Page 59 of The Duchess’ Little Miracle

Seraphina did not buy the deflection for a single second. She turned her head slightly to exchange a quick, knowing look with Euphemia across the table. Euphemia met her gaze, a worried, anxious expression crossing her face, confirming Seraphina’s suspicions.

Leonora caught the unspoken communication between them instantly.

“Oh, stop it!” Leonora snapped softly, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Stop looking at each other like that. I see precisely what you are doing, and I am telling you both to leave it alone.”

“Leonora, we only care about your safety,” Seraphina insisted gently, leaning across the table toward her. “You know how dangerous this path is. How many times must Euphemia and I remind you of the risks? We do not want to see you get hurt if you keep relentlessly chasing this.”

“I said, no, Seraphina, please,” Leonora said, defensively. She paused, taking a quick, shuddering breath. “Please... can we please not discuss me today? I am not feeling particularly cheerful at the moment, and dwelling on it will only make my mood far worse. I beg of you... leave it be.”

Seraphina and Euphemia exchanged another glance. Recognizing the pain in Leonora’s voice, Seraphina yielded, letting out a soft sigh.

“Very well,” Seraphina murmured gently. “We will leave it be for today.”

Euphemia, seeking to banish the clouds hanging over the room, clapped her hands together with a sudden enthusiasm. “Right then!” she declared, forcing a brilliant, cheerful smile onto her face as she stood up from her chair. “This room has become entirely too serious. We have debated biology, we have argued over husbands, and we have brooded over secrets. I propose an immediate change of scenery!”

Leonora looked up, a skeptical smile touching her lips. “What do you have in mind, Effie?”

“Ices!” Euphemia announced. “We are going to Gunter’s in Berkeley Square. We shall sit under the trees, order an absurd amount of raspberry ice, and pretend for one glorious hour that none of us have a single care in the world.”

Seraphina couldn’t help but laugh, the lingering weight in her chest lifting slightly. “Ice in the middle of the afternoon? Lady Byron would thoroughly disapprove.”

“Which makes it an absolute imperative,” Euphemia laughed, grabbing Seraphina’s hands and pulling her up from the chair. “Come along, both of you. I will not accept a refusal.”

Leonora let out a small laugh, rising to her feet and smoothing her skirts. “Very well. Ices it is.”

As the three sisters gathered their bonnets, pelisses, and parasols, laughing and chatting as they made their way down the staircase of the Mayfair house, Seraphina walked a few steps behind them, her mind drifting backward once more.

She pulled her bonnet ribbons tight, tying a neat bow beneath her chin, but her thoughts were miles away, anchored securely back at Norwyn Manor.

Perhaps Euphemia was right about one thing.

She had spent weeks analyzing William as a Duke, as a business partner, and as an overwhelming presence that threw her bodily functions into chaos. But she had never truly paused to evaluate the fundamental transformation that had occurred beneath the surface of their verbal sparring.

‘Has it really come to this?’ she asked herself silently, watching her sisters laugh as they boarded the carriage. ‘Have I reached a point where I view William Carlton not as a threat to my independence, but as my closest friend and confidant?’

If he was merely her friend... why did his week-long absence leave a cold, hollow ache in the center of her chest, as though a vital piece of her soul was missing?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“The stars do not actually flicker, you know,” Seraphina murmured, her voice barely louder than the soft tapping of rain against the windowpane.

“Yes, they do,” Alice answered, leaning into Seraphina on the bed.

“They don’t.”

“I’ve seen them. They do,” she countered quietly.

The trip to Mayfair had done nothing to calm the storm in her thoughts. If anything, her sisters’ observations had only made the silence of Norwyn Manor more overwhelming. Her eyes kept wandering toward the window, as if she could pierce the dark and see into the west wing where William’s study sat empty and silent.

She took a breath, seeking refuge in the tranquility of the moment.

“It is merely an illusion caused by the earth’s atmosphere,” she continued softly. “The light travels through layers of air of varying temperatures and densities, bending the rays before they reach our eyes. The star itself remains perfectly steady. Completely undisturbed by the turbulence through which its light must pass.”

“So... the star is not afraid of the dark?”

“It is not. It holds steady.”

Seraphina paused and looked down to find Alice’s eyes open, watching her attentively. The child had not been asleep at all, or perhaps the sound of Seraphina’s voice had gently pulled her back to consciousness.