Page 111 of Caught By the Ruthless Duke
“Yes.” She studied him warily.
“I thought perhaps you might share your approach. Not,” he added quickly, “because I doubt your methods, but because I’d like to implement something similar on my properties. If you’d be willing to advise me.”
The request hung between them, awkward but sincere.
“I’d be happy to,” Cressida said quietly. “Perhaps we could correspond about it?”
Relief flickered across her father’s face. “I’d like that. Very much.” He hesitated. “You’re doing good work there. Important work. I should have said so sooner.”
It wasn’t an apology for everything that had come before. But it was acknowledgment, and that felt like progress.
“Thank you, Papa,” she said, her face breaking into a tentative smile.
He was soon called away to assess the different shades of lilac her mother was considering.
“They’re trying,” Theodore remarked, appearing at her shoulder with the uncanny timing of a man who had been watching from across the garden. “I can see it.”
“I know.” She leaned into him slightly. “It’s strange. I spent so long wanting them to see me, and now that they’re making the effort, I’m not sure what to do with it.”
“You don’t have to forgive them immediately.” His hand found hers. “Or completely. You’re allowed to let them earn it.”
Cressida turned her head, eyeing him. “Is that what you’re doing?”
“They hurt you.” His voice carried an edge that suggested he hadn’t entirely forgiven that particular transgression. “Butthey’re making amends. So, yes, I’m allowing them to prove themselves.”
“Cressida!” Harriet wove through clusters of guests, her face luminous despite the late summer heat. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere.”
“I’ve been here.” Cressida gestured around the garden. “Rather conspicuously, I thought.”
“Yes, well, I had important news and couldn’t wait another moment to share it.” Harriet’s hands fluttered with barely contained excitement. “I’m with child.”
Cressida’s response was immediate and instinctive. She embraced her friend fiercely, joy blooming warm in her chest. “Oh, Harriet! That’s wonderful!”
“John is insufferable about it already. He keeps asking if I need anything, if I’m comfortable, if I should be sitting down.” Harriet pulled back, her eyes twinkling. “I told him I’m breeding, not dying, but he refuses to listen.”
Peter cleared his throat pointedly. “I believe that’s my cue to find someone less prone to discussing delicate matters in public.”
“Don’t be stuffy,” Cressida told him. “You’ll have to endure such conversations, eventually.”
“Perhaps in thirty years.” He departed with exaggerated haste, nearly colliding with Mary, who had escaped their mother’s orbit with the determination of an escaping prisoner.
“Mama’s found a new target,” Mary announced cheerfully. “Lady Pemberton. They’re discussing the upcoming Season’s fashions with terrifying enthusiasm.”
“Terrifying seems excessive,” Cressida said.
“You haven’t heard Mama’s theories about sleeve shapes.” Mary shuddered. “I fled before she could involve me in a demonstration.”
Harriet laughed, then touched Cressida’s arm. “How are things at Ashmere?”
“Very happy, actually.”
“Good. You deserve it.”
“Your Grace!”
Lady Seymore swept toward them, Lady Norwell gliding behind, both radiating matriarchal satisfaction.
“There you are.” Lady Seymore kissed Cressida’s cheek. “We’ve been discussing you.”
