Page 17 of A Midwinter Wager

Chapter 10

Cesca had decidedto spend the rest of the summer with a cousin up in Yorkshire. Having given Fitz her direction before fleeing Fernley Place, she was surprised when she received no word from him, especially as she hadn’t given up hope he might change his mind and elope with her. Once she was away from home, it couldn’t be easier for them to run off together.

But as the days passed without a letter, puzzlement gave way to numb disbelief, which was, in turn, replaced by misery.

Perhaps he'd been too busy with military matters to correspond. Worse still, he might have been injured or even killed. How appalled she'd been, when the news of Waterloo had reached her in June—there'd been significant loss of life, despite the battle ending in victory over Napoleon. When the casualty lists were published, she'd hardly dared look. She couldn't bear to think of Fitz dead—for how could she contemplate continuing to exist without him?

In August, Papa had written to say Fitz had been promoted to major after his bravery at Waterloo. The news made her heart swell with pride. But her father had then ruined the excellent news by repeating his insistence that Fitz be engaged to Alicia. Now he was a war hero it was even more critical that the masquerade be continued, for he was very much in the public eye. The earl would be appalled if Fitz were to break off the engagement now.

Was this why Fitz hadn’t written? Was he ashamed at being brow-beaten into doing what both their fathers wanted? Dare she risk writing to him? But she didn’t know where he was living since his return home, and she couldn’t rely on the earl forwarding any letter she sent to Beaulieu Manor.

Realizing how agonizing it would be to return to Fernley and watch Fitz forced to court Alicia, Cesca exchanged the cousin in Yorkshire for an old family friend in Oxford, where she stayed for much of the autumn. There was no pleasure to be had in going home if her father was still in stubborn mood, and all Alicia wanted to do was crow over her.

The more she thought about it, the more Cesca knew that she never wanted to see Alicia again. She stayed in Oxford as long as she could but realized she’d have to move on before bad weather made travel treacherous; otherwise, her friend might be forced to put up with her for a few more months. There wasn’t anywhere to go now, except home.

She’d just about steeled herself to do this when Fate gave her a stay of execution, in the shape of an invitation to visit Lady Widbrook. She puzzled over this for a long time, all kinds of imaginings fluttering through her mind, tempting her leaden heart to spring to life again. Lady Widbrook was Fitz’s great aunt. Surely, she’d only extend an invitation to Cesca if Fitz had asked her to? And if this were the case, it might—just might—mean that he wanted Cesca close to him, for Mountney Hall, Lady Widbrook’s home, was a mere fifteen miles north of Beaulieu Manor.

She thought long and hard about whether or not she should accept. Could she cope with seeing Fitz again? For he was sure to be home on leave for Christmas. He might not even be with the army now—she’d no idea, for Papa wrote rarely mentioned him in his letters.

Deep in her soul, she knew it was high time she faced her father and stepsister—only then would she be able to value herself. But it would be prudent to see Fitz first—hopefully at his great aunt’s house—to ascertain the lie of the land. So, she wrote and accepted Lady Widbrook’s invitation, making it clear she could only stay a few days, after which she’d return to Fernley Place in time for Christmas Eve.

Lady Widbrook wrote back, expressed her delight, and invited Cesca to accompany her to a regimental ball on the second day of the proposed visit. It was a soldiers’ reunion, a local celebration held in honor of the fortunate survivors of the battle of Waterloo. It was also an opportunity to raise a glass to the dead of that desperate conflict.

Unfortunately, those survivors numbered men from Fitz’s regiment. He would be there, making her first meeting with him in six months a very public affair. It was not what she would have wanted at all. Particularly when on arriving at Mountney Hall, she learned that he was escorting Alicia to the event.

Which meant she was right. He’d capitulated. That was why he’d never written. Concealing her feelings from Lady Widbrook when making that discovery was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

Midwinter’s Eve, the night of the ball, came far too quickly. Lurking upstairs in her spacious chamber, Cesca stared at her reflection, sighed, then pinched her cheeks to get a bit of color into them.

Stepping away, she turned around in front of the mirror. She looked resplendent in her gown; her hair was beautifully styled, her face pretty but very pale, and her expression looked haunted. She didn’t want Fitz to see her like this. He’d know the minute his eyes met hers how much she still suffered his loss. Steeling her courage, she headed downstairs in search of her warmest cloak and wondered if she ought to take a fortifying drink to soften the blow of seeing Fitz and Alicia together.

It was about half an hour's carriage ride to the Assembly Rooms where the ball was to be held, and would doubtless be an uncomfortable journey, with nothing but darkness beyond the windows. The elderly Lady Widbrook was a problematic conversationalist, being somewhat deaf, so Cesca decided not only to have a snifter of brandy before leaving—though she knew it was frightfully unladylike—but she also decided to take a book.

A few flakes of snow were drifting on the air as they climbed into the carriage, and by the time they reached their destination, she felt frozen to death. As soon as she got the chance, she hunted down a bowl of lamb’s wool and enjoyed its hot, tingling descent down her throat. A glass of wine mulled with cinnamon, nutmeg and honey followed, and the warmth finally stole back into her limbs.

What she needed to retain that warmth was a good, lively dance, so she took her place next to Lady Widbrook, and gazed at the dancers with a hopeful smile, waiting for the gentlemen to notice her and fill her dance card.

Before long, she was noticed, and some old friends invited her to join their party, which, with her chaperone’s permission, she did.

This was a much livelier prospect. The young gentlemen in the group made sure no lady was left out, and Cesca was soon dancing, smiling, and joking with them all.

Until Alicia entered the room with the Blakeleys, near neighbors of the Heathcotes.

Accompanied by Fitz.