Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

“ G randmother, I’m hoping the flowers will bloom earlier next year. Wouldn’t that be a sight?”

Cecilia smiled, her voice filled with curiosity as they strolled through the snow covered gardens of the Holloway estate. The weak sunlight shone through beads of snowflakes and droplets, and a small rainbow was high in the sky.

The dowager countess smiled gently. “Wouldn’t it depend on the warmth of the spring, my dear? You know better than us all, nature has its own rhythm.”

Cecilia nodded, her heart swelling with affection for her grandmother. The woman had paid attention to her son’s interests, and now she was the only one Cecilia could have these conversations with. “I’ve been studying the local flora more. I want to document how different plants adapt to their environment. It’s fascinating how resilient they are.”

Louisa’s eyes sparkled with pride. “You have such a passion for this, dearest. It reminds me of my youth when I chased after my own dreams. But tell me, how does this fit into your aspirations of becoming a writer?”

Cecilia smiled, the weight of her ambitions heavy on her shoulders. “I shall be writing about the plants and animals I research, of course, grandmother.”

“But your suitors, dear,” Louisa interjected, concern etched on her face. “They want to marry you. They see a future with you, but you seem so determined to remain a spinster.”

Cecilia chuckled. It was just like the Dowager Countess to change a topic so quickly. “As you know, I’ve turned down many proposals, Grandmother. I do not mind proposals nor marriage, but I do fear having it stifle my creativity. I want to write, to explore the world through my words. I can’t do that if I’m tied down.”

Louisa placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You mustn’t lose hope. There are men who will understand your ambitions. Remember, my dear, love can coexist with your dreams.”

Cecilia smiled wistfully, appreciating her grandmother’s wisdom. “I know, but for now, I choose to focus on my writing. I’ll carve my own path, even if it means walking it alone.”

She laughed, “Imagine giving up my dreams for a man, only to end up with someone like the Duke of Holloway!” Her laughter faltered as the name caught in her throat. She frowned, feeling the weight of her own thoughts creeping back in.

Ugh, why am I thinking about him again?

Louisa, raised an eyebrow and smiled gently. “But, he’s quite handsome and has a lovely estate. You could do worse, you know.”

“Worse?” Cecilia struggled to keep frustration out her tone. She did not want to think about him. “I’d rather take a stroll through the muddy fields with poisonous spiders. The man is insufferable.”

“Insufferable, perhaps, but he’s also charming in his own way,” Louisa attempted to soothe her granddaughter’s ire. “And think of the life you could have. A man like him could provide you with everything you need.”

Cecilia crossed her arms defiantly, her cheeks flushed with annoyance. “Everything I need? Or everything he thinks I need? I want to pursue my writing, not be confined to some grand estate where the only excitement is hosting tea parties!”

Louisa nudged her softly, leaning closer, and the old woman’s face filled with a smile, “You want my thought on the matter? I quite think the man would be a great match for you, in truth.”

Cecilia’s jaw dropped and she skidded to a halt, “Grandmother, I can’t believe you would even suggest nor consider that man!” Cecilia exclaimed, shaking her head vigorously as they wandered deeper into the gardens. “He’s-He’s infuriating! He’s so full of himself!”

Louisa chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “But he’s quite handsome and comes from a noble lineage. You could think about it, dearest. A man like him is likely to understand your fire and passion even.”

Cecilia scoffed, crossing her arms. “I’d rather wrestle a wild stag than spend my days in a marriage with someone like that man.”

“Oh, dear, I’d never want to touch a stag ?” Louisa mused, her thoughts drifting momentarily.

“Yes, dear grandmother,” Cecilia interrupted gently, trying to suppress a laugh as she steered her back to the topic at hand. “I’ll be just as pleased if the duke restricts himself to a stag here and there while we visit. ”

“Ah, right, the Duke!” Louisa said, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Well, he’s got a fine estate, and he’s quite the catch. You could do worse, dear.”

