Page 45 of His Scandalous Duchess (Icy Dukes #4)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

C ecilia stood before the door, her hand resting on the brass knob, cool and still beneath her fingertips.

The soft fabric of her dry gown clung to her, freshly changed, but her skin still felt feverish with the memory of the lake.

Her hair, loosely pinned, still held the scent of wild water and fear.

She had almost drowned, but for some reason, she couldn’t even dwell on that fact.

She had every mind to turn back, to not open the door, to let Valentine wait until his pride wore thin and he left on his own. But she knew he wouldn’t.

Her heart beat steadily, then faster, then faster still.

It wasn’t rage that carried it forward now, it was dread.

That this talk, when it finally happened, would be the end.

Whatever stood trembling between them would finally break and fall into something that couldn’t be repaired.

But she had to face it. Not because she wanted closure. Not because she wanted to beg.

But because of Abigail.

She could not vanish again, not when she had promised Abigail she wouldn’t. If Valentine no longer wanted her, that was his decision. She would accept it. She would not fight him. But she would fight for her place in Abigail’s life.

If he could not love her, he would at least let her love his daughter.

Her fingers tightened on the knob. Her forehead brushed the door’s edge, and for a moment, she closed her eyes and let her breath steady itself as she opened the door to him.

Once the door opened, she found him there, waiting, as though he had not moved from that spot all along.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

She saw that he, too, had changed and was no longer in the soaked shirt and breeches from the lake, but in a fresh waistcoat and a clean linen shirt, though his dark hair was still damp at the edges, curling slightly.

No words passed between them as they made their way to the bed, both sinking onto its edge.

A full hand’s breadth of space separated them, like an invisible wall neither had the courage to cross.

Cecilia looked down at her hands, laced tightly in her lap.

She could hear his breathing. Could feel the tension in the mattress, in the air between them.

Then he spoke. “I was afraid. I’ve been afraid for a long time, Cecilia.”

His gaze dropped to his hands now, the fingers flexing open and then curling back in.

“For the past six years, I have been carrying guilt. When I told you about Helena, that night, I left out how I blame myself for her death. I reckon that if she had not met me, her life would have been so different.”

Cecilia turned to him, gently surprised by the direction of their conversation.

“The day she died, she said things to me,” he continued. “I don’t know why they affect me so much, and why they cling to me till this day, but I can say that they shaped the man I became from then on.”

Cecilia’s eyebrows furrowed. “What did she say to you?”

Valentine smiled faintly. “Bitter, angry, curses,” he answered. “She was so angry that she yelled at me until the light left her eyes. I never lived that down, and I guess I let the guilt convince me that I did not deserve love or happiness because I stole someone else’s.”

He turned to her then, finally meeting her eyes. “But then you came.”

Her throat tightened, but she said nothing. Her eyes, too, stayed on him.

“You frightened me more than anything, Cecilia,” he said with a strained smile. “Because I began to feel again. Because I began to hope. I couldn’t make sense of it. I kept thinking you’d see how damaged I was and leave. So, it was easy not to let you get too close to me. Yet, somehow, you did.”

Cecilia instantly rose to her feet, as though her body needed to move before her mind could catch up. Her heart thundered beneath her ribs, far too loud, far too wild, and the sound of his confession echoed inside her with such force it left her breathless.

“What are you saying, Valentine?” she whispered.

Valentine rose to his feet too, crossing the room to stand in front of her. “I’m saying,” His voice was quiet. “You live in the chaotic corners of my heart where my deepest, darkest thoughts collide, and you bring silence to them.”

Cecilia’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Her knees threatened to give, but she clung to the wall, needing its strength because she suddenly had none of her own.

Valentine took a step forward, slow and careful.

“I used to hate the chirping of birds at dawn,” he said, a faint breath of a laugh in his voice.

“But now they sound like music to my ears. Because they signal a new day, and another chance to see you, speak to you, watch you roll your eyes at me when you cannot think of a retort.”

Cecilia swallowed, unable to look away from him.

“I love you, Cecilia Price,” he said silently, taking another step forward. “I know how to love you, and I would like to spend the rest of my days mastering that skill. This is me saying that I am rising above my fears and giving you my everything. Bare. If you will have me.”

Cecilia broke.

The first tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. Then another. Until she was weeping openly, the sobs quiet but wracking, her body trembling with the force of all she had held in for too long.

Valentine’s face drained of color. “No, no, don’t cry,” he said, stricken. “Please, Cecilia, what did I say? Did I say it wrong? Was it too much?” He reached for her, then hesitated, his hands frozen mid-air like he didn’t trust himself to touch her.

She shook her head, covering her mouth, still crying. “Why didn’t you just say this?” she choked out. “Why did you let me suffer, Valentine? Why did you punish me like that?”

“I didn’t know how,” he said quickly, helplessly, moving closer now, his voice catching. “I didn’t know what to do with what I felt. I was terrified, and I’m so sorry. I am, Cecilia, I am so sorry for all of it.”

She sobbed harder, and he finally closed the space between them, wrapping his arms around her without hesitation, holding her like something precious. Like something breakable and already half-broken.

“I will spend the rest of my life making up for it,” he whispered against her temple. “Every day. I swear it.”

She sniffled, clutching the front of his shirt, burying her face in his chest. Then, through the tremble of her breath, she whispered. “I love you, too.”

