Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

“ S ister, are you certain you are alright?” Tristan’s voice cut through the muffled sounds of the carriage, pulling Cecilia from her turbulent thoughts. She could feel other brother’s gaze on her too, filled with concern, but the weight of her heartache made it hard to meet their eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and continued to stare out the small window behind her, watching the blurred scenery of trees and fields pass by, unable to shake the memory of Alistair’s seldom smile and laughter, their shared moments in his estate, and the inexplicable look in his eyes as she departed that morning.

“You could talk to us, you know,” Nathaniel’s voice echoed gently, concern etched into the tone.

What do I say?

That I fell in love with a man who could never choose me for who I am?

Cecilia turned to him, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m all right, brother,” she lied again, her voice barely above a whisper.

Yet, her thoughts remained suffocating. She tried to convince herself that it was for the best, that perhaps her feelings for him would fade quickly over time, but each denial stung like a fresh wound.

Nathaniel leaned forward, his frame tense with worry. “You don’t look all right. You looked… sad.” His honesty pierced through her facade, and she bit her lip to hold back tears. He sighed, “Cece, about the duke-”

Suddenly, the carriage jolted to a halt, causing everyone to bump up from their seats and turn sharply, confusion flooding their senses.

“What just happened?” Cecilia asked, her heart racing noting they were no longer moving. The abrupt stop sent a ripple of tension through the carriage, and her brothers exchanged worried glances.

The carriage man’s voice carried through the window, muffled but urgent. “There is… someone… is… stopped us!”

Cecilia’s pulse quickened. Panic bubbled inside her, and she fought against it, trying to maintain composure.

Robbers, perhaps?

“Tristan, what’s happening out there?” Her voice trembled as she clutched the edge of her seat, her heart racing faster with each passing moment as the carriage suddenly felt like a cage.

“Stay calm, Cecilia,” he replied, his strong frame rising from his seat. He moved swiftly to the door, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I’ll see if I can pick up on what’s going on.”

“Do not open it yet, brother!” Nathaniel warned, eyes wide with worry. He remained close to their grandmother, who clutched him tightly, her frail hands shaking. The old woman’s silver hair glimmered in the dim light, her eyes wide with panic as she whispered prayers under her breath.

“Shh, it’s alright, Grandmother,” he murmured, trying to soothe her. “We shall be fine.”

Suddenly, the muffled sounds from outside grew louder, voices rising in urgency and Cecilia’s heart sank as dread filled her thoughts. Her breath came in short, frantic bursts. Her mind raced with horrifying scenarios—visions of being dragged away, of never seeing her family again. She pressed her palms against her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow.

Then, amidst the chaos, she heard it—a voice that sent a jolt through her.

“I must see her… Cecilia!”

It was unmistakable. Alistair’s voice, deep and urgent, cut through the noise like a beacon.

“It’s Alistair!” She turned wide eyed to her brothers, her voice rising with hope, “He’s out there!”

“Why would the duke be- Sister, wait!” Tristan shouted, but before he could act, she had sprung to her feet, her heart soaring as slipped past him with speed, her long hair flowing behind her like a comet’s tail.

“It’s the duke!” she yelled back, her eyes wide with determination.

“Cecilia, no!” Nathaniel called out, his voice laced with panic, but she was already out the door.

The air was cold and despite the sun struggling to let it’s streaks reach the ground, and there he was. Alistair stood a few paces away, his tall frame silhouetted against the pale backdrop of the winter landscape.

His dark hair, tousled by the wind, framed his angular face, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to shine brighter in the cold light. As he sighted her, a smile broke across his lips, illuminating his features and making her feel as if she were the only one in existence.

Am I dreaming?

“What are you doing out here, Your Grace?” Cecilia called out, her voice cutting through the crisp air as she climbed off the carriage completely. She lifted the hem of her dress, yet giving hardly a care in this moment about the snowy ground dampening it.

Each step felt heavy, the snow crunching beneath her boots as she made her way toward him, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and confusion. However, that moment halted as Alistair’s expression shifted, frustration stretching across his face.

“And there it is. You really have no sense of decorum, do you?” he began, his tone sharp and unyielding as he walked up to catch up with her. “A lady should know better than to trod carelessly in the snow like a wild thing.”

Cecilia’s brow furrowed in disbelief. “What do you mean? I came out here because you?—”

“The very first moment we met,” he interrupted, his voice rising slightly, “I knew you would be nothing but trouble.”

Caught off guard, Cecilia’s jaw tilted. She had expected some kind of warm reunion, she expected; she realized she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. “Your Grace, why are you saying this?” she protested, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

He stepped closer, his intensity all-consuming. “Everything about you is infuriating,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “The way you talk, the way you walk, even the way you laugh. It’s all so… unrefined.”

Cecilia’s heart pounded in her chest, confusion mingling with annoyance at this point. “You chased after my carriage, only to insult me?”

“You certainly never stop talking,” Alistair’s expression softened for a brief moment, as if he were wrestling with his own feelings. “You don’t understand,” his tone dripped urgency. “You’re more than just a nuisance to me. You’re were… delicious distraction I desperately tried to convince myself I could not afford.”

Cecilia felt a whirlwind of emotions surge within her. She had never seen this side of this man before, the vulnerability in his eyes, his movements, left her at a loss of words.

“Cecilia,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he had just sprinted a great distance. The cold air swirled around them, biting at their cheeks, yet somehow, all Cecilia felt was an odd warmth radiating from within just from being in his presence.

