Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

“ C are for another dance, my lady?” Lord Harrington inquired, his voice smooth and inviting as he released Cecilia from their dance. “I believe such shall make me the happiest man in the land.”

“Yet, I fear another would be considered inappropriate,” Cecilia laughed lightly and curtsied at him again. “I must return to my family,” she spoke with a polite smile, though her heart felt heavy.

The laughter and music of the ballroom faded slightly as she turned to seek out her brother, Nathaniel. But to her surprise, he was not where she had left him, and Tristan was just as elusive as before. A frown creased her brow, a sense of unease settling in her chest.

Just as she was about to retrace her steps, her eyes landed on Nathaniel. Relief washed over her, but it quickly turned to apprehension as she noticed his bride to-be beside him; and her brother.

The sight of Alistair made her stomach twist. She had spent the entire day trying to forget him, trying to ignore the memory of him kissing her. She still couldn’t figure out why he had done that. The answer that came was one she could not believe. She’d struggled to keep her eyes from him, using the eager Lord Harrington as a distraction.

Cecilia pulled in a sharp breath, her cheeks flushing as she caught Alistair’s gaze fixed on her. His eyes were dark, intense, and it felt as though he could see right through her. Yet, she had no idea what thoughts could be behind that composed exterior. All she knew was that his stare made her heart race and her palms sweat.

“Sister! Over here!” Nathaniel called, his voice breaking through her thoughts. She hesitated, the urge to flee surging within her, but there was no escaping now. With a resigned sigh, she approached them, forcing a smile onto her lips despite the flutter of anxiety in her stomach.

“Ah, there you are!” Evie beamed, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “We were just discussing the upcoming balls after ours. You must be excited!”

“Oh, of course, uh, why so?” Cecilia replied, her voice steady despite the tension coiling in her chest.

“Because you get to spend more time with Lord Harrington, of course!” Evie stated matter-of-factly.

Cecilia blushed a deep crimson and let out a surprised, awkward chortle. Her eyes instinctively shifted to Alistair, who stood with his arms crossed, his expression inscrutable. He looked striking in his tailored suit, the sharp lines of his jaw accentuated by the soft glow of the chandelier above.

“Your Grace.” Determined to have the upper hand, Cecilia dropped to a curtsy as it was their first interacting for the day.

“Are you enjoying the evening?” He asked, his tone casual, but there was an undercurrent of something more profound.

Why would you care?

“It’s lovely,” she replied, her gaze darting away from him, unwilling to let him see the tumult of emotions he stirred within her.

“Time flies when you’re having a good time,” Nathaniel chuckled, oblivious to the tension crackling between his sister and Alistair. Cecilia forced a laugh, her heart pounding as she felt Alistair’s eyes still on her, a weight that was thrilling and suffocating.

“As soon as you got out there, I knew it would be magical!” Evie exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Cecilia felt her cheeks heat up at the sudden attention. “It was all right,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but she could still feel the intensity of the duke’s stare.

“Just all right?” Evie pressed, her voice rising with enthusiasm. “You must tell me more! What did you talk about?”

Cecilia fumbled for words, her mind racing. “Um, we talked about ourselves, the upcoming society event and… the weather,” she offered, trying to downplay the encounter.

Evie gasped, her hands clasping together in delight. “The weather? Oh, Cecilia, you simply must have discussed something more thrilling than that!” She leaned in closer, her curls bouncing as she moved, and Cecilia couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s enthusiasm.

“Well,” Cecilia said, feeling the heat of Alistair's gaze still fixed on her, “he asked about my family and… my interests.” She hesitated, glancing at Alistair, whose expression remained unreadable. “It was just polite conversation.”

Evie squealed, her eyes wide with delight. “How delightful ! Lord Harrington is known for being quite the charmer. Did he smile at you? ”

Why is Evie so invested in this?

