For Better or For Worse

Chapter 8

“Um, Emily and Dillon went to visit Morton,” Haley Langton, their older brother, said frantically. He was speaking to Cedric, who wore a stoic—indifferent, really—expression. The Marquess of Northerland wasn’t trying to come off as threatening, but he had a way of unconsciously putting people on the spot.

“I see,” Cedric replied, turning away and leaving without another word. Haley let out a quiet sigh of relief.

For the past few days, Dillon had been putting her utmost effort into preventing Emily and Cedric from interacting—her enthusiastic plea in the garden seemed not to have won Cedric over at all.

“Can’t you just give up on proposing to Emily and go back to your estate?” she had asked.

“That would be difficult,” Cedric had replied. When he said “difficult,” he had been referring to the “go back to your estate” portion of Dillon’s request, but that wasn’t how she heard it.

“I’m going to do everything I can to block your proposal, my lord,” she had declared.

It was as if she was on a crusade, and Cedric was a tyrant king trying to invade and pillage a weaker nation. Even so, he had yet to say, “I don’t plan on proposing to Lady Emily right away.”

Was this stubbornness? Well, it didn’t matter what it was called. If he gave in too easily, it would feel like he was only feeding into the accusations of him being a playboy. So he wasn’t going to give up. First of all, Emily had never said that she was bothered by the idea—which made sense because her older sister had never allowed her to speak for herself—so it would be quite strange if he backed down.

Moreover, if he went back now, he would have had a hard time explaining things to his grandfather. Cedric had sent the duke a telegram a few days ago.

Dear Grandfather,

Haley Langton is a man. Can’t marry him. Three children in the Langton family.

It was a short and precise telegram.

All right.

The reply was similarly short and hadn’t said for Cedric to return. Now that Cedric had made it clear to the Langtons that his reason for visiting was to propose to one of the viscount’s daughters, immediately leaving the estate would be tantamount to saying that there was no reason at all to visit aside from a marriage proposal. At the very least, he should stay for a week and try to pass the time with them pleasantly. Eventually parting on an appropriately amicable note would save face for both sides.

Not that there was any need to inform Dillon of that. He could have told her it wasn’t necessary to hurriedly block him every time he tried to approach Emily or to avoid him like the plague, but Cedric didn’t say anything—he just didn’t feel like it.

* * *

The next day, the Langton estate threw a modest ball in commemoration of Cedric’s visit. It was a small event to which members of the upper class were invited, including nearby aristocrats, and since it was held on such short notice, it was also rather informal. The dance floor was small, but there still weren’t enough guests to fill it, which was why the entire Langton family was also in attendance, including Dillon and Emily, of course.

The two sisters were currently having a conversation next to the beverage table, which was on the opposite side of the hall from where Cedric was making small talk with the people around him and watching as Dillon and Emily’s conversation grew more animated. He wondered what would happen if he sauntered across the floor right now and asked for a dance.

The first dance of the night was very meaningful, so declining would be extremely rude, and on top of that, it would have been simply unacceptable for the hosts of the party to turn down a guest. That was why Cedric was curious about how Dillon would react to the “danger” of him walking over and asking Emily for a dance—it interested him.

“Excuse me,” Cedric murmured as he made his way across the crowded dance floor toward the two Langton sisters, having confirmed that the conductor of the band was ready.

“Good evening, Lady Dillon, Lady Emily,” Cedric said. He had to bite down on his lip to keep from bursting out laughing almost as soon as the words left his mouth. Dillon’s face had twisted into the most dynamic expression of suffering he had ever seen. It only made him want to tease her more. Cedric looked at Emily and smiled. “Lady Emily, pardon me, but may I—”

“Oh, my lord,” Dillon unsurprisingly interrupted. “I really, truly, desperately want to dance right now, but nobody has asked me!”

Dillon’s eyes did look desperate, but not for a dance. Cedric sneaked a glance at the dance card hanging around her neck. It was entirely blank, so it seemed true that no one had yet asked her to dance.

“It would be wonderful if a benevolent gentleman would ask me first,” Dillon said, her eyes boring into Cedric’s and making the implication obvious. “It would be oh-so-wonderful.”

She was by no means behaving like a respectable lady, and Cedric wondered if she was purposely acting pitifully to elicit sympathy from him. Either way, it would have been rude, by high society standards, to deny such a beseechingly pleading lady.

Cedric extended his hand toward Dillon. “May I have this dance?” he asked.

“Happily,” Dillon practically sang. “How sweet of you to ask.”

