Secret Valentine by Katy Madison Read Free Book Online

think he could possibly
understand how isolated and alone she could feel in the middle of a
crowded room. "No."
    "Cecelia, I made mistakes last year. I would
make it better for you this time."
    What was he up to? He must still be concerned
with finding her a husband. He would put more effort into it this
time. He must be very worried he would have to marry her himself if
he didn't rise above his normal complacency and exert more energy
in the hunt for a suitable suitor for Cecelia.
    "If you don't want to go to Almack's or
balls, you don't have to. We could go to the theater, the
opera—"
    "Perhaps I should just put on mobcaps and be
done with it." She didn't know why she didn't just consign herself
to the ranks of spinsters. Certainly at twenty-three she could
consider herself on the shelf, a veritable ape-leader. A mobcap
would just confirm the fact and relieve Devin of the need to worry
about finding her a husband or stepping into the role himself.
    She opened her mouth to tell him about her
business and that he needn't worry about her needing to marry and
found she couldn't make her voice come out.
    "Don't you want children? Don't you want a
husband? Don't you—"
    "I want a lot of things I can't have. I want
my mother back." Where in the stars had that thought come from?
"I'm used to not getting—"
    "—want me?"
    "—everything I want." Had he said what she
thought he said? But she was rolling and couldn't stop. He had no
idea what it was like for her. Everyone adored him; everyone doted
on him; everyone gave him everything he ever wanted. Even her. "If
I ever marry, I'll have it all. I shall have the poems written to
my eyes and someone who"—she grabbed her poetry book and searched
desperately for the passage—"yearns to—"
    He yanked the book out of her hand. "Quit
hiding in books, Cecelia. Quit hiding behind your spectacles. I
can't give you your mother back, but you can have most everything
you want. Just tell me what it is you yearn for."
    Didn't he understand that the one thing she
wanted was the one thing she never deserved? What woman could
expect a man's love when her own parent couldn't love her?
    Devin took a step toward her. Time seemed to
hang in that odd pre-explosion standstill, until he turned on his
heel and stalked out of the room.
    * * *
    Cecelia spent a lot of time in her attic
assembling cards as fast as she could. Business was picking up, and
she wanted to be sure to keep up with the demand. In less than two
weeks her opportunity for this year would be over. Work helped her
not think about anything else.
    The valentines kept arriving daily. A set of
fine lawn handkerchiefs, which she was invited to toss in her
secret valentine's direction, was delivered. How she was to manage
that when she had no idea who he was, she didn't know.
    Next a beautiful Coburg bonnet with a
burgundy ribbon around the brim arrived with a message that she
should not hide inside so her valentine would have more opportunity
to gaze upon her loveliness. Which had the effect of making her
smile when she tied it on to go out and make her rounds.
    Devin had asked why she was smiling. She had
said, "No reason at all."
    "New bonnet?"
    "Well, yes."
    "That's it then. New bonnets have a way of
making women smile."
    Which had served to make her frown, and he
had traipsed around with her with a perplexed silence. Until he
started asking why she had to visit several similar stores.
Couldn't she get everything she needed at just one of them?
    Then came a set of pearl-studded hairpins,
which would tempt her valentine to remove all her pins and run his
fingers through her silken tresses. Cecelia wondered if the usual
tangles would stop him.
    Her secret valentine was a romantic. That was
sure. She encountered her spotty friend one day on the street while
taking her cards to be delivered. He had been less spotty, but
hadn't pressed to delay her. Still, it could be him.
    There was one shopkeeper's son who seemed to
gaze at her