Chapter 106: Engagement

Cecilia

My face went immediately hot. "Arthur—"

"You said," he continued, completely unrepentant, "that once it was over, I could do whatever I wanted." He tilted his head slightly. "Within reason, I believe were the exact words."

"I—yes, I remember." I couldn't quite meet his eyes. "It ended a few days ago, actually."

"I know." He smiled, slow and satisfied. "I've been waiting."

I stared at him. "You've been—this whole week, with all the surprises—you've been waiting?"

"I wanted tonight to be special." His hand came up to tuck a strand of hair back into place with a tenderness that completely contradicted the heat in his eyes. "You deserve a proper celebration. All of it, together."

Something warm and overwhelming moved through my chest. "You planned all of this," I said slowly, "and then you planned that, and you just—waited?"

"Patience," he said, entirely too smugly, "is a virtue."

"You're unbelievable."

"You love me."

"Annoyingly, yes." I went up on my toes and kissed him, quick and soft, before stepping back and smoothing my dress. "Tonight, then."

"Tonight," he agreed, and the promise in his voice sent heat pooling low in my belly that I absolutely could not afford to think about for the next several hours.

"Now," I said firmly, turning toward the door before I changed my mind, "we have guests arriving in ten minutes."

They came the way people always come to these things—in careful waves, each arrival carrying its own particular weight.

Richard Brahmore arrived first with his wife, who immediately found me and pulled me into a warm hug that felt entirely genuine, her eyes bright with affection. Their son Daniel trailed behind them, shaking hands with the practiced ease of someone who'd been attending events like this since childhood.

My mother arrived twenty minutes later.

I watched her from across the room—watched the exact moment she stepped through the doors and took in the full scope of Black Peak Estate lit up for an evening celebration, the flowers and the candlelight and the staff moving through the crowd with practiced elegance.

Something moved across her face that I couldn't quite name. Not admiration, exactly. More like calculation, quick and instinctive, as she assessed the room and everything in it.

Then she saw me, and her expression shifted into something warmer, more performative.

"Cecilia!" She crossed toward me, her hands outstretched. "Darling, you look absolutely stunning."

"Thank you," I said, accepting her brief embrace. "You look wonderful too."

"This place... " She glanced around again, shaking her head slowly. "I’d always known Arthur was wealthy, but I never imagined he could be this rich."

I blinked. "He's always done well for himself. He runs one of the largest private companies in the country."

"Of course, of course." She waved a hand. "I just mean—all of this." Another glance around the room, taking in the details with that calculating eye. "You've certainly landed on your feet, haven't you, darling?"

Something hot and sharp moved through my chest. "I've also done pretty well for myself," I said evenly. "The Locke family assets aren't exactly small."

But she wasn't listening. Her attention had already drifted past my shoulder, and I followed her gaze to find Arthur on the other side of the room, talking with his uncle Richard, his profile sharp and composed in the warm light.

"He's very handsome," my mother murmured, almost to herself.

I pressed my lips together and didn't respond.

The man beside her cleared his throat—a quiet, pointed sound—and I looked at him properly for the first time. He was young. Younger than I'd expected, maybe mid-twenties, with the easy confidence of someone who'd learned early that his looks opened most doors.

He was watching my mother with an expression that suggested he was used to waiting for her attention to return to him.

"This is Matthias," my mother said, apparently remembering his existence. "He's been keeping me company lately. Matthias, this is my daughter Cecilia."

"Nice to meet you," I said, because my father had raised me to be polite even when I didn't feel like it.

Matthias smiled, warm and practiced. "Congratulations on your engagement."

"Thank you." I excused myself as gracefully as I could manage.

Irene Winston had arrived somewhere in the preceding minutes, and I spotted her across the room, standing alone with a glass of champagne and an expression of cool composure that gave nothing away. She caught my eye briefly, offered a nod that was technically polite, and looked away.

Daniel, Richard's son, found me about an hour into the evening, his face animated with the energy of someone who'd had just enough champagne to become very enthusiastic about his own life.

"This is an incredible property," he said, gesturing broadly at the room. "I've been doing some research, actually—I've been getting into investigation lately. Cold cases, mostly. You'd be amazed what you can find when you know where to look."

"Is that right," I said, accepting a fresh glass from the passing server.

"Totally. I've basically solved three different cases in the last year just from publicly available records." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing classified information. "I have a real instinct for it. Arthur says I should think about going professional."

I was relatively certain Arthur had said no such thing, but I smiled anyway. "That's impressive."

"The key is patterns," Daniel continued, warming to the subject with the enthusiasm of someone who had been waiting for an audience. "Most people miss the patterns. But once you know what you're looking for—"

"Daniel." I touched his arm gently. "I need to go find someone. But I really enjoyed talking with you."

He beamed. "Anytime. Seriously, if you ever need anything investigated—"

"I'll know who to call," I said, and meant it more sincerely than he probably realized.

Carter arrived last.