Cecilia felt a wave of confusion wash over her. For some reason as well, she felt guilty for sharing in front of Alistair. The feeling maddened her. “It was just a dance, Evie,” she said, trying to sound dismissive.

“Just a dance? I doubt it!” Evie teased, her laughter ringing in the air. “Did you not truly see the way he looked at you. It was as though you were the only person in the room!”

Cecilia chuckled nervously, but her laughter faltered as she finally met Alistair’s gaze. The intensity of his expression took her breath away.

Is that… jealousy?

But Cecilia quickly dismissed the thought. Alistair couldn’t possibly feel anything for her. She was just a friend, a mere companion in his world of privilege and power.

But then why did he kiss me?

The questions were never ending so but turned her attention back to Evie, desperate for anything to take her mind off of them. “Really, it was nothing,” she insisted.

“Do you see yourself ending up with a man like Lord Harrington, sister?” Nathaniel’s voice was quiet but to Cecilia, it was as though it cut through the chatter of the ballroom, his brow furrowed in genuine curiosity.

Cecilia raised an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback by her brother’s question. She glanced sideways at Evie, whose face was lit up with an almost childlike glee. The air around them felt charged, and Cecilia could sense the weight of Alistair’s gaze, though she dared not meet his eyes directly.

“Honestly, Nate,” she replied, forcing a light laugh, “I can’t say just yet. I believe I need to know a man, and for him to know me, before marriage even enters the question.” Her voice was steady, but inside, her heart raced.

Evie opened her mouth to interject, her eyes dancing with mischief, but before she could speak, Alistair stepped forward, his tall frame casting a shadow over their small group.

“Miss Everton,” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with an undercurrent of tension, “would you do me the honor of a dance?”

Cecilia blinked in surprise, her heart racing as she turned to face him fully. His hand was already outstretched, strong and inviting. Her breath hitched in her throat. The request hung in the air, and she felt a mix of exhilaration and dread.

She could feel Nathaniel’s eyes on her, assessing, while Evie’s delighted expression only deepened, oddly enough. Alistair’s gaze held a complexity that made her stomach twist. It was more of a command than a question. She could tell by his expression.

“I—” she stammered, caught off guard. She could see the way his jaw clenched slightly, a subtle sign of his frustration, perhaps at her hesitation. “But Your Grace, you should be dancing with Miss Kingman,” she protested, her voice trembling slightly. “This is what everyone expects.”

He raised an eyebrow, annoyance flickering in his deep-set eyes. “I have exhausted already the respectable amount of dance sessions with Miss Kingman for the evening,” he replied, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Surely, you can’t deny me this one dance, can you?”

Cecilia opened her mouth to argue once more, but he interrupted her, his tone turning slightly more serious. “Isn’t it best to give Nathaniel and Evie some space to converse? They are, after all, betrothed.”

She felt her resolve crumble under the weight of his reasoning. There was no way to refute him without sounding foolish. As she stared at Alistair’s hand, an internal battle raged within her. She wanted to take it, to feel the warmth of his touch, yet a sense of trepidation held her back.

What would this dance lead to?

What is he planning?

With a deep breath, she nodded, her heart pounding as she placed her hand in his. The moment their fingers intertwined, a spark ignited between them, sending a rush of warmth through her. Alistair’s grip was firm, yet gentle, guiding her toward the dance floor as the music began to swell around them.

As they moved into the rhythm, His presence was overwhelming. He towered over, the navy suit he wore hugging his broad shoulders perfectly, accentuating his athletic build. Cecilia felt small beside him, yet oddly protected.

“You’re a captivating dancer,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper. She could feel his breath against her ear, and it sent shivers down her spine.

“I—thank you,” she stammered, trying to focus on the steps rather than the way a sudden compliment from him sent jolts through her system.

Alistair’s eyes darkened as he studied her, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. “You know, I’ve been confused why you’ve been keeping yourself so distant from me,” he said, another hint of what oddly sounded like jealousy creeping into his tone.

