Page 3 of No Place in Time

“I don’t like this,” Rosamund said, her voice low and strained. “He’s too old for our girl.”

Cecily’s heart soared.

“He is powerful,” her father replied. “That cannot be ignored.”

Power. She knew what that meant for her.

“You’re right. We must be careful,” Rosamund continued. “He is not a man we can afford to offend.”

“But should we allow this to happen?” Thomas asked.

There was a pause.

Cecily leaned closer, scarcely breathing.

“We delay,” her father said at last, answering his own question. “As long as we can.”

Delay.

The word washed over her like cold water. Delay meant nothing. It wasn’t protection. It was a slow surrender.

“If we provoke him,” Rosamund said slowly, “we risk more than wounded pride. We risk our lands. Protection. Our standing. Our family’s future.”

“Should our daughter pay the price?” Thomas whispered.

Cecily’s stomach twisted.

“No,” Rosamund said. “But we must be cautious. Refusing him outright would carry consequences.”

Cecily pressed herself against the wall. She could not seem to draw a breath.

“Surely—” her mother continued.

A floorboard creaked in the corridor behind Cecily.

She stiffened. Someone was coming.

Inside the chamber, her father’s voice dropped lower.

“If we delay too long—”

Cecily didn’t hear the rest.

She pulled back from the door and fled down the corridor, heart hammering.

She had barely reached the bend in the hall when another sound came, hurried hoofbeats stopping in the yard below.

A moment later, a servant’s voice rose from the stairwell. “My lord. A rider from Veyron Hall.”

Cecily froze, then edged back toward her parents’ door after the message was delivered, hiding herself in the shadows.

Inside, she heard the faint crackle of parchment being opened.

Her father did not speak at once. When he did, his voice was low. Controlled.

“He says he will return in a fortnight.”

Her mother’s breath caught. “For… our answer?”