“As you have said,” Cecilia rolled her eyes, exasperated at the thought.

“But think of his charm!” Louisa persisted, her voice rising slightly in excitement. “He could introduce you to all sorts of influential people, perhaps even help spread the word about your works!”

Cecilia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Influential people of his caliber who would likely expect me to sit quietly and nod while discussing the latest fashions in cravats? No, thank you!”

“Ah, but what if a daring heroine found herself in a lovely estate, with a charming duke who adored her?” Louisa suggested, her voice taking on a dreamy quality.

“Grandmother, you’re mixing up your stories again,” Cecilia chuckled, shaking her head affectionately. “I’m not looking for a charming duke; I’m looking for inspiration to share knowledge. And I certainly don’t need a husband to find it.”

Louisa smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Inspiration can come in many forms, dear. Just remember, if you ever do decide to marry, make sure it’s someone who has as much gusto as you do, and can command a room.”

“Trust me, I’ll keep that in mind,” Cecilia replied, a grin spreading across her face as they continued their stroll, the gardens alive with color.

“Cecilia, my dear,” Louisa began again with a smile, “You remind me so much of myself at your age. I was just as stubborn about love, especially when it came to your grandfather. I swore I’d never marry a man who wore those ridiculous hats he favored.”

“You’ve mentioned this to me before, Grandmama,” Cecilia nodded with a smile. “The one about the hat and the rainstorm?”

“Oh, but it was such a lovely day!” Louisa continued, her eyes sparkling with nostalgia. “We were at the county fair, and there he was, all dapper and charming, until—oh dear, what was I saying?”

Cecilia raised a brow as her grandmother halted suddenly before continuing, “Ah, yes! Your parents! Such a romantic tale, those two. They met at a ball, and your father, bless his heart, tripped over his own feet right in front of your mother.”

Cecilia smiled at the memories that accompanied this story she’d heard many a times, though a shadow passed over her face. “Yes, and they danced the night away despite the embarrassment. It’s a beautiful story.”

“Oh my darling, I can’t help but feel sad sometimes. They were taken from us too soon,” Louisa’s tone fell as she let out a sigh.

Cecilia remained silent, feeling a familiar heaviness settle over her chest. Her grandmother’s expression softened, seeming to sense the shift in mood. “Oh, my sweet girl, I know it’s hard. But your parents loved deeply, and that love is in you. You have their spirit, their passion. Just like your father would say, ‘Life is an adventure, and love is the greatest journey of all.’”

“Another great adventure of his was forgetting to dust off the sand of his hands before eating, wasn’t it?” Cecilia teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ah, yes!” Louisa laughed, her eyes twinkling. “He was hopeless at keeping clean, bless him. But you see, love is about accepting the quirks, the imperfections. Your mother knew this, you can’t expect perfection, my dear.”

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the garden, Cecilia watched her grandmother’s eyes flutter. “You know, Grandmother,” Cecilia said softly, “I think you might need a nap. We’ve been talking for quite a while now.”

Louisa waved a hand dismissively, her laughter bubbling up. “Oh, nonsense! I’m just getting to the good part. Remember the time he tried to impress me with his horsemanship, and ended up falling into the pond?”

“Who?” Cecilia smiled, leaning in closer to support the old woman. “But yes, of course, you said you nearly drowned from laughing so hard. But really, you should rest. You’ve been up since dawn.”

“Dawn? Oh dear, I thought it was still evening!” Louisa’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Cecilia smiled once again at her grandmother’s forgetfulness.

“Why don’t we sit for a moment?” she suggested, guiding the Dowager Countess to a nearby bench. “Just for a bit.”

As Louisa settled down, she glanced around, admiring the sparkling white sight. “Such a lovely garden. It reminds me of the one we had back in the countryside. Do you remember, Cecilia? The roses were just as vibrant.”

Cecilia nodded, her heart swelling with affection. “I remember you teaching me how to prune them. You always said that a little care goes a long way.”