Cecilia’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m not distant,” she replied, though the words felt hollow. She believed he could never harbor any true affection for her.

As they twirled across the floor, the tension between them grew thicker, and panic fluttered in her chest. The music swelled, wrapping around them like a cocoon, but all she could think about was the undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air, leaving her breathless.

Alistair’s hand rested firmly on the small of her back, guiding her with a confidence that made her heart race. She felt the heat radiating from him, a stark contrast to the coolness of the evening air.

“Do you truly believe that?” he asked suddenly, his voice low, as they began to sway to the music. “That you need to know a man before considering marriage?”

Cecilia met his gaze, and the intensity of his expression sent a shiver down her spine. “I do,” she replied, her voice steady despite the chaos inside her. “It’s important to understand one another.”

Alistair’s eyes darkened slightly, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if he was grappling with his own feelings. But as quickly as the thought surfaced, she dismissed it. He couldn’t possibly feel anything for her.

She felt his fingers splayed as they moved, if he were tracing the delicate contours of her body. Her heart raced wildly in her chest, a frantic drumbeat that echoed the rhythm of the music.

Cecilia’s breath hitched as she met his gaze once more, those deep eyes holding a tempest of emotions that set her aflame. The way he looked at her was intoxicating, as if he could see into the very depths of her soul. She felt alive, every nerve ending tingling as his fingers brushed against her bare arm, igniting a fire that coursed through her veins.

Alistair leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Are you really going to marry Lord Harrington?” his voice cut through the music, sharp and unexpected.

Cecilia froze, her heart pounding as surprise washed over her. The warmth of their dance suddenly felt cold.

“I doubt that’s any of your business, Your Grace,” she replied, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She pulled away slightly, creating space between them as she tried to regain her composure. The softness in his eyes turned into a storm, and she could see the hurt behind his bold facade.

“Is it not?” he challenged, stepping forward, closing the gap. “You’re about to tie yourself to a any man. How can you even consider it?”

Cecilia’s breath quickened, her pulse racing with anger and confusion. “You don’t understand anything about me or my life! You don’t get to judge my choices.” She scoffed, “And nothing has been finalized yet. I do not need your opinion,” she retorted, her voice trembling slightly.

Alistair’s grip tightened around her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as if anchoring himself to her. Cecilia gasped at the sudden tightened grip. “You shall have it and be glad for it, Miss Everton.”

“Why do you seem so irritated, Your Grace?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft strains of the waltz. Alistair’s jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with frustration.

“Because you’re pretending this is all fine,” he shot back, his tone low but fierce. “You need to get married at some point, and this is all clear. However, you can’t dance through life and make unplanned decisions.”

Cecilia’s heart raced, and she fought to keep her voice steady. “I believe it is my life, Your Grace. I just don’t see why I have to follow the path everyone expects of me.” She glanced around, her gaze darting to the other couples swirling gracefully, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing between them.

Alistair stepped closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “You can’t keep avoiding the truth. You’ll end up trapped in a life you didn’t choose.”

“Trapped?” she echoed, her voice rising slightly. “I have dreams. I want to be an author. As I’ve said, marriage would only hold me back anyway.”

“You can’t just ignore reality. You think you can write your way out of it?” His eyes bore into hers, searching for understanding. “You’ll be expected to fulfill your duties, to bear children and be a proper lady.”

“Why does any of that matter to you?” she exclaimed, her frustration bubbling over. Their dance faltered as the music swelled, the moment heavy with unsaid words.

Talk to me, Alistair.

Tell me how you really feel. Stop confusing me, please.

Sadly, she was met with silence. As the final notes of the waltz played, Cecilia felt the weight of the world pressing down on her. She pulled away, breaking the connection between them, her heart pounding in her chest.

With that, she turned and walked away, the crowd parting around her as she made her exit, leaving Alistair standing alone, the ache of their unresolved argument lingering in the air like a fading melody.