Page 50 of His Scandalous Duchess (Icy Dukes #4)

CHAPTER TWO

" Y ou were raised better than this, Cecilia Lockhart. What were you thinking?"

Emma had not waited a second more after the ball ended to go home.

The carriage ride was thick with tension.

Emma sat across from Cecilia, her arms crossed and her expression stern.

The carriage fell silent, the only sound the rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the cobblestones.

Emma waited for Cecilia to respond, but she didn't. Instead, she sat with her hands between her legs, staring down at them.

"I need to understand why you did what you did and what you thought would happen," Emma questioned. "Did you think that the duke would be forced to marry you if you were caught in that garden by other people? Is that what you thought would happen?"

Cecilia sighed and turned to stare out the window, actively ignoring Emma's words.

"If that's what you thought would happen then you are very na?ve, Cecilia," Emma continued. "It would have ruined your reputation and left the duke unscathed. You could have destroyed your future."

"I know," Cecilia finally spoke. "I know, and I am sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to do something. Anything. I am a member of this family, I should be helping too."

Emma blinked, taken aback by the fragileness in her sister's voice. "Cecilia, you have no responsibility that–"

"Yes, I do," she answered, her hands clenched into fists in her lap.

"You always acted strong, and capable. You say that you are over the idea of marriage or love but I know that is a lie.

You do your best to keep the peace in the house even though everything has been thrown into chaos because of Papa.

You never let anyone see how much you're struggling.

But I see it, Emma. I see the way you stay up late, poring over ledgers.

I see the way you smile through every ball, every dinner, even though you hate every second of it.

I cannot just sit and do nothing while you sacrifice everything for the family.

You are my sister, we are supposed to help each other. "

Emma's heart ached as she listened to Cecilia's words. The anger in her chest began to give way to a deep, aching sadness and she turned away, blinking back the tears that were stinging her eyes.

"Cecilia, you are eighteen years old," Emma said to her. "You are a debutante, and you have a responsibility to make sure that you find a good match and get married into a good family. You are not responsible for the operations of the home, or for Papa."

"The reason you stay up every night is because you are thinking of ways to pay off my dowry when I eventually find a match, is it not?"

Emma wanted to respond but she paused, unable to neither tell the truth nor lie.

But the longer she waited, the easier it was for the lump in her throat to slide down, giving small room for her to speak freely.

"I don't stay up every night," she said defensively. "Where did you get such an idea from?"

"Don't lie to me, Emma," Cecilia said to her. "We are barely getting by."

"Do not say that," Emma said to her. " I might do things that make you uncomfortable, but I do what I do because I love you, Cecilia. Because I want you to have the life you deserve. But trapping a man into marriage is not the answer. It's reckless, and it could have ruined us all."

Cecilia's shoulders slumped, and she looked down at her hands, her tears almost spilling over.

"I just... I wanted to help," she whispered.

"I know it was foolish, Emma. But what else was I supposed to do?

" she continued. "Sit back and watch as our family falls apart?

Watch as you work yourself to the bone trying to keep us afloat while I do nothing?

Father allowed me to buy a new dress for the Season, but you, you had to suffer once more, wearing the same gowns from last year.

I just wanted to solve our problems in one swift go. "

Emma's heart ached as she stood up and sat by Cecilia's side, pulling her sister into a tight embrace.

"Oh, Cecilia," she murmured, her voice gentle now.

"You don't have to fix everything. Especially when there is nothing to fix.

That's not your responsibility. We are fine. You have nothing to worry about."

Cecilia clung to her, her tears dampening Emma's shoulder. "Emma?"

"Yes?" she answered as she continued to stroke her sister's hair.

"Are we poor?"

For a moment, Emma was too stunned to respond.

Then, to her own surprise, a soft laugh escaped her lips.

"No," she said, knowing deep down, that it was a lie.

"We are fine. I have everything under control.

We may not have the same luxuries as before, but we have each other.

And that's worth more than all the gowns and carriages in the world. "

Emma sighed, her hand continuing to stroke Cecilia's hair as her sister's breathing steadied into a slow rhythm.

