Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

“ C ece…”

“Cece, did you hear what I said…”

“Cecilia?”

Evie’s voice broke through Cecilia’s daze, still she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the approaching figures.

“I—what?” Cecilia stammered, her heart skipping several beats as she watched the noblemen return from their hunt. The sound of hooves echoed against the cobblestones, a rhythmic beat that quickened her pulse.

Evie chuckled softly, nudging her. “I said I’m glad the men are back from their hunt. Look at them, all rugged and wild. I hope it went well. Do you think they bonded as intended…”

Evangeline’s words faded away as Cecilia’s breath hitched; Alistair coming into full view, his tall frame silhouetted against the fading sun. She could barely even notice her brothers beside him as her eyes drowned in this moment.

The duke wore a dark, fitted riding coat that clung to his broad shoulders, accentuating his muscular build. His hair, in contrast to last night’s perfect styling , was tousled and wind-swept, giving him a raw, untamed allure.

As he dismounted, the remnants of the hunt clung to him—stains of blood marking his shirt and trousers, a testament to the day’s exertions. He looked worn but striking, his chiseled jawline shadowed with stubble, enhancing the ruggedness that made her pulse quicken.

What is happening to me?

“—charming, don’t you think?” Evie’s voice faded back in, but Cecilia barely heard her. All she could focus on was the way Alistair’s piercing blue eyes scanned the area, a hint of exhaustion dancing within them.

“He’s… annoyingly captivating,” Cecilia finally managed to murmur, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Who?”

Cecilia froze.

Oh no.

For a moment, she could not bring her eyes to turn to Evie. Millions of excuses swirled through her mind, none of them sensible enough.

“The… spoils look captivating. I’m surprised they managed to land animals that large,” she forced a chuckle as words finally tumbled out her mouth. “It seems they took the hunt very seriously , given their appearances.”

She still couldn’t look Evie in the eye and she felt the lady staring at her oddly, but thankfully, did not say anything else.

Tristan and Nathaniel rode past at this moment, their laughter ringing in the air as Tristan instantly began teasing Nathaniel and his soon-to-be bride, but all Cecilia could focus on was Alistair.

He hung back, a hint of apprehension in his posture, as if he were weighing joining in the conversation. The way his broad shoulders tensed and relaxed with each breath was mesmerizing.

“Evie, come on! You have to admit he looks rather dashing, even if he is a bit worse for wear,” Tristan nudged her, finally off his horse, a playful grin on his face. Evangeline’s cheeks were flushed, and she could hardly muster a response.

Alistair stepped forward at last, his gaze locking onto his sister. “What are we discussing here?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, sending shivers down Cecilia’s spine. The way he leaned slightly closer, the warmth radiating from him, made her feel dizzy.

“Just admiring the view,” Tristan teased, glancing between Nate and Evie once again. “You know, the rugged noblemen returning from the hunt.”

Cecilia winced, recalling Alistair’s lack of humor. She awaited the odd silence. However, as the seconds ticked by, she looked up to find what seemed like amusement in the duke’s eyes.

Alistair clucked his tongue. “Rugged, you say? I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment. After all, I exerted myself the most in our little bet.”

Tristan’s laughter echoed the field as he slung a hand easily over the duke’s shoulders, “Indeed, you are right, Your Grace. I believe I still owe you a round of drinks?”

Cecilia’s jaw tilted slightly at the sight before her. She turned to Evie to be certain someone else was seeing what she was. She found confirmation in the shocked expression mirroring hers.

Evie’s expression shifted from surprise to glee and she smiled triumphantly at Cecilia, who turned back to the men with a small smile before exchanging another look with her. It appeared the hunt had been successful after all.

“Have you two become as close as sisters at last, having had the whole day to converse?” Alistair’s sudden question was surprising, pulling Cecilia’s eyes back to him.

Evie was quick to answer, but she found herself momentarily speechless. He was staring… right at her.

The way he looked at her, with a mix of curiosity and something deeper, made her feel tingly all over. She subconsciously caught a whiff of him, being so close—earthy and intoxicating, with a hint of leather that made her heart flutter.

“Cecilia, are you even listening?” Evie’s voice broke through the spell that had been cast over her. Reluctantly, she shifted her gaze from the men as they began heading inside.

“Sorry, what?” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. She had been utterly captivated by Alistair’s striking features—the way his dark hair fell just above his brow, flattened with sweat.

“Are you alright?” Evie asked, her tone shifting to one of concern. “You look a bit flushed.”