“And tell me now, why do you think I was so angry?” he continued, his voice low, almost a whisper against the howling wind. “I realized I was so uneasy only because it was that you weren’t talking to me, walking with me, laughing with me.” He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, “I wanted you all for me; from the very beginning, my soul knew you were what I needed, my Cecilia.”

His eyes, usually so guarded, now shimmered with an intensity that took her breath away. Cecilia’s heart raced, her breath hitching in her throat. “Your Grace, I—” she started, but the words caught in her throat as he took a step closer, closing the distance between them. The warmth of his body radiated toward her, pulling her in like a moth to a flame.

“I’ve never experienced so many feelings at once,” he confessed, his gaze unwavering. The urgency in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

“Alistair…” she breathed, her heart pounding like a drum. The way he looked at her, filled with passion and longing, made her pulse quicken. She fought the overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms, to lose herself in the warmth of his embrace.

“I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you,” he declared, his voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been a fool about it, because I’ve never felt this way before meeting you.” His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and Cecilia felt a rush of elation wash over her.

“The day you bumped into me,” Just as he seemed poised to reveal more, his gaze flickered over her shoulder. She turned slightly to see Nathaniel and Tristan watching them from a distance, their expressions unreadable. She blushed, and Alistair cleared his throat, shaking his head.

“I can’t let you leave for Scotland, the thought of never seeing you again… it hurts more than anything,” he said, his voice fierce, almost desperate.

Is this truly happening?

“Cecilia,” he breathed, suddenly dropping to one knee before her. The world seemed to tilt on its axis as her heart raced. “Will you make this repressed man the happiest to ever live by marrying me?”

Cecilia gasped, her breath hitching in her throat. It felt as if the very air around them had thickened, swirling with the weight of his words. She blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend the enormity of the moment.

Alistair’s intense blue eyes held her gaze, filled with a mixture of hope and fervor. “I would rather have you, as a writer, by my side than any other perfect duchess there is out there,” he declared.

Can someone pinch me to wake me from this dream?

The man she had admired, argued with, and secretly loved was kneeling before her, baring his soul. Alistair reached out, taking her hand in his, sending a jolt through her system that ignited a fire deep within her.

“Please, say something,” he urged, his voice barely above a whisper. “Argue with me like you always do.”

Cecilia couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that felt so liberating. She shook her head, drawing in a deep breath to steady herself. “You should try not insulting me the next time you confess your feelings,” she replied, feigning a frown.

Alistair’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that made her stomach flip. “I shall work on that,” he promised, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But the lightness between them was tinged with an undercurrent of tension, an urgency that electrified the air.

Cecilia bit her lip, her heart pounding as she searched his gaze for sincerity. “Do you truly agree with having a writer as your wife and duchess?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Without a moment's hesitation, he replied, “I agree, as long as it’s you.”

His words wrapped around her like a warm embrace. The sincerity in his voice, the determination in his eyes—it was all she had ever been wanting for a while.

“Alistair, of course, I’ll marry you!” Cecilia exclaimed, her voice a blend of excitement and disbelief. The words tumbled from her lips, like a match fueling a spark of joy in his eyes.

He rose from his knee, a wide grin breaking across his face, and before she could catch her breath, he swung her around effortlessly, their laughter echoing in the air.

“Cecilia, you’ve made me the happiest man alive!” he declared, his voice rich with emotion. He held her close, their faces mere inches apart, as he whispered sweet nothings that made her heart race.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you, to write our story together…” Their moment was electric, the world around them fading into a blur as they leaned in, their lips almost touching.

But just as the anticipation peaked, a loud throat clearing shattered the intimacy. Tristan and Nathaniel stood a few feet away, arms crossed and expressions mock-serious.

“Not so fast, Your Grace,” Tristan said, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “You don’t have our approval yet.”

Cecilia rolled her eyes, trying to suppress her laughter. “Really? You two are going to do this now?”

Alistair nodded, “Of course, I apologize, I should have followed due process,” he paused, turning to smile at Cecilia again in a way that made her melt, “I just couldn’t hold it in anymore, I had to let her know how I felt.

“Oh, absolutely, I have been in your shoes all right, brother,” Nathaniel chimed in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now. We’ve got a wedding to plan, and it’s going to be spectacular!”

Tristan stepped forward, his demeanor transforming into that of an overzealous wedding planner. “First off, the invitations must be vibrant! Think bold colors, something that will make people stop in their tracks.”

“Right, because nothing says ‘love’ like a dark green and pink invitation,” Nathaniel quipped, unable to hide his grin.

Tristan nodded vehemently, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “And we have to invite everyone we know, of course! I’m talking about the entire town, all men, women and animals alike. Oh, Your Grace, you’ll need to prepare for a crowd.”

Cecilia couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Are you serious? You want to invite everyone?” Knowing what her brothers were playing at, she couldn’t help but join in, “What about the people who just wave from across the street?”

“Exactly! Everyone needs to witness this union,” Tristan declared, nodding enthusiastically. “And of course, everything must be fresh, absolutely non-traditional!”

“Alright, alright! No amount of apologies would erase my previous mistakes, would they?” Alistair chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Payback’s a dish best served cold, Your Grace,” Nathaniel teased, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. The laughter that erupted from the group was infectious, the sound carrying in the breeze.

Just as the second round of teasing reached a crescendo, Louisa stepped off the carriage, her presence commanding yet gentle. “And who’s this man holding my granddaughter?” she inquired, her eyes narrowing in surprise.

Cecilia’s face lit up, her excitement bubbling over; the moment feeling all too surreal. She turned to her betrothed, soaking up his loving gaze with a gladdened smile before turning back to the dowager countess with a squeal.

“Grandmother! I’m getting married!”