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Ciara

She carefully folded the letter, sealing it with a wax stamp. The simple act of putting her thoughts into words felt like a small but significant step toward resolution. With a quiet sigh, she handed the letter to the servant waiting outside her door, instructing him to deliver it promptly.

She couldn’t believe how things were developing. She thought that things were wonderful with Jonathan, but he had to revert to the way things were in the beginning, hurting her in the process. She wondered if it was even possible for them to findtheir way back to each other. Obviously not if he wanted to have things as they agreed them to be in the beginning.

She inhaled deeply, deciding not to dwell on it any longer, at least during the dinner with her parents. That was yet another thing she was incredulous about. She was there, in her childhood home, not wanting to run away from it but actually, the opposite. She never thought that the doors to her home would open up as a sanctuary, and that was the case now.

She smiled, finding her way down to the dining room where her parents were waiting for her.

Only, they weren’t alone.

Ciara gasped.

“Hello my lost little sheep,” Mother Superior, the very figure from her painful past, said.

CHAPTER 33

“What is she doing here?” Ciara demanded, her voice rising in panic.

“You didn’t really think that you would be able to get away with all your wrongdoings?” her father asked, sounding genuinely incredulous.

Ciara felt as if the whole world was spinning around.

“Your behavior affects us all, you know,” he added.

Ciara was silent, completely stunned into speechlessness.

“For instance, that gown you are wearing now,” her mother pointed out. “One must always strive for a bit more elegance, don’t you think?”

Ciara couldn’t believe that with Mother Superior there, her mother was talking about her gown. And the woman just watched Ciara menacingly, as if biding her time. Then, she spoke.

“I have been called here with a plea for help,” Mother Superior finally said. “And I see why now.”

Ciara shook her head, petrified of Mother Superior and what she represented. She felt that same helplessness and lack of control that she was overwhelmed by before. It grabbed hold of her and refused to let go.

“There has been no improvement, Mother Superior,” Ciara’s mother said with a heavy sigh. “We were all hoping for some, but there is none.”

“Of course, there is none,” Mother Superior said disapprovingly. “She left the nunnery while she was still being molded into what she was supposed to become. The process stopped, and of course, she reverted to her old ways.”

“I mean, all her friends are all thriving in their social circles, also having married dukes and earls. At least, she managed that as well, but the rest…”

Her mother’s voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air. Ciara couldn’t believe that they were talking about her as if she weren’t even there.

Ciara’s heart sank. Her mother was so supportive when she was pouring her heart out about her argument with Jonathan, and now, it seemed that everything had turned upside down. She couldn’t make heads or tails of anything at that moment. All she knew was that she had been betrayed… once again.

“Really, Ciara, one would think you’d have a better handle on things by now. Your choices seem rather… questionable,” her mother said, her tone growing more caustic.

Lord Hartfield added. “Yes, it’s clear you’ve made some unwise decisions. Perhaps it’s time to reconsider your approach. That is why we knew that the only person who could help was Mother Superior.”

“Yes,” her mother added, “your behavior at the ball was rather… scandalous.”

Lord Hartfield took a sip of his wine, and then he continued. “Yes, your behavior with the Duke was highly inappropriate. It’s not becoming of a duchess.”

Her mother’s tone hardened. “Your conduct was utterly improper. The way you carried on with your husband, the public display of affection—such behavior is beneath you. A duchess should carry herself with dignity, not like a…”

She hesitated as if choosing her words carefully. “Not like a frivolous debutante.”

Ciara’s face was flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “I was simply enjoying the evening. I was with my husband?—”