Chapter 13

Chapter 13

By grandfather, could he possibly mean...

“Your Grace...?” Dillon asked shakily. The elderly man gave her a slight smile. It was one of encouragement. Dillon swallowed hard. She never thought she’d see the duke.

He had already died in the novel, which was why Cedric had been the duke. Right before Emily died in childbirth, the former duke had also passed away. Cedric inherited the dukedom, but his successor had died without so much as glimpsing the light of the world.

The late duke had loved and cherished Cedric. Losing his wife and child right after losing his loving grandfather had only caused Cedric to fall deeper into despair. The current duke, however, was apparently still alive and well.

“What brings you here?” Cedric asked.

“I came after receiving your telegram,” Graham replied. With a pleased smile, he said, “It seems I arrived just in time to witness a wonderful sight.”

Dillon was in a total state of panic. The duke had witnessed his dear grandson’s proposal—if Dillon rejected Cedric now, in front of the duke, she wouldn’t even be able to call herself human.

“Goodness, it seems I’ve interrupted you at a crucial moment,” Graham said. “I’m sorry, Cedric. I’ll give the young lady a chance to respond.”

Graham smiled sheepishly, gesturing to Dillon. Cedric turned his gaze back to her. Exaggeratedly rolling his eyes, he calmly repeated himself.

“Will you marry me, Lady Dillon?” he asked again.

Twice. She had now been proposed to not once, but twice. Everyone was waiting for Dillon’s acceptance: Cedric, the duke, her family, and everyone else in the ballroom. There wasn’t a single person who expected her to refuse, including Dillon herself. She weighed the absolute certainty with which she knew her family’s reputation would be ruined on the one hand, against a tragic future that might not even come to pass on the other. The scales tipped in one direction.

“Y-Yes,” Dillon replied. “I happily accept.”

Wow. As if everyone had planned it, a thunderous cheer mixed with applause echoed around the room. Everyone was happy. Dillon felt like she had lost her mind. She was probably imagining that her vision was starting to blur.

“I don’t know if the ring will fit,” Cedric mused. “It’s an heirloom from my grandmother.”

He gently slid it onto Dillon’s ring finger, so that a huge diamond ring now loosely hung there.

“It’s okay that it doesn’t fit...” she mumbled, her voice subdued as if she was holding back tears.

She clenched her shaking hands. The hearts of the people who heard her reply fluttered. The ring was an heirloom of the dukedom, so it didn’t matter if it fit or not. What was important was that they had been moved to tears by the lady’s acceptance of the Duke’s bold proposal. It was the very definition of a dramatic scene.

Dillon took Cedric’s hand and slowly helped him to his feet, the party guests watching intently all the while. Dillon’s light brown eyes were watery as she looked at Cedric, her expression indescribable. She opened her mouth as if to say something before snapping it shut again and ducking her head.

All the noblewomen in attendance knew what Dillon was feeling, how overwhelming it must have felt to receive a proposal for the first time—like she would burst into tears at any moment. Honestly, considering that the person who proposed had been Cedric Hayworth, it was amazing that Dillon could hold back her tears at all.

This is such a touching scene, they were all clearly thinking. Some of the noblewomen even shed tears in Dillon’s stead, dabbing at their eyes with their handkerchiefs, and young girls swooning at the romance on display. There were men among the crowd who made a mental note to model their own future proposals after Cedric’s. In fact, there would follow a trend among nobles of proposing publicly in the middle of a ball, but that was a matter for the future.

Right now, there was only the loudly applauding audience, the pleased family, and the suitor whose leg had fallen asleep. There was no other choice, Dillon thought. All I can do is hope that he’ll call off the engagement.

And then there was Dillon Langton, who still hadn’t given up.

Rather than a flurry of dancers, the ballroom was filled with chatter about the proposal. Graham and Cedric Hayworth departed from the ballroom after the event, taking refuge in a nearby cottage (read: small villa) that they owned. This was partly because Cedric was no longer a mere guest but Dillon’s fiancé, and partly because the Langton home wasn’t big enough to house both Cedric and Graham.

“I’ll send that to the jewelers to get it adjusted,” Cedric told Dillon, writing down the size of her finger he had just measured before leaving with the ring. Dillon couldn’t bring herself to tell him that there was no need to get it adjusted, so she just let him go.

Emily, on the other hand, was disappointed that she couldn’t get a good look at the ring now that Cedric had taken it with him. Dillon may have been the one who had just gotten engaged, but Emily was much more excited.

“I’ll be able to visit you later anyway, so it’s okay!” Emily consoled herself. She sounded as if she had not only known this would happen all along but also wanted to be praised for not coming between Dillon and Cedric. She lay beside Dillon and whispered excitedly in her ear late into the night, Dillon only patting her on the cheek in response.

