“I am waiting, my lady.” Gabriel’s unmarred eyebrow rose slightly.

Not a shred of regret existed in his darkly golden brown eyes. No remorse for forcing her to writhe on his lap as though she were a seasoned harlot. She hated him for that. Hated him for exposing that side of her. That side which had led her into trouble once before so many years ago.

The side of herself that could not help but seek out trouble.

Resentment nearly choked Celia, but she managed a terse nod.

“You have my word, Mister Rose. No more nocturnal library visits while I’m here at Beaumont. Especially if there is a chance of finding myself forced to tolerate your attentions a second time.”

CHAPTER 7

“You look tired, my dear.” Lady Darby poured Celia a cup of tea, handing it to her from across the table set up in their rooms.

“I did not sleep well last night.” Celia took a steadying sip of the fragrant brew. “I’m fine, Mother. Do not worry.”

“I confess I never stirred during the night. I’ve slept so deeply these past few weeks. Your father’s condition has much improved since your brother and Violet’s wedding, and that certainly has helped matters. Their marriage has eased the earl’s mind.” Lady Darby winked at her daughter and teased, “Now, his only worry is seeing your future secured. With the right gentleman, of course.”

Celia ignored the tightening of her stomach and smiled brightly. “Of course. Although the selection is hardly noteworthy. It’s a rather bland, uninspiring lot, don’t you think?”

A tiny frown creased her mother’s brow. “You rarely give one the chance to prove otherwise, my dear. Perhaps a choice will become clearer now that so many of your friends have found their own husbands. Oh, I’m not saying you must rush about on a husband-searching mission, but you are reaching a certain age that will make things more difficult.”

“I’ve only just turned one and twenty, Mother. Surely, I’m not quite ready for a walking cane and help getting up and down the stairs.”

“The years fly by quickly when you are young, my love. Besides, the earl and I want nothing more than for you to find happiness and contentment, no matter the man you decided upon. But you will think upon it, won’t you, Celia? Surely, there is a worthy suitor with whom you might consider marriage.”

“I am trying, Mother. Truly.”

Lady Darby gently patted Celia’s hand. “I know, my darling. It is all we can ask of you. To try. To give a gentleman a chance before casting him aside. I think you are searching for something that perhaps doesn’t exist. The mythical knight on a white horse. That sort of thing.”

Celia said nothing. If only her mother knew the truth of what she needed from any man offering for her hand. The requirements far exceeded the usual listing of a good family name, the means to provide, and shared affection and respect. She needed a husband whose adoration was unquestionable. A husband who would understand and forgive her anything. A husband who would willingly ignore certain matters, or perhaps not care at all.