In the quiet of the carriage, Emma allowed herself a moment of vulnerability.

She was scared too, terrified, in fact. The weight of their family's future pressed heavily on her shoulders, and the thought of failing Cecilia.

.. of failing all of them, was a constant shadow in her mind.

But she couldn't show it. Not now. Not ever.

She needed to find a way to secure their finances.

Whatever it took, she had to do something. For Cecilia, and for her family.

"Dorothy, give it back!" Phillip demanded. "That's mine!"

"Not if I eat it first!" Dorothy shot back, her grin widening as she pretended to take a bite from Phillip's muffin. She held it just out of his reach, her small fingers clutching the pastry like a trophy.

Emma watched them argue from her seat in the drawing room, feeling the beginnings of a headache press against her temple.

The morning sunlight streaming through the windows did little to soften the chaos that was typical of their mornings.

Phillip was half-standing now, his chair teetering precariously as he stretched toward Dorothy, while their father sat by the window, buried behind his newspaper as though the commotion were nothing more than background noise.

"Dorothy, stop tormenting your brother..." Emma said pinching the bridge of her nose, willing the throbbing in her head to subside even if temporarily. "... And Phillip, you should have finished your muffin at the table, during breakfast."

Cecilia, however, was uncharacteristically quiet.

She sat on the settee, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her gaze fixed on the fireplace as though the flickering flames held the answers to her troubles.

Her silence was so unlike her usual lively self that Emma couldn't help but glance at her every so often, her concern growing with each passing minute.

She knew that Cecilia was still troubled following the event of last night, and Emma had no idea what else to do to put her mind at ease.

"I'll be heading to White's after this," Howard announced in a casual tone. "I have arranged to meet some friends to discuss a few business ventures."

Cecilia's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "White's?" she repeated, her voice sharp.

"Yes," he said. "In the meantime, be sure to visit the modiste and get your fitting done for the new dresses. Keeping up appearances is a must."

"Papa, the last time you went to White's, we had to sell all that remained of Mama's jewels." Emma added with a sigh. "What are we selling this time?"

Howard placed the paper in his hand down. "What are you insinuating, Emma?"

Emma massaged her forehead. "I am saying that we can barely afford tea, and you are off to gamble away what little we have left."

"Emma!" Emma cautioned her, giving her a look that hinted she mellowed down.

The room fell silent and even Dorothy and Phillip paused their game, their eyes darting between Emma and their father. Emma set her mending aside, her heart sinking as she recognized the storm brewing.

Their father's face reddened, and he straightened in his chair. "I am not going to gamble, if you must know," he said in a defensive tone. "I told you, I'm meeting friends to discuss business opportunities. Opportunities that could very well help this family."

"Business opportunities?" Cecilia chimed in, her voice rising. "Or excuses to sit in a gentlemen's club and pretend everything is fine while Emma scrapes together pennies to keep this household running?"

"That's enough," Howard said in a sharp tone. "I will not be spoken to in this manner. I am doing what I can to provide for this family, and I don't need your accusations."

"Doing what you can?" Cecilia stood, her hands clenched at her sides. "What youcan dois stay here and figure out how to pay the bills instead of wasting time and money at White's! Do you even know how much Emma has been sacrificing? How much she's been doing to keep us afloat while you–"

"Cecilia!" Emma interjected, her voice sharp as she rose from her seat. She sighed, running a hand over her face. The headache she'd been fighting all morning was now a full-blown storm in her skull.

She stepped between her sister and their father, her hands raised as though she could physically hold back the storm."I am not trying to argue with you, Papa. If these meetings are truly about business, perhaps you could share more details with us about who you're meeting."

Their father hesitated, his jaw tightening as he looked at Emma.

For a moment, it seemed as though he might argue, but then he sighed and nodded.

"Very well," he said, his tone resigned.

"I'm meeting with Lord Harrington and a few others to discuss potential investments.

It's nothing certain, but it's worth exploring. "