leaves underfoot. Mother always hated it when I returned home with muddy, torn gowns, though. Such games are for boys , she would say. Not sweet little girls like you ."

Richard chuckled. "She never did know you very well, did she? Life feels so very different now."

"I doubt you could chase me through the trees any longer, at least."

"And neither would I want to. Why run through the woods when you can sit down with tea and cake and maybe a brandy instead?"

"That is a fair point indeed," Celestina said.

The carriage pulled into the driveway of her estate, and as the house came into view, real life came flooding back to her. She'd quite forgotten the desperation of her situation as she and Richard had talked. It was just like it had been when they were children, and now she had to return to … to what? To a home that would soon not be hers, and then she truly would have nothing.

She sighed as she looked at the house. She'd always adored it. David had picked it especially for her, knowing she would like the Gothic style architecture and the quiet of the surrounds.

Sensing the return of her tension, Richard said, "The offer still stands, you know?"

"I know." She smiled gratefully at him. "You always did look out for me."

"As friends do," he said, nodding his agreement. "I know you are a proud woman, Celestina, and rightly so. But please, at least think about it, won't you?"

For the briefest of moments, Celestina wanted to give into him. She wanted to give herself over to him entirely, just as she had wanted to all those years ago.

But she couldn't do it then, and she couldn't do it now.

"Yes," she replied. "I promise to think about it—but nothing more."