Page 88 of Love Wasn’t Built in a Day

“You were right, of course. I ought to have burned it,” she said, giving a rueful sniff.

Cilly put her arm about her shoulders and hugged her. “What do you care, love? You have a wonderful husband who looks at you as though you are a star fallen to earth just for him, your future is bright, the ballroom will be finished on schedule, and everyone will see how fabulously talented he is. You have everything before you that you ever wanted, and all our father has is his wretched title and that great empty palace.”

Hetty gave a choked laugh and leaned into Cilly. “You always know the exact right thing to say.”

“Well, that’s because I am perfectly perfect,” Cilly replied with a little sniff.

“Yes, I do believe you are,” Hetty said, gazing at Cilly with admiration. The realisation that Cilly’s time was running out made it impossible to smile for long, though. “Cilly—”

Cilly held up a hand. “No. Don’t. I don’t wish to speak of it.

Getting to her feet, Cilly brushed the sand from her skirts and began walking back up the beach towards the little dog cart.

Hetty hurried after her. Gideon was hard at work getting everything ready so that the ballroom and foyer were ready in time for Mrs King and Hetty and the army of staff they had hired to set up for the grand opening. Between the joy of married life with Gideon and the rush to help however she could to ready everything for the grand ball, Hetty had seen little of her sister, but she realised now that Cilly would be gone from her life soon. Not dead, not overseas, but snatched away all the same, to live what was likely to be a wretched existence somewhere in the wilds of Cumbria.

“Cilly! I can’t let you marry that horrid old man,” she called after her sister. “Gideon and I have discussed it, love, and once we are settled, you can come and live with us. You have mama’s money, and I’m sure—”

“Hetty!” Cilly turned on her, hands on hips, irritation and exasperation glinting in her eyes.

Hetty stopped in her tracks. Cilly rarely lost her temper and was always such a peaceful presence in Hetty’s life that when she did, Hetty found it rather daunting.

Cilly let out a breath and looked up at the sky for a moment, either praying for deliverance or trying to decide what to say. Hetty suspected the first option until Cilly turned to her with a smile. She walked closer and settled her hands lightly on Hetty’s shoulders.

“Do you trust me, love?”

“Of course!” Hetty exclaimed, wondering how she could think otherwise.

“And do you think me witless, or weak?”

“No! Cilly, how can you—”

Cilly pressed a finger to her lips. “Then do me the courtesy of leaving me to arrange my fate as I see fit. I am not helpless, I promise you. You and Gideon are so very kind, but you do not want to begin your lives together with your spinster sister underfoot and I do not wish to be there.”

Hetty gazed at her. There was that steely glint in her sister’s eye again, the one that made Hetty’s heart skip with anxiety. Yet she was a woman grown, she knew her own mind, and was neither witless nor weak. All the same, it was hard to leave her gentle sister to her fate and do nothing to help her.

“If you need me,” she blurted.

“Oh, Hetty.” Cilly pulled her into a hug. “If I need you, I know you will drop everything and come running, and that is the greatest blessing. But you have a husband now, a life of your own, and I… well, I might just surprise you one of these days.”

Hetty pulled back, looking into Cilly’s unusual golden eyes. “Oh?”

Cilly let her go with a secretive smile. “Come along, Hetty. We’ve things to do.” With that, she left Hetty standing with an ominous sensation of impending trouble building in her chest.

“What does that mean?” Hetty demanded, hurrying after her. “Cilly! What does that mean?”

But Cilly would not speak another word about it.

The Grand Hotel Ballroom, Little Valentine, East Sussex, 3rd September 1816

Gideon looked around the elegant ballroom, pride swelling in his chest.

“That’s it, Sir, we’re all done,” Mr Ludlow called across the enormous space, his voice echoing.

Gideon turned and strode to meet him.

Ludlow swiped off his hat, beaming at him. “All clean and shipshape it is. We’ve screened off the areas still under construction and boarded off the top of the stairs like you said, so no drunken lords can go exploring and break their necks on the unfinished floors.”

“Good man, Ludlow. You’ve done me proud, you and all the men. I’ve spoken to Mr King, and he’s agreed everyone will get a bonus for the fine work you’ve done, especially in these last weeks. Do you know how rare it is for any building job to come in on time and on budget, let alone one of this size and complexity?”