Page 114 of The Dueling Duchess

“Can we wait a few days, at least?” she asked.

Guy almost gave in to her request. But the strident critic in his head screamed so loudly, he thought it might be in the room with them.

“No. We tell her first thing tomorrow.”

Have you no bloody sense, Guy? You should march down the hallway, wake up Cecile, and tell her right now!

It was late and he honestly could not bear to face this new problem without at least four or five hours’ sleep.

“Will you be with me when I tell her?” Helena asked.

“I don’t know what good you think that will do.” Afford Cecile a larger target, for certain. “But I’ll be with you.”

“Do you think she will make me leave?” Helena asked, her brow furrowed with worry.

“If there’s one thing I can honestly say about Cecile, it’s that I never know what she’ll do next.”

* * *

Cecile was coming back from the kitchen with a glass of warm milk when she saw her new assistant/governess slipping from Guy’s room.

She froze at the top of the stairs, openmouthed as Miss Helen Keeble tiptoed back to her room.

Once her door had closed, Cecile marched directly to Guy’s room, raised her fist to pound on the door, but then hesitated.

What could she say to him? That he wasn’t allowed to have a lover in the house? She’d never said anything of the kind to any of the other employees who lived in the building.

Cecile chewed her lip furiously, her hand tightening on the heavy glass tumbler until her fingers ached. Her head spun and pulsed, and her eyes were hot: what a dog the man was!

Why was she even surprised? Miss Keeble was young—far younger than Cecile—and if she was not exactly beautiful, she was attractive. And of course, nubile.

She ground her teeth.

Why was she such a fool? She’d almost begun to believe he really might care for her and regret how he’d treated her.

He wasn’t coming out of her room; she was coming out of his.

The thought gave Cecile pause. That was odd.

Something else teased at her brain; Miss Keeble had been fully dressed.

Perhaps there is something more here? she thought.

Besides, what can you do to him? Throw him out for taking a lover?

That was true. What hold did she have over him? Nothing except a stupid, blind hope. A girl’s dream of a knight who would come along and be true.

She was such an idiot it was physically painful.

Cecile dropped her hand to her side and turned toward her room. Thankfully she’d not done anything she regretted—like take him into her bed.

When she reached her room, she set the glass of milk on her dressing table; she’d lost her appetite.

Cecile climbed into bed and blew out the candle and then stared into the dark, her mind racing. She liked Helen Keeble and had been optimistic for the first time that she’d be able to find not only an able assistant, but somebody she’d instantly been drawn to.

Of course, that wasn’t over, just . . . muddled. She could only hope that if Guy was dallying with the young woman, he would move on quickly.

She could hardly dislike Miss Keeble for falling for a man she’d fallen for herself, could she? But that didn’t mean she wanted to watch the progression of their affair. She recalled her own time with Guy far too clearly.