He froze for a single beat and then exhaled. Then, gently, he drew back from the embrace, just enough to see her face. His hands came up to cradle her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the remnants of her tears.

“Say it again,” he breathed.

“I love you,” she whispered, steadier this time, as though the words had finally found a home. “I have loved you for a long time now.”

He stilled after her confession, as if the world had fallen silent just to hear it again.

Then slowly, he stepped back from their embrace.

His eyes searched hers with the reverence of a man witnessing a miracle.

One hand cupped her cheek, the other slid to her jaw, his touch so gentle it made her breath catch.

He looked down at her lips, and then he kissed her. Not softly. Not cautiously. But wholly. As if he had no more words, no more time, and no more breath to waste on anything else but her.

Cecilia gasped into him, but her body already knew the rhythm.

Her hands gripped his shirt as though anchoring herself to the only real thing in the world.

His arm circled her waist, drawing her flush against him, and without breaking the kiss, he guided her away from the corner.

The back of her knees met the edge of the bed, and she sank into it, taking him with her.

He settled on top of her, and she hugged him, fully clothed and yet utterly undone.

His mouth explored hers like he had the map to every sigh she’d never known she was holding, and when his hand slipped behind her neck to pull her closer, her whole body arched in answer. She could taste everything, feel the ache in his chest as though it belonged to her now.

Her skin sang. Her mind spun. She saw stars behind her closed lids and felt every tether of fear or doubt snap like a worn thread.

For the first time, she felt whole. Not for who she had been, not for what she had endured, but for who she was in that moment, with him.

“I love you,” she whispered again between kisses.

“I don’t think I will ever get tired of hearing you say that.” He smiled against her mouth, before locking her lips with his again.

A week had passed since the night Cecilia had finally let herself fall, completely and joyfully, into the arms of the man she had once sworn never to trust. The days that followed were soft and sweet, a quiet unraveling of everything they had once feared and everything they now hoped for.

But not all knots had been undone. Not yet.

When Lucy was announced that morning, Cecilia felt the familiar twinge of tension stir low in her stomach. But she rose to meet her anyway. She had come alone to visit, and even though Cecilia knew that it was for them to talk, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

They sat in the drawing room, a tea tray untouched between them. Lucy’s eyes were red-rimmed, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The silence stretched long before she spoke.

“I came to apologize. To you both,” she said, glancing at Valentine, who stood behind Cecilia. “I am so sorry for everything. If I could go back in time and just redo everything, I would come clean to you, Your Grace, and I would have told you I wasn’t ready to get married.”

Cecilia’s eyes softened. She said nothing yet, letting Lucy unravel whatever she had come here to shed.

“I kept thinking that if I waited, time would make it easier to come to you and tell the truth, but my mama was making it incredibly difficult to do so. I had come clean to her shortly after the entire ordeal. I had told her that it was my fault, but she told me not to do anything. That she would take care of it, but she did not. She just kept spreading gossip.”

“Lucy,” she said softly. “I know you very well. So, I believe you when you say you did not plan for it to go this way. But it doesn’t change the fact that what you did was a bad thing.”

“I know, and I am so sorry,” Lucy sobbed.

“I should not have done that to you, of all people. I truly did not think you would be asked to marry His Grace. I thought they would call off the wedding and we’d be done with it.

Please don’t hate me, Cecilia. I really cannot live with that.

You are probably my favorite person in the world. ”

Cecilia giggled. “You have always been my favorite person in this world. You always defended me. You were there for my family when we had no one to turn to. You’re a good person, Lucy. You just made a mistake.”

“My mother,” Lucy pressed her lips together.

“She thought she could salvage my prospects. She told anyone who would listen that I was the one who rejected Valentine. That I cast him off. But no one believed it. It only made things worse. Now they whisper behind fans and look through me like I’m a cautionary tale. ”

“I’m so sorry,” Cecilia murmured.

Lucy shook her head, eyes bright. “No. I earned it. I didn’t stop her when I should have. I let my selfish needs blind me.”

“I never blamed you,” Cecilia said. “Not for a moment.”

“Lucy, if you hadn’t done what you did,” Valentine chimed in, “If you hadn’t taken that risk, even if it was reckless, I never would have met Cecilia. I never would have fallen in love. So whatever the world thinks, I will always be grateful to you for that.”

Lucy stared at him, her eyes round and glistening. Then, with a shaky laugh, she said, “That is remarkably unfair but yet terribly beautiful, Your Grace.”

Cecilia smiled softly. “He’s terribly good at those.” She rose to her feet and went over to Lucy’s side to sit. “Would you like to stay for dinner? We have a lot to talk about, Lucy. A lot.”

Lucy looked at her, eyes brimming once more, but this time with the softness of relief. She gave a small, trembling nod, and a smile tugged at her lips. “I’d like that,” she said quietly.

“Wonderful.” Cecilia slipped her arm around her cousin’s and leaned in with a warm laugh.

A week ago, she thought she was complete.

She had Valentine’s love, and she was finally going to have a big family like she had come to want.

But now…now that her relationship with Lucy was mended, she felt something deeper settle into her soul.

A wholeness, as though a once-missing piece had been gently returned.

Love had found her in many forms. Romantic, familial, and now, redemptive.

There was nothing more she could ask for.