Cecilia's Claim Read online

  The ball was not quite the place for a young lady of the ton to attend unescorted. However Cecy reasoned at almost five-and-twenty she was no longer in the first flush of youth, and chose to disregard the fact that her brother would lose what little patience he still had with her if he discovered her whereabouts. She needed this one night of escape.

  However, she was not as obvious as most ladies she saw, and she kept her domino tight around her. As she stood near the edge of the ballroom and watched the antics, which were becoming increasingly risqué, Cecy was conscious of two tall and impeccably dressed gentlemen approaching. Once they reached her, one stood on each side of her. They were so close she could smell their colognes, which were light, and fresh, and also the indefinable scent of man. Both were pleasant, and neither alarmed her.

  "You know we've been waiting for you, love." The taller of the two men spoke in a soft voice, as he removed her glass and handed it to his companion. His French accent was hardly noticeable. "We want you, both of us, together." As he spoke Cecy realized they had maneuvered her out of the room, and into an antechamber. She reasoned she must have wanted to go with them, or her mind would have registered their movements.

  "You do?" How stupid, you know this, have they not told you on each occasion you have met them?

  "Ah Cecy, you know this, don't dissemble." The other man spoke, and leaned into her. She felt the telltale bulge in his immaculate knee breeches stir and press against her and willed her body not to tremble. It was a long time since she had enjoyed the benefits of a willing cock ready to pleasure her.

  "We told you months ago, we'll tell you now. We come as a package, both of us." He bent his head and kissed her. Her moth opened to let his tongue enter and mesh with her own. Cecy moaned; she had missed feeling him. Caleb, her lover and she had thought, the man she would wed.

  Behind her she felt her skirts lifted and cool air wafted over her heated skin. The other man—her ex-lover—had lifted her skirts and was grinding his cloth-covered prick against her.

  He nipped the nape of her neck, then licked and laved the spot as all the while Caleb's tongue mimicked the act of possession she yearned for.

  "Well," Philippe spoke softly in her ear. "Do you give in? Let us take you as you want? As we want?"

  His words were the cold water she needed, and she pulled away. How could she have forgotten? "Sadly we don't want the same things." She pressed her fingers together, and welcomed the sting as her nails caught the soft skin. It reminded her of what she would and wouldn't accept. "I want you both, that is true but I don't want the rest. I cannot accept pain in any guise." Cecy pulled back and moved toward the ballroom.

  The tempo and raucousness had increased in the short time they'd been absent. She turned to ask Caleb to escort her to the door, when he caught her in his arms and ran his hands over the top of her breasts, one finger slipping below the lace edging as he whispered in her ear.

  "Laugh at me dammit, act the part. Pretend you want me, let us melt into the crowd. I see your brother."

  "Which?" She tried to turn and look around the room. Caleb held her fast and pushed her head into his neck. A tiny pulse jerked under cheek.

  "Be still, He's moving closer."

  Fear ran up her spine. She laughed obediently, and fluttered her fan. The last thing she wanted was to be caught out. Peregrine her eldest brother was not happy with her as it was.

  "Who?" she asked urgently. She jerked her head to one side to try to see who approached. As she did her domino slipped and she hastened to cover her face once more it was too late.

  "Randall."

  That was a relief, Randall and Cecy always watched out for each other. She leaned toward Caleb and laughed again. She hoped it didn't sound as uneasy as she thought it might.

  "Damn, it's too late." Caleb muttered. "He knows."

  In that case there was no need to dissemble. Cecy straightened and smiled at Randall as he stopped in front of them. "Why how nice to see you, Sir."

  "I doubt it." Randall touched her arm. " Cecy you need to go home, Peregrine is here."

  Chapter One

  Not many years before, she would have looked out of the coach window with interest, exclaimed at the ever-changing view and bounced on the squab in excitement at everything she saw. Now it was all she could do to smile when her brother drew his horse alongside the coach window and asked if she was warm enough, hungry, or fatigued. In truth although she was not actually fatigued, she thought the journey was tedious and couldn't wait for it to end.

  Randall bent his head to speak to her.

  "We stop very soon, for according to our esteemed brother, I must arrive in style, not road weary on my horse." He rolled his eyes to show what he thought of Peregrine and his diktats. "I have bespoke a chamber and a parlor at The Boar, so you can partake of refreshments and I can look my best."

