Page 75 of A Flaming Lady's Secret Valentine
Oh, brother . . . What have you done now?
“Cecilia,” the duke greeted coolly.
“You are still here. I suppose that says something of your combined spirit. I will not apologise for what I said earlier. I cannot apologise, not when my trust has been broken. That being said,” he took a breath in, “your brother has convinced me that your choice of husband has little bearing on our family in the end.
He made the point that your social exile would be far more damaging. I am not convinced Lord Radcliff will see it as such, but as far as I am concerned, I will not allow him to tyrannise you a moment longer. Nor will I force you into leading a life that you are so adamantly against.”
“Papa,” Cecilia mewled. Her eyes were heavy with tears. “It means so much to hear you say that. Does this mean you accept the match?”
Her father looked at Raphael and nodded.
“I do, on the condition we proceed in total legitimacy. I have been convinced to reconsider your position, Mr Travers. My son has informed me that he should like to employ you himself as the manager of his continental properties. If you are equal to the task, we could secure voyage for you by the end of the week.”
Edward grinned. “Conveniently, it should dumb much of the scandal when we announce your match, and keep you far away from Lord Radcliff. Tell them the rest, father.”
“The rest is this,” the duke echoed.
“If you are inclined, Cecilia, I should encourage you to travel with him,chaperonedat all times. I have no understanding of your match, no confidence in it. Grant me this at least. Spend a few months coming to know one another seriously on the continent. If you are still determined to marry upon your return, so be it. I will not oppose it.”
“Your Grace,” Raphael uttered, “thank you.”
The duke said nothing in return, but Cecilia was sure his lips quirked slightly in a smile. When the duke and duchess returned indoors, Cecilia and Raphael celebrated with the others. It seemed too good to be true. Everything had worked out in the end.
But there was still the question of Edward’s mysterious favour. When Raphael had left to inspect his cottage, and Daphne had hurried home to her fretting mother, Cecilia and Edward walked the garden on their own, arms locked like when they were children.
She pulled him to a stop, looking up at him earnest. “So, what did you say to convince father in the end? I know he did not reach such a sensible conclusion on his own.”
“It was simple, sister. I offered our parents something they could not refuse in return.”
“And what would that be?”
Edward paused dramatically. “That their eldest son should marry within the year, to the daughter of one of their steadfast allies.”
“You do not mean to say—”
“Indeed, sister. Lady Daphne and I are set to be married.”
THE END