After Emily had fallen asleep, Dillon went back to trying to think of a way to make Cedric call off the engagement. It was something the Langtons could never ask for, so if Cedric didn’t take action himself, Dillon was in trouble.

It was the first time she had ever considered her family’s class position disadvantageous. She agonized over it all night, but no matter how many times she turned the situation over in her mind, she could only think of one solution: It would be best to ask Cedric directly to call it off.

The next day, when Dillon was on her second cup of tea after breakfast, Cedric returned to the Langton estate. Of course, her family and the servants made a bigger fuss than Dillon did herself.

One servant girl, for example, told Dillon that she should tie her hair up in a bun in accordance with the latest fashion, but Dillon refused. She had already decided what she was going to tell Cedric, and there was no need to doll herself up for it. When she arrived in the drawing room wearing a shawl over her olive-green muslin dress, Cedric was already waiting for her, a perfunctory smile on his face.

Dillon gave a light curtsy. “Good morning, my lord.”

“Indeed it is,” Cedric replied.

Dillon wondered if she should serve tea and have the conversation right there in the drawing room, but decided against it—she had already had too much tea that morning because she was so anxious. Taking a walk outside seemed like the better choice.

“Would you like to go for a stroll?” she asked.

“That would be nice.”

He offered his arm, and Dillon accepted it. It was much firmer than the familiar arms of Dillon’s father or her brother, Haley. They started down the same path where their previous stroll had been cut short. The path was dotted with daisies along each side, still wet with morning dew.

“Soon, the flowers will be in full bloom,” Cedric said.

“Indeed,” Dillon replied, and Cedric nodded vigorously as if he hadn’t raised the topic in the first place. Dillon listened to the crinkle of the foliage as they walked, wondering if and when she should cut to the chase. She was not particularly well-versed in eloquently steering a conversation. Oh, who cares?

“It was a very sudden proposal,” she finally said, right in the middle of some small talk about the cold oysters and lemons that had been served at the party.

“Really?” Cedric asked. “I personally thought the timing was just right.”

He answered smoothly and seemingly without any embarrassment. Dillon bit down on her lower lip. It had really been an impressive first meeting. They had taken a walk alone together and even danced at the ball. To the gossiping busybodies who surrounded them, it would have been sufficient evidence of a genuinely romantic love story, but that wasn’t the real story.

“We both know that our relationship was never like that, don’t you agree?” Dillon asked, looking Cedric straight in the eye. She curved her lips in a grim smile. It was a threatening gesture that seemed to say, You and I both know the truth.

“Everything worked out for the best,” Cedric said. “And from my perspective, the situation seemed to call for it.”

“Is marriage really something to decide on based on a situation calling for it?” Dillon retorted.

“It wasn’t just because of what happened at the ball,” said Cedric. “I had already decided to propose to Viscount Langton’s daughter before I even arrived here.”

Cedric tilted his head, waiting for her to agree. Right? his gestures seemed to say. You already knew that. She could practically hear him say it.

“I already had the intent, and an opportunity happened to arise,” Cedric continued. “Besides, I was fulfilling your request.”

“My request?” Dillon asked.

“You asked me not to propose to Lady Emily,” Cedric elaborated, smiling gently.

It seemed like a kind smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Dillon forced a smile of her own in response. If she said this, he said that. If she poked that side, he poked the other side. This man was quite the worthy opponent.

“I even asked you first, if, in the eventuality that I didn’t propose to Emily, you’d be willing,” Cedric said, “and from what I can remember, you never said no.”

It was true that she had never said no, but who would have thought such a thing would ever happen? Dillon fought the urge to run a hand down her face. In the original story, Novel Dillon was scorned for showing Cedric too much kindness. Now, Dillon had never thought she’d be able to win Cedric’s favor by doing the opposite. She had been hostile because she thought it would irritate him. It had never occurred to her that she’d be proposed to in the middle of a ball.

“I hope you didn’t propose just because you knew I couldn’t say no, under the circumstances,” Dillon said, her jaw set.

I never took you to be so cunning, was what she might as well have been saying. Understanding the implication, Cedric furrowed his brows.

“I never once thought you wouldn’t refuse,” he replied. “I made that proposal with your rejection in mind.”

“Even though His Grace was right there, watching us?” Dillon asked. “Wouldn’t that be an insult to the duke’s family? How could I possibly refuse under those circumstances?”

“In that case, I could say the same for my actions,” Cedric countered. “I didn’t want to humiliate you by giving a flimsy excuse. I know how important honor is to the Langton family.”

Dillon bit her tongue. It was a very reasonable argument. She always seemed to be at a disadvantage when she quarreled with Cedric.