Page 35 of Deviant Duchess
She held the glass up to her nose, sniffed it, and then took a slow sip. Cedric grew transfixed as her lips pressed against the glass, and her soft, pink tongue deftly darted out to taste. Watching her do so caused a stir in his trousers, and he had to look away, letting out a cough as he adjusted his legs to hide the sudden bulge, and took a long swig of brandy.
“Well, as for your apology, I accept,” Deborah said as she lowered her glass. “Though I would greatly appreciate it if you would refrain from speaking so harshly to me in the future. As you now know, I will not stand idly by and allow such poor behavior.”
Cedric grinned, remembering how she called him an ogre in the hallway.
“Noted,” he remarked.
“And as for Adeline’s condition,” Deborah went on, “I would never judge Adeline for it. The fact that such intelligent women would say such a thing is a bad stain on our gender, and I am ashamed on their behalf for having such ridiculous opinions.”
Cedric’s brows rose in surprise.
“You are a woman apart, Deborah Hunt,” he murmured.
Deborah huffed, then took another sip of her brandy.
“So, I have been told,” she muttered, “Though no one has meant it as an attribute.”
“Well, it is,” Cedric replied.
For a moment, a look of pride stole over Deborah’s beautiful face.
“Your niece is like that as well, you know,” she said after a moment. “She has a mind of her own.”
The left side of Cedric’s lips twitched toward a smile.
“I am aware,” he admitted.
Deborah turned on the couch, shifting her body so she could face him.
“Tell me what you can about your relationship with Adeline,” she implored. “I have heard her side of the story, and the staff’s. Now I should like to know yours.”
Cedric drew in a breath. He’d never spoken to anyone about his relationship with his niece or sister before. Even Godric had very few details on the matter.
“My sister and I had drifted apart,” he started to explain. “She did not wish to have anything to do with the men of our family,which I do not judge her for. Our father was…well, let us just say he was cruel.
“When she got married, she kept us at arm’s length, even after Adeline was born. Then, unfortunately, a year ago, Winnie- that is, my sister- died in a carriage accident. At that point, Adeline’s father was already dead, so she came to live with me.
“I knew nothing- and I do meannothingabout children,” he went on, “But I did try. I insisted we share meals every day. That we spend time together. Go on walks. Play with her dolls. I was willing to do anything she wanted, but it did not matter. She did not want me near her.”
He shook his head, then took another long drink of his brandy.
“She would start to throw these tantrums, you see, when I would not leave. I thought that I was being responsible for not giving in to her whims, but then one night, about a month after she came here, one of those tantrums turned into one of her fits. I was scared witless the first time I saw her go through one. Afterward, I was told it was best not to upset her. So I stayed away. I thought that eventually she would come to me, but that never happened, so I went back to my old life and hired nannies and governesses for the girl. But, as you know ,she chased them all away.”
Deborah was silent for quite a while after Cedric finished, and he let the quiet stretch between them as he watched her expression shift through an array of emotions. Fear, pity, sympathy. Then, finally, understanding.
“Her heart aches for her mother,” Deborah said, her soft tone breaking the silence, “Probably more than you realize.”
“Of course it does,” Cedric agreed, but Deborah shook her head.
“You do not understand,” she replied, “Their bond? It was more than just mother and daughter. Your sister was Adeline’s best friend. Her confidant. Some might even say a soul mate. It is so very rare for such relationships to form, and it is devastating to lose them.”
That passion that Deborah spoke with, the way her eyes misted, told Cedric more of the story.
“You had that bond,” he said softly.
Deborah swallowed, keeping her eyes on her glass.
“Yes,” she rasped.