“Ah, yes! Pruning! Such a delicate art,” Louisa mused, her voice growing softer. “I must have taught you well. Your father did most of the work, however.”

Cecilia smiled, watching as Louisa’s eyelids grew heavier. “You did, Grandmother. You and him both. You taught me all I know about love and life.”

With a final yawn, Louisa leaned back against the bench, her breathing steadying. Cecilia gently took her hand, feeling a warmth that filled her with comfort. “Rest now, Grandmother. I’ll be around here.”

After finding help to return her mother back inside to rest properly in her chambers, Cecilia returned to her stroll through the garden. The soft crunch of snow beneath her boots breaking the serene silence of the winter landscape. As she walked, her breath formed small clouds that dissipated quickly, mirroring the thoughts racing through her mind.

Suddenly, a loud rustling noise followed by frightening loud barks broke the tranquility, sending a jolt of adrenaline through her veins.

Her heart raced as she turned to see a large, fierce-looking dog barreling toward her.

Its powerful frame and bared teeth made her instincts kick in, and she ran, but not long before stumbling on a branch, falling to the wet, soft ground in a panic.

“No, no!” she gasped, stretching out a hand in a futile attempt to ward off the approaching beast.

But to her astonishment, the dog skidded to a halt just inches from her, its expression shifting from fierce to playful. It dropped to its front paws, tail wagging furiously, and began to lick her hand affectionately. Cecilia blinked in disbelief, her fear melting away as she processed the animal’s intentions.

“Whoa, you scared me!” she laughed, her voice a mix of relief and amusement. The dog, a massive dark coated animal with a careless canine grin, seemed to sense her change in demeanor. It bounded closer, nudging her with its nose, begging for attention.

Cecilia’s heart warmed as she reached out, her apprehension replaced by curiosity. “All right, all right ! I see you just want to play,” she cooed, her laughter bubbling forth as she scratched behind its ears. The dog responded with a delighted bark, rolling onto its back, exposing its belly for more affection.

“Who’s a big, silly boy?” she asked, her voice filled with affection as she leaned down to cuddle with him. The dog wriggled with joy, licking her face as she giggled uncontrollably.

“Cerberus! Come back here!” A loud voice rang out suddenly,s a mix of exasperation and urgency. Cecilia’s head snapped up, her heart racing a little as she recognized the familiar tone.

Alistair appeared at the edge of the garden, his dark hair tousled and glistening with sweat. He was clearly out of breath, his broad shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he approached.

“Cerberus!” Cecilia realized quickly this to be the name of the dog as the duke called again, his blue eyes widening in disbelief as he spotted the animal sprawled on the ground beside her, tail wagging enthusiastically.

It seemed he’d been running a lot as Cecilia couldn’t help but notice the way the duke’s shirt beneath his heavy coat seemed drenched in sweat, accentuating the muscles that defined his torso. She blushed furiously and quickly shook her head, berating herself for getting distracted by his appearance.

“What are you doing?” Alistair’s surprise had been replaced with his familiar stoic, condescending stare and he remained where he stood as though Cecilia was the plague, his brow furrowed, trying to coax the dog back to him. “You’ve never run away like this before.”

Cecilia lifted a brow, her fingers buried in Cerberus’s fur as the dog rolled onto his back, clearly being disobedient to it’s master, enjoying the attention. “He seems to want to play, Your Grace,” she spoke carefully.

Alistair’s expression darkened slightly, hands on his hips, a picture of frustration. “I can’t believe you’re acting like this. Cerberus, come!”

The dog, however, seemed to have other ideas, pawing at Cecilia playfully. She laughed, feeling a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the sun. “Honestly, I do not mind at all,” she spoke sheepishly, glancing up at him, their eyes locking for a brief moment. “Perhaps you should just let him enjoy himself for a while. He’s just being a dog.”

“It is far from your place to tell me what to do with my animal companion,” the duke growled, his voice low and edged with irritation. His blue eyes narrowed as he glared at her, the tension in the air thickening.