  Typical male. Do I not need to look my best? Well she thought, honest to herself, probably not. She was with Randall on sufferance, at the behest of Peregrine their eldest brother. Cecilia was, he pronounced in his usual pontificating way, too dangerous for her own good.

  She nodded at Randall and he once more let his horse draw ahead. Cecy watched him disappear from her view, subsided back onto the seat and wished she were with him. It would have been perfect to be riding in the weak autumn sunshine instead of sitting bored inside the coach. In fact it would be even better not to be here at all, but at Sarrington Manor, the house her grandmamma had left to her, close by the family seat in Northamptonshire. There she could be herself away from all disapproval. However it had been decided by Perry she should accompany Randall, therefore it was a fait accompli. Peregrine had proclaimed he had no faith in her staying out of the ton's eyes and eluding their censure, or away from trouble in such familiar surroundings. Neither Cecy nor Randall had a say in the matter. It was as well they enjoyed each other's company and accepted each other for what they were.

  True to Randall's word within the hour they were ensconced in a snug parlor, with an array of tempting goodies in front of them.

  "Randall?" she asked as he leaned back in his chair. "Why am I here?"

  Randall made a steeple of his fingers and looked at her curiously. "To help me settle? Why do you think?" He grinned.

  "Well, not to help you settle," she said frankly. "Perhaps because I am an embarrassment? But I am four-and-twenty, almost an old maid. Why is it imperative to remove me from London and send me here? Surely Sarrington Manor would have sufficed? I have lived a life of a nun for many years now."

  Randall's eyes crinkled at the corners as he stared at her. How she loved this brother. She knew he had secrets, well didn't they all? But Randall had more than most, and she ached for him.

  "Cecy, your idea of a nun does not reconcile with others."

  Well no, not when I think of some of the toys you have presented me with.

  She had no time to ponder before he continued. “It may have something to do with inviting men into your bedchamber whilst you were still at school. Or perhaps your antics at Lady Gravesend's ball? To say nothing of slapping The Earl Of Beverstoke at Almacks not many weeks ago." Randall smiled as if her antics didn't bother him unduly. She her other siblings were so different from Peregrine that Cecy often wondered if her beloved Mama, after providing the heir, looked elsewhere to warm her sheets.

  However, being reminded of her youthful misdemeanors made her flush. "Ha, it was Gussie who invited the men in, not me. I just took advantage of her generosity. And Beverstoke? He deserved it. He is a pig. Do you know what he thought I would be interested in? Do you?"

  Randall laughed and handed her the last patty. "Though I may agree, pig or not, Almacks is not the place to say so. Nor is a ball where all eyes on you, the place for assignations. And I will add there is no chance of his lordship ever repeating his requests to you or anyone else. He has, I believe, decided his absence will be most appreciated."

  That is one thing less to think about, and perhaps he do
es have a point about my actions. But the assignations were not down to me, and it was slap the Earl or kick him in the bollocks. That would have caused even a greater scandal.

  "Yes, well, he was rude to me, I returned the favor. So here I am, foisted on you. Randall I am truly sorry." She was, but she wasn't sorry to be out of Peregrine's orbit and his glee at being able to dictate to her. She loved him dearly, but prosy could have been his middle name. She wrinkled her nose. "However it will be good to be out of the censure of the tabbies. And I include our dearest brother in their ranks."

  Randall laughed. "That's true for both of us love, and I'm not sorry you're with me, not at all. It'll be pleasant to have someone to manage the house, take care of hiring servants and be there to talk to when I'm home. To a person who wants no truck with the marriage mart. Someone I love and trust. Believe it or not, I miss uncomplicated female companions. So you, my dear, do me a favor. Now if you're finished shall we press on? 'Tis but a half dozen miles. These I'll ride inside the coach with you. Arrive in style."

  ****

  The views, as they trundled along high above the river, did at last catch Cecelia's attention. After all if this was to be her home for the foreseeable future she needed to take heed. Far below across the fields, the shimmer of water looked lazy and sullen. The darkening sky did nothing to dispel her feelings of unease, as they got closer to their destination. Not one to be normally superstitious, Cecilia wondered why she felt as if someone had walked over her grave. Her skin tingled in a most unpleasant way. Not like the way she had felt when…She gave herself a mental shake. Those thoughts were best not remembered.

