Page 57

"Well then." Harriet smoothed her skirts, though her hands trembled slightly. "I suppose I should help Elizabeth pack her things properly this time. Since it seems she'll be staying."

"Harriet," Elizabeth breathed, pulling away from Cecil to embrace her sister. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Harriet mumbled into her shoulder. "I still reserve the right to change my mind if he ever hurts you again."

"Of course you do," Elizabeth laughed softly. "Though I suspect you'll have to get in line behind his sisters."

"Ah yes, the formidable Ladies Emily and Madeleine," Cecil said dryly. "They've already promised me various creative forms of torture should I ever hurt Elizabeth again."

Elizabeth pulled back from her sister's embrace, surprise evident in her expression. "Your sisters knew you were coming here?"

A flash of sheepishness crossed Cecil's face. "They practically forced me to come," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "Though I suspect they would have dragged me here themselves if I'd waited much longer."

"And how exactly did they convince the mighty Earl of Stonefield to do anything?" Harriet asked, her tone caught between curiosity and amusement.

"You've never met my sisters, Miss Cooper," Cecil said with a wry smile. "Emily threatened to tell every eligible young lady in London about the time I fell into the duck pond at Lady Rutherford's garden party."

"You didn't!" Elizabeth gasped, delighted. "When was this?"

"I was twelve," Cecil defended himself, though his eyes danced with humor. "And Madeleine had just pushed me."

"What did you do to deserve that?" Harriet asked, clearly warming to the conversation.

"I may have...hidden a frog in her reticule." At Elizabeth's shocked laugh, he added, "In my defense, she had ruined my favorite riding crop the week before."

"And Emily?" Elizabeth pressed. "What was her threat?"

Cecil's expression turned pained. "She promised to tell you about the time I tried to impress Miss Katherine Blackwood by reciting poetry."

"Oh, this I must hear," Harriet said eagerly, perching on the edge of a nearby chair.

"Another time, perhaps," Cecil deflected smoothly. "For now, I believe your sister mentioned something about packing?"

Harriet pouted but rose from her seat. "Very well, my lord. Keep your secrets for now." She paused at the door, her expression growing serious once more. "I expect both of you at dinner next week. Someone needs to keep an eye on you two."

"We would be delighted," Elizabeth said warmly.

"Splendid." Harriet's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Perhaps then you can tell us about this poetry recital, my lord."

Before Cecil could respond, she slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. The sudden silence felt weighted with possibility, and Elizabeth found herself acutely aware of Cecil's presence at her back.

He stepped closer, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders, thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. "Alone at last," he murmured, his breath stirring the loose curls by her ear.

Elizabeth shivered, leaning back against his chest. "You're changing the subject," she accused softly. "I want to hear about this poetry."

"Do you now?" His lips brushed her temple. "I'd rather tell you something else entirely."

Cecil turned her gently in his arms, cupping her face in his hands with such tenderness that her breath caught. His thumb traced the edge of her scar with a reverence that made her heart ache.

"I love you," he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I should have said it properly before, not in the midst of all my desperate explanations. I love you, Elizabeth Gillet, more than I ever thought possible."

Elizabeth's heart soared at hearing her married name from his lips. "Cecil, I?—"

"Let me finish," he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers. "When I left, I convinced myself I was protecting you. That youdeserved better than a man who couldn't trust, who couldn't open his heart fully." His fingers trembled against her skin. "But I was wrong. So terribly wrong. The only thing I succeeded in doing was breaking both our hearts."

"And now?" Elizabeth whispered, her hands coming up to grip his wrists. "What's different?"

"Now I know that loving you isn't a weakness." His eyes searched hers intently. "It's the bravest thing I've ever done. The best thing I've ever done."