Even from where he stood, the shadow of his tall frame loomed over her, and for a moment, Cecilia felt a chill run down her spine, almost as if Cerberus himself had stepped back in deference to his master.

She blinked in disbelief, her heart racing. “I’m not sure I understand why you’re upset at me this time, Your Grace,” she replied, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves.

Alistair’s expression was fierce, terribly intimidating, and she found it amusing that he could appear scarier than his large, fearsome dog. The irony of the situation was not lost on her, though she fought to suppress a smile.

“Cerberus came to me, not the other way around,” she added, gesturing to the dog, who remained by her side, tail wagging in blissful ignorance of the brewing storm.

Alistair’s annoyance deepened, and a flash of confusion crossed his face. “Have you doused yourself in gravy or something? Is that why he’s fawning on you like that?” His tone was incredulous, as if he couldn’t fathom the idea that any creature might simply be drawn to her.

Cecilia felt a spark of indignation flare within her. “Could it not occur to you that perhaps he just simply likes me, Your Grace?” she retorted, crossing her arms defiantly. She was aware she was treading dangerous ground, arguing with a duke, but the instinct to defend herself surged forward.

Alistair stepped closer, the heat radiating from him nearly palpable. Cecilia caught a glimpse of the strong line of his jaw, clenched in frustration. “My animal does not fraternize with just anyone. Especially…”

He looked her up and down and Cecilia swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. The way he stood, shoulders squared and posture commanding; he was itching for an argument, it seemed.

“All animals can be friendly, Your Grace. Adding to that, Cerberus is a dog, not a soldier to be commanded,” Cecilia responded, her voice wavering slightly despite her best efforts.

Alistair’s eyes bore into hers, as though searching for something, and for a moment, she hesitated, the panic rising in her chest, unsure if she should back down or stand her ground.

“Sitting on the floor like that is hardly fitting for a lady, is it not?” The duke remarked suddenly, a hint of disdain lacing his voice as he change the to.

Cecilia shot him a glare, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “I beg your pardon? I wound up this way because your dog practically threw me down here, Your Grace!”

She pushed herself off the floor, brushing off her skirts with a huff, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. The sight of Cerberus, blissfully oblivious, trotting back to his owner at last only aggravated her further.

“My dog has impeccable taste, I assure you, it would not be surprising to discover you beckoned him over, not at all,” Alistair snorted, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips.

He knelt to pat the dog, his fingers tangling in the thick fur, and for a moment, Cecilia felt a pang of envy at the ease with which he commanded both the animal and the space around him.

“You’re following me again, aren’t you? That is what this is?” Alistair lifted a brow as he rose to his feet, glancing at her nonchalantly, his casual stance only fueling her irritation.

Cecilia took a deep breath, grounding herself. “I’m not following you, Your Grace. I’m out here for my research,” she countered immediately.

“Research? And what would that be? An excuse to stalk me in my own estate?” Alistair shot back, his blue eyes sparkling with arrogance. It had been a few days since their last banter and it felt electric, and despite herself, Cecilia felt a flutters and tingles at the unfolding event.

“Stalk you? Believe me I have better things to do than chase after a duke,” she retorted, her tone sharper than intended.

“Better things? Like sitting on the floor?” Alistair quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Cecilia clenched her jaw, knowing she shouldn’t rise to his bait, yet unable to resist. “It’s much better than staying cooped up in a stuffy study, unable to interact with a sibling’s soon-to-be family,” she snapped, her heart racing.

She drew in a breath, worried she might’ve gone too far. However, the duke’s expression shifted from a surprised, to a pleasantly smug smile.

“Paying attention to my schedule a tad too much, now, are we?”

Cecilia’s breath caught, and she hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. “I—” she began, the words tangling in her throat. It was maddening how he could unsettle her with just a look.

“See? You’re speechless,” He went on, a triumphant smile breaking across his face. “Now, unless you can quickly think up a lie to defend your actions, I’d assume your ‘research’ does not exist either.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Cecilia wished the reddening of her cheeks would vanish.

