4
CECILY
Waiting was a luxury she no longer had.
Cecily washed and dressed with a grim purpose, ignoring the ordinary morning sounds of the hall. Before her resolve could waver, she walked straight to her parents’ chamber and entered without knocking.
Her father was already up, fastening his belt. Her mother sat near the window, hands folded tightly in her lap.
They both looked up as Cecily entered.
“We need to speak,” Cecily said.
Thomas studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. We do.”
She closed the door behind her.
Cecily drew a breath. “I will not marry Lord Alard.”
Rosamund’s face tightened, but Thomas did not look surprised.
“We have decided nothing,” he said evenly.
“That is not an answer,” Cecily said. “It is merely a postponement.”
Thomas held her gaze. “You must trust us, Cecily.”
Her breath caught. “I overheard you last night,” she said. “Talking about delaying. About being cautious. But not about refusing him.”
Rosamund spoke then, her voice low. “Because caution matters when a man like Alard de Veyron is involved.”
Cecily turned to her. “Then you are afraid of him.”
Thomas answered immediately. “No,” he said. “We are not afraid. But we are not foolish either.”
Cecily’s hands clenched at her sides. “Lord Alard told me it was not my decision to make.”
Thomas’s jaw tightened. “He overstepped.”
“And yet you are still deciding for me,” Cecily said.
Rosamund rose from her chair in an abrupt motion. “Grow up, Cecily. He holds influence far beyond his lands. Far beyond ours. If we move carelessly, we invite him to strike where he can.”
Thomas did not contradict her. He simply nodded once.
“That is precisely why we must be deliberate,” he said. “We need time to form a response. A plan. If he threatens our land, I can replace land. I cannot replace you. But I won’t make a reckless move that hands you to him faster.”
A plan.
“And what if I do not want to be part of that plan?” Cecily asked. “He is… he is an old man! He repels me!” Her throat tightened, and she pressed her lips together hard.
Thomas crossed the room and put an arm around her shoulders. She stiffened at the touch, the gesture feeling more like a restraint than a comfort.
“You are the reason we are taking such care,” he said quietly. “You are the reason we will not be rushed.”
“Then let me be part of the choosing,” Cecily pressed, her throat tight. “There must be someone else. Someone closer to my age. Someone I might come to like, even love. I am not refusing marriage. I am refusing him.”
Thomas was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, his tone was careful and measured.
“You are but sixteen, Cecily. You must allow us to manage this. Your marriage is not a matter of preference alone,” he said. “All matches carry weight, especially among the nobility.”
“But not all leave me with no hope of happiness,” Cecily said. “Or love. The kind of love that you and Mother have.”
Thomas did not flinch. “I promise you, we will not rush our response to Lord Alard.”
Cecily’s heart hammered.
“You are still asking me to wait,” Cecily said.
“We are asking you to trust us,” Rosamund replied, her voice strained with the effort of holding herself together.
“How can I trust you,” Cecily said, “when you won’t promise to refuse him?”
Thomas took a step toward her. “Cecily—”
“No.” Cecily slipped free of his arm and backed away, her voice rising. “You think you can manage him with careful words, that you can shape this with a plan.”
Thomas’s gaze sharpened. He was not angry, but focused. “We can. If you do not turn this into a fight we cannot control.”
Rosamund’s face tightened. “We will handle this,” she said.
Cecily shook her head. “Well, you can wait, but I cannot.”
Rosamund’s voice broke. “Cecily, please.”
Cecily stepped back until her hand found the latch.
“If you will not decide,” she said, “then I must.”
She did not wait for permission to leave. She turned and left before her resolve could crack.
And as she reached the turn toward her own rooms, her thoughts swung hard. Back to her grandfather. And to the unfinished device on his workbench.
The one she was never meant to see.
The one he had forbidden her to touch.