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Lady Ramsdale wrung her hands.
“And if you’ll point me toward my chambers, I’ll go and have a good cry, and then I’ll be ready to go for a ride in the park with your other son.” She turned toward the door and waited, blinking back tears. She refused to look at Lady Ramsdale. If she did, she might break. And she just didn’t want to do that. Not now.
“To the right, up the stairs, and then take a left,” Lady Ramsdale said quietly.
“Thank you,” Cecelia said.
***
Cecelia rushed past Marcus in the corridor. He reached out a hand to stop her, but she pushed her shoulder closer to the wall and stepped around him. “Not now, Marcus,” she spat at him. “Mind your own matters,” she snapped, and she continued on past him. Marcus stood in the corridor and watched the sway of her hips as she stormed away from him.
He was minding his own matters. She was his matter, for God’s sake.
“Marcus,” a voice called from the morning room. His mother stuck her auburn head out the doorway and pointed a finger at him. “I’ll see you for a moment.”
He didn’t really have a moment. He had to see why Cecelia was in such a temper. Usually when they fought, she would throw things at him and then she would get over it. Since she’d thrown food, they should have been over it. But she obviously wasn’t.
“She’s still angry at me,” he said as he sat down across from his mother.
“And she has every right to be.”
He heaved a sigh. “I know.”
“What are your intentions toward her, Marcus?” she asked.
“I don’t have any intentions toward her. Aside from keeping her from falling in love with Allen.” He murmured the last, and his mother’s brow shot northward.
“And what if she did fall in love with Allen?”
“I would be crushed. Absolutely crushed.” He couldn’t think of a better way to describe it. “I made a mistake when I left her. It was a quick decision, and I was blinded by the warmth of my family.” He sat up straighter and picked at an errant string on his trousers.
“Your family will still be here,” she said, laying her fingertips upon his knee.
“I know that now. But I didn’t know it then.” He got to his feet and began to pace. He stopped to look at his mother. “My task now is to undo all the harm that I caused before some other man realizes how amazing she is and snatches her away from me.” He pointed a finger at his mother. “And if Allen lays a hand on her one more time, I’m going to chop it off with a dull pair of scissors.”
“Allen laid a hand upon Cecelia?” His mother looked briefly worried. But it passed.
“They were holding hands when I walked into the breakfast room.”
Recognition dawned in her eyes. “And that’s why she was throwing food at you this morning. Because you made an arse of yourself when you thought they were holding hands.” A grin tugged at the corners of her lips. This wasn’t funny.
“I don’t know what you think is so amusing.”
“Made you see red, did it?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
“Red, yes. And I was about to see purple and black, because I was this close,” he held his thumb and forefinger a small space apart, “to knocking the grin right off his face.”
“Your brother means you no harm,” she chided. “If anything, he’s simply trying to help you realize what you’re missing.”
“He means me no harm?” Marcus pressed a hand to his chest. “I stole his title and his birthright. And I do not deserve it. I didn’t sit at father’s knee for twenty-odd years and learn everything that Allen did. Yet I’m the oldest, so I have to step into his future.”
“And give up your own,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry this has been so difficult for you.”
“Difficult doesn’t begin to describe it,” he growled.
“It’s our fault. We put you in this predicament.” Her shoulders slumped. He didn’t want to console her right now.
“Do you want to help me?”