“So there is no research, and you stepped into the gardens to pursue me, once again?” Cecilia was tempted to slap his smirk off his face.

“Fine! I’m researching the relationship between local flora and fauna.” Her voice was once again, sharper than intended.

As she spoke, she noticed the way his gaze sharpened, taking in her flushed cheeks and the slight tremor in her hands. “That is it? That’s what makes you tick? Surely you can find more suitable pursuits than studying plants and animals,” he spoke, his tone shifting to one of curiosity, a hint of challenge lurking beneath.

Cecilia’s heart raced, her instinct to defend her passion rising to the surface. “I refuse to dismiss the importance of understanding nature. I t deserves attention.”

Alistair’s expression filled with confusion, and he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, making her pulse quicken. “But why focus on something so… unconventional? Most ladies wouldn’t bother with such trivialities.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she faltered under the weight of his gaze. “You don’t know me, Your Grace. You don’t know what I’m capable of with my talents.”

His eyes seemed to study her intently, and she felt all so vulnerable in the moment. “And what is it that you hope to achieve? Recognition? Fame?” His voice was low, almost teasing, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

Cecilia clenched her fists, feeling the heat of her determination mingling with an unwelcome attraction. “It’s not about recognition. It’s about passion and discovery. I want to learn something meaningful.”

As she spoke, she noticed the way his gaze shifted, taking in her flushed cheeks and the slight rise and fall of her chest. She was panting a bit, but not from exertion. He was close now, only about three feet away.

“It would be better to consider looking for a husband instead of wasting your energy on this,” he shrugged, his tone shifting to one of seriousness at last.

Cecilia scoffed. “I shall find a husband when the time is right. For now, I will not settle for anything less than the man of my dreams, someone who will accept me and my passions.”

Alistair’s expression hardened for a moment, before his lax gaze returned. “You’re dreaming if you think such a man exists. Most ladies don’t even entertain such fantasies. You are to be happy with whatever you get.”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, and she fought the urge to step back. “You wish for a fairy tale, Miss Everton.” His voice was low, almost mocking. “Do you really believe that your… research is worth more than a proper education in the arts and social graces?”

“I believe that understanding the world around us is of utmost importance,” she retorted, her voice steady despite the nerves in her stomach. “You might find that women can have interests beyond embroidery and music.”

Alistair raised an eyebrow. “Ah, but those pursuits are what society values. Your passion for plants and animals is—dare I say—unconventional.”

“And what do you know of unconventional? You’re a duke, Your Grace. Your world is filled with expectations and norms. Perhaps you haven’t met enough women who would be honest enough to challenge those standards.”

He pushed himself forward till he was staring right down at her, the intensity of his gaze making her pulse quicken. “Perhaps you underestimate the women I’ve encountered. They are not all as… spirited as you.”

“Spirited? Is that what you call it? I call it having a mind of my own.” In the cold, she could feel the heat radiating from his body once again, making it difficult to think clearly.

“Yet you seem so hesitant to defend your passion,” he countered, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he seemed to observe her face, taking in her expression.

“You don’t understand what it’s like to be dismissed for your interests. It is a tiring loop I have grown weary of engaging in.”

Alistair’s expression shifted, a flicker of something softer in his eyes, but she couldn’t linger on that. “You’re much too young to understand the reality of life, perhaps,” he said, his tone more serious. “Still, you are not getting any younger, you shall be a spinster soon.”

Cecilia growled at him, feeling sweaty despite the cold, her frustration boiling over.

Why does he always get so close?!

She felt the panic rising within her, the fear that she might say something truly inappropriate, considering her bothered state. “I think I’ve said enough. I’ll take my leave now.”

Before he could respond, she turned sharply, storming away from him. “You do not know everything as you believe you do, Your Grace!” she called over her shoulder, her heart pounding as she fled the grounds, desperate to escape the overwhelming heat of him.