Emily watched them brightly with sparkling green eyes, even giving Cedric a pump of her fist in the air. Unable to understand the reason for her encouragement, he could only blink in acknowledgment as he headed toward the floor.

As soon as the waltz began, Cedric immediately understood that Emily’s gesture hadn’t been directed at him, but at his feet. It hadn’t even been a minute since they started dancing, and his partner had already stepped on his foot twice.

“Sorry,” Dillon muttered, ducking her head as if genuinely uncomfortable. Once she straightened out her shoulders, the conversation seemed to pick up right where it always left off. “There are young ladies of high society all over the capital, so there’s no imminent need to seek out Emily, is there?”

“There is,” Cedric replied. “I need a Langton daughter. I need the Langton lineage.”

At his blunt response, Dillon narrowed her eyes sharply. “That kind of comment is offensive to Emily. It means you’re not looking at her as a person but as a tool— Ah, sorry.”

The “ah, sorry” followed the bottom of Dillon’s foot connecting with Cedric’s toe yet again.

“It’s fine,” Cedric replied, then returned to the topic at hand. “I don’t believe I’m being unreasonable to think this way. After all, marriage between two nobles is a marriage between their families.”

“She’s different though— Ah, sorry. She’s still got stars in her eyes, loves romance novels, and no matter how many times I tell her it won’t happen, yearns for true love.”

“Don’t you read them too?” Cedric asked.

How did this become about me? Confusion was written all over Dillon’s face, her head tilted.

“I do,” she replied. “Only the bestsellers though.” This conversation was as out-of-step as the dance. “In any case, if it’s about lineage, then—ah, sorry—it doesn’t have to be the Langtons. There are plenty of other noble families.”

“They pale in comparison to the Langtons,” Cedric replied. To protect his grandfather’s honor, he kept quiet about how the duke had strongly suggested Cedric marry the granddaughter of his first love.

“This is a little embarrassing to say, but the Langton family is currently in a financially difficult position—ah, sorry—so I don’t recommend us,” Dillon said.

“Southerwick has more than enough wealth, so it’s fine.”

“Plus we’re very unlucky.”

“I’m a very lucky person, so it won’t matter,” Cedric countered.

“Um, then...” Dillon cast around for another excuse. “Emily is not your type, my lord.”

“I’m sure her personality can make up for it.” Dillon’s jaw dropped at Cedric’s cheeky response.

“What confidence...” she muttered under her breath, ducking her head. Cedric pretended not to hear her, so she continued, frustration written all over her face, “Even so, my lord, I cannot allow it. Is it really so difficult to respect my one request that you choose any noble lady in the world other than her? What if I say it’s my one and only wish in this life?” Dillon asked.

There it was again. Now that she was back to monologuing about Emily, Cedric couldn’t control the words that came out of his mouth.

“If not Emily, then, would you...?”

Dillon looked like she was again wondering why Cedric was bringing her up at all. “If you were to reconsider, I’d be very happy.” It was a ridiculous answer.

Cedric had meant, “Would you marry me instead of your sister?” but Dillon had heard, “How would you feel if I didn’t propose to your sister?”

“Oh, sorry,” Dillon said. Even while misunderstanding his question, Dillon still had the sense to apologize for stepping on his foot. The middle of Cedric’s forehead twitched.

“I won’t disappear from the Langton estate just because you step on my toes dozens of times,” he quipped.

“I’ve only stepped on them seven times, my lord, and I’m not doing this on purpose. I just don’t dance that often.” Her expression was sour, her reply even more so. “Of course, I wouldn’t complain if you did disappear. Ah, sorry.”

And now she had stepped on his toes eight times, to boot. The pain in his foot combined with the pointless argument was what pushed Cedric over the edge this time.

“Is this really just for your little sister’s sake?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not jealous that I’m asking for your much-younger sister’s hand in marriage rather than yours, even though you’re the one at the ideal age for marriage?” he asked coldly.

Dillon’s lips trembled slightly.

“Ow!” Cedric cried out. Paired with his cry was a stomp to the top of his foot, much stronger than any of the earlier instances. Damn it. This time, she had stepped on him with her heel, not her toe.

The pain naturally brought the dance to a stop, and when Cedric looked up in bewilderment, his dance partner had one corner of her mouth quirked up. In the brief pause, Dillon got on her tiptoes and leaned in close, so close that they were now cheek to cheek.

“That last one was on purpose,” she said, her low, husky voice tickling Cedric’s ear. With that, Dillon pushed Cedric away, briskly walking off the dance floor and out of the ballroom.

Watching her receding figure, dazed, Cedric thought, Does that mean all those other times were actually accidental?