Chapter 19 #2
The next two days passed quickly. Each music lesson ended the same way, with Julian and Amabel sliding onto the bench beside her, their small shoulders touching hers as they played the song they had written together.
The melody grew more confident each time.
It was still soft and still shaped by memory, but it was no longer trembling.
Cecily praised them warmly, and the children were proud of their accomplishment.
On the third afternoon, Cecily stood by the drawing-room window, her hands folded before her as she watched the drive leading up to the house.
She had been listening for the sound of wheels on gravel all morning, her heart lifting at every distant noise.
When she finally saw the carriage crest the far hill, she smiled.
Rosamund. Her dear sister.
Relief washed through her as she hurried outside. The carriage slowed, then stopped, and before the footman could lower the step, Rosamund was already leaning forward, searching for her.
“Cecily!”
Cecily reached her just as Rosamund stepped down. They fell into each other’s arms without hesitation, their embrace tight, full of the words they had not put to paper.
“Oh, Rosie,” Cecily whispered, her voice breaking despite all her efforts to remain composed.
Rosamund held her even tighter. “I came as soon as I could.”
Cecily drew back only enough to see her sister’s face and the familiar worry in her eyes. “I am so glad you are here,” she said, happily. “Things are better already.”
“Tell me everything,” Rosamund said.
The sisters hurried inside together, their arms still linked. A footman appeared at once, and they gave quick, breathless instructions. Rosamund’s trunk was to be put into the guest chamber beside Cecily’s, her smaller case left just inside the door.
As soon as propriety allowed, Cecily guided her sister down the corridor to the small sitting room adjoining Cecily’s room. It was the one place they could be certain of privacy. She closed the door behind them, and the moment the latch clicked, Rosamund turned to her fully.
“Cecily,” she whispered, reaching for her hands again.
Cecily tried to smile, but it faltered. They sat together on the small settee, knees touching, Rosamund’s thumb brushing over her knuckles in the way that had comforted her since childhood.
“Tell me,” Rosamund said softly. “All of it.”
Cecily took in a trembling breath and then began.
“He kissed me,” she said.
Rosamund’s gasp was soft but unmistakable. Her eyes widened, her fingers tightening around Cecily’s as if bracing for whatever came next.
But Cecily shook her head, the movement small and pained. “He said it was a mistake.”
Rosamund’s expression shifted, surprise giving way to confusion and then to something protective and fierce, but Cecily pressed on before she could speak.
“And Lady Viola heard it,” she whispered. “She came into the grove. And then she told me that the loan that destroyed Father … It was from the earl’s family. From his father.” Her voice trembled. “And the earl knew.”
Rosamund’s breath caught, her hand flying to her mouth, but Cecily kept going, the words spilling now that she had finally allowed herself to say them aloud.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “Lady Viola is trying to get rid of me. She makes it clear every time she looks at me. And he … well, aside from trying to speak to me once, he has kept his word and left me alone.”
She looked down at her hands, twisting them together in her lap.
“It is so uncomfortable to be here,” she murmured.
“In every hallway and every room, aside from the music room, I feel as though I do not belong. But we need the money. And I love the children. They are learning to play so well, and they have their recital in a few weeks. They try so hard, and I don’t want to leave them. ”
Her voice broke as tears filled her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do, Rosie.”
Rosamund squeezed Cecily’s hand. “Oh, dear sister. You cannot stay here. Not after this.”
Cecily leaned back. “I feel you are right, but this position was supposed to save us.”
“We will find another way. I cannot bear the thought of you suffering here.”
Cecily leaned into her sister’s shoulder, grateful for the familiar comfort.
I should leave. I should have left the moment I learned the truth. How can I teach these children while carrying this weight? How can I stay in the house of the man whose family destroyed mine?
At that moment, a knock sounded on the door.
Cecily and Rosamund both looked up, and Cecily rose at once and crossed the small sitting room, smoothing her gown before opening the door a few inches.
Weatherby stood in the corridor, hands clasped neatly behind his back, his expression more serious than usual. He bowed his head.
“Miss Marwood,” he said quietly. “I beg your pardon for disturbing you. May I come inside for a moment?”
Cecily hesitated only long enough to glance back at Rosamund, who gave a small, reassuring nod. Cecily stepped aside.
“Yes, Mr. Weatherby. You may.”
Weatherby entered with careful restraint, remaining just inside the threshold rather than crossing fully into the room. He paused when he saw Rosamund seated on the settee and offered her a respectful bow.
“Miss Rosamund.”
Rosamund rose and curtsied in return, her expression polite but curious.
Weatherby straightened, his attention returning to Cecily, his face still grave.
“Forgive the intrusion. I came because I thought Miss Marwood should know something.”
Cecily straightened. “What is it?”
“I just saw Lord Fairbourne walking with Lady Viola,” Weatherby said. “And I came to tell you that you should fight for him.”
Cecily stared at him, stunned. “Weatherby, no. You do not understand.”
“I do,” he said gently. “I have served this family for a long time. I have seen the earl at his worst and at his best. And I have only seen him truly happy since you arrived.”
Rosamund’s eyes widened. “Do you mean he loves her?”
Weatherby hesitated, then nodded. “I believe so.”
Cecily shook her head at once. “No. He does not. He made that very clear.”
Weatherby looked at her with quiet sympathy. “He is a difficult man who carries more guilt than any one person should. But I know what I have seen.”
“It does not matter,” Cecily said, her voice low but certain. She shook her head, trying to steady the ache in her chest. “I cannot stay here. And he has chosen his path.”
Rosamund looked at her for a long moment, her expression softening with understanding. “Cecily,” she murmured, grabbing her sister’s hand. “You should not remain in a place that hurts you.”
Cecily swallowed, her eyes shining. “I know. But I did not want you to come all this way only for me to drag you straight back out the door.”
“I came because you needed me. And if leaving is what you need, then we will leave.”
Cecily let out a shaky breath, relief and sorrow mingling in her eyes.
Weatherby nodded as his face fell, the disappointment subtle but unmistakable.
Rosamund lifted her chin, still holding Cecily’s hand. “We will gather your things,” she said softly. “And then we will go.”
Weatherby stepped aside at once, his posture straight and his expression composed, though his eyes lingered on Cecily with quiet concern.
The sisters moved past him together.