“Just a little cold,” she replied, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a squeak. She glanced back at Alistair, who was now engaged in conversation with Tristan, his laughter rich and inviting. There was something magnetic about him, the way he commanded attention without even trying.

Evie raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief dancing in her gaze. “I said we should head inside and get ready. Dinner will be soon.”

Cecilia nodded, desperately hoping Evie would attribute the heat radiating from her cheeks to the brisk air. She could hardly meet her friend’s eyes, feeling the weight of her embarrassment.

What is wrong with you?

You need to get it together, Cecilia.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever the evening would hold, her pulse racing with anticipation as she followed Evie, leading the way inside.

“Can you believe the magnitude of this feast?” Evie clasped her hands as she exclaimed, her eyes wide as she gestured to the extravagant spread before them.

Cecilia laughed, her gaze drifting from the towering roast to the delicate pastries that seemed to glisten under the candlelight. “It’s like they’re trying to feed an army! I’m not sure I can eat by mere looking at all this.”

“Challenge accepted!” Evie grinned, her playful spirit infectious. “Truly, this looks incredible. I’ve never seen so many desserts in one place.”

As they chattered on, the conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by bursts of laughter. Cecilia couldn’t help but admire Evie’s animated expressions; her dark curls bounced as she spoke, framing her face and highlighting her bright, expressive eyes.

“I say, if I eat more than two of those pieces of cake, I truly might explode,” Cecilia joked, her cheeks flushing slightly as she eyed a generous slice of chocolate cake.

Evie leaned in, a conspiratorial gleam in her eye. “You know what? Life is too short to skip dessert. Besides, we can always dance it off later!”

Cecilia’s heart warmed at her soon-to be sister-in-law’s carefree attitude. It reminded her of her own preferred approach to life, always seeking joy in the little things. “You’re right! I’m all for dancing off the weight. What’s the point of a celebration if we can’t enjoy it?”

Their laughter mingled with the soft clinking of cutlery and the gentle hum of conversation around them. As they shared stories about their childhoods, Cecilia discovered they both had a penchant for adventure.

They exchanged tales of unconventional acts and their shared love for late-night stargazing. Cecilia felt an undeniable bond forming. Their personalities matched seamlessly.

“Wait no longer, here we are at last!” Tristan’s voice was light with playful sarcasm as he and Nathaniel strolled into the dining room, their laughter echoing off the walls.

Louisa chuckled from where she sat opposite the dowager duchess, shaking her head. “How delightful . We’ve been waiting for the entertainment to arrive.”

As the brothers settled into their seats, Cecilia noticed Evie’s gaze lingering on Nathaniel. She chuckled lightly, unable to hide her smirk at the obvious admiration.

“Evie, you could at least try to control the stares until you’re both fully wedded, don’t you think?” Cecilia teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

The young lady’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she quickly turned her head, feigning innocence. “I wasn’t staring! I was just… um, admiring the decor!”

“Sure, the decor,” Cecilia replied, biting back laughter. “But you might want to be careful.”

“Cecilia!” Evie exclaimed, her voice a mixture of embarrassment and laughter, her eyes darting around the table nervously.

Unfortunately, Tristan seemed to have caught on to the teasing, and pointed from where he sat, grinning as he teased. Evie buried her face in her hands, but the laughter that escaped her was undeniable.

As the brothers continued to joke and tease, despite the weather, the atmosphere in the room was filled with warmth.

Alas, the room fell into an expectant hush as the last guest entered, the duke. Alistair stepped through the doorway, and time seemed to suspend for a moment.

He looked impeccably clean and undeniably handsome, a striking contrast to the wild, rugged look he had sported after the hunt. Cecilia found herself comparing these looks; tousled and charming one moment, utterly polished and controlled the next.

She felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks as she realized her train of thought.

It is terribly wrong to be having such thoughts as a lady, truly what is the problem with you these days, Cecilia?

From the corner of her eye, she caught Evie’s curious expression, a mixture of amusement and surprise. The realization that she had been caught staring sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her, and she quickly averted her gaze, feeling flustered.

How could she be so obvious? Yet, as she shifted her eyes, she couldn't help but glance back at him. Alistair’s frame was cold yet inviting. He was like a confection, sweet and tempting, and it was entirely understandable that she found herself drawn to him.

But was it merely physical attraction? She wrestled with her thoughts, attempting to convince herself that her fascination was simply that—a fleeting moment of admiration.

Eugh. It must be the cold.

There is no way that man is anything worthy of looking at twice.