He looked deeply at her, searching. “Are you… happy?”
She hesitated—only because the happiness was so new it felt fragile.
Then she nodded. “Yes.”
A slow breath left him, heavy with relief. “Then thank goodness. Thank goodness your marriage has turned into a blessing rather than a sentence.”
She smiled faintly. “It has not been dull.”
He laughed then, soft and shaking. “You deserve joy, my girl. You always have. And I will try. I will try to be better.”
***
Luncheon was taken after the tour in the sunlit breakfast room, where Anne tried every dish with enthusiasm bordering on dangerous, Lucy regaled the household with a story involving a broken parasol and three offended vicars, and Lady Broker debated window treatments with Morrison as though she owned the house.
The Duke, Celine noticed, watched her more than he watched his plate.
Not possessively.
Not in hunger.
But with the quiet, steady awareness of a man counting the hours until a vow might be kept.
Celine felt the answering hum low in her chest.
Tonight.
Her pulse fluttered.
Soon.
But for now, she smiled at Anne’s commentary on the syllabub, listened to her father’s relieved laughter, and let herself feel—perhaps for the first time—that her two worlds might finally fit together.
The Becketts departed precisely as punctually as they had arrived.
Lady Broker insisted on leaving “before the lamps are lit—it is unbecoming to linger,” while Lucy declared she would write Celineimmediatelywith her impressions of their visit.
Her father was the last to step into the carriage. He took Celine’s hands quietly.
“You are stronger than I ever deserved,” he murmured. “Thank you… for being happy.”
Then he climbed in, the footman shut the door, and the carriage rolled out into the bright winter street.
Silence settled over the entrance hall—soft, warm, unexpectedly intimate after the bustle.
Celine exhaled.
“Your family,” the Duke said at last, stepping to her side. “They are… spirited.”
“That is the gentlest term anyone has ever used.”
Lucy’s laughter echoed faintly from down the street.
He gave her a sidelong look. “Your mother is formidable.”
“She interrogated Morrison on his polishing schedule.”
“I am aware.” Elias paused. “He may never recover.”