  The countryside began to change; the occasional farmhouse and cottage became a street of low buildings, pleasantly whitewashed and with neat thatched roofs. Whoever the lord of the manor was he took pride in the accommodation of his workers. A few urchins waved as they drove past.

  Between the houses, glimpses of the river showed, and every so often a small boat could be seen tied up and bobbing on the gentle current. The sun broke through the clouds and sent a shaft of brilliance into the water, and it sparkled. Cecy smiled. She had no illusions; it would not always be thus. However for now, it seemed the village was welcoming them.

  The corner of the lane leading to the house was, according to Randall, somewhat tight. It was, Cecilia accorded, a truth. Only due to the skill of the coachman did they turn in a smooth progression that drew admiration from her.

  Finally they pulled up outside a snug house, which she acknowledged, was perfect for Randall. Cecilia wandered through the rooms as Randall gave instructions to the coachman regarding stables and their accommodation. The public rooms were spacious, and she saw to her delight very elegantly furnished, and a small room overlooking the river would be perfect as a study for Randall. She herself would take the even smaller room attached to the second bedchamber as her own private domain. Although there were only three bedchambers overall, plus two attic rooms for whomsoever needed them, there was more than enough space for the two of them not to be on top of each other. Along one side there was a long low building running from the riverside track toward the village green, in essence an annex, perfect for the housekeeper Mrs. Batting and her husband, their general factotum, plus Cecy's maid and Randall's valet. A tidy but tiny garden behind the house, with currant bushes and an apple tree delighted her. Then to her joy another garden across the rutted lane, which abutted onto the riverbank, and where a plethora of autumn flowers cascaded over an old stone wall. Cecilia decided she could be happy here.

  If only…. She sighed. If only was not to be allowed in her vocabulary. She would put her past behind her and she would be happy.

  Fighting talk, she decided as Randall sat opposite her at the dinner table later that evening.

  "We will need to find a larger house at some point," he remarked as he toyed with his wine glass. He might work for customs and excise, but Randall was no fool. Wine, tax paid of course, was always welcome in his home. "We will surely soon annoy each other here." He smirked. "Well one can but hope some activities we are able to indulge in could annoy the other. Envy perchance?"

  "Oh Randall, this is my fault." Cecy was dismayed. "I'll go back to London, or even better to the Manor Grandmamma left to me. We don't need to let Peregrine know. I cannot be allowed to crowd you. Why should you suffer for my folly?"

  "Don't worry, you won't be. Allowed to live alone or crowd me." He elaborated. "As for anything else? Firstly do you really think he who knows everything wouldn't discover your whereabouts? I swear the man has eyes everywhere. Then both our lives would be more than uncomfortable. Our dear brother can become mighty intractable, especially if his ideas are thwarted. As for anything else? I do not foresee my drought ending anytime soon; more is the pity. Ah well, such is life. I will also be away part of the time and have no time for dalliance. This job holds great responsibility. No doubt we will muddle along fine m'dear. Just lie low until Peregrine gets this latest bee out of his breeches, and then take up your life again as you so desire. Before I forget, here is a roll of readies." He passed a roll of notes to her. Cecy put it in her reticule, there was no point in protesting, and she may well need cash. As Peregrine managed her fortune until she was either wed or thirty years of age, Randall and she had long since come to an agreement. He bankrolled her, and she kept a tally of how much she would need to pay him back when she had access to money. The pin money Peregrine accorded her was negligible. Why their Papa felt the need to ask Perry to oversee her allowance and her fortune Cecy couldn't fathom. However over the last few months her Papa had passed more and more responsibility over, and Peregrine thrived on it.

  "I'll be out later tonight, should I asked Mrs. Batting to sleep in?" Randall asked as they rose from the table, and he led the way into the drawing room. There was no idea of Cecilia retiring whilst he drank his port. Randall had long since taught her to enjoy a glass of the tawny liquid.

  "Not at all, I am well able to hold my own if needed." Cecy settled into a comfortable chair near the fireplace. "And what could she do? Lovely though she is I fail to see how she would foil any intruder, unless she sat on them. Why she must be less than five foot tall and weigh over a dozen stone. Any ill-wisher would reach Newton Bushel before she left her room."

  Randall laughed and stooped to kiss her cheek. The affection he held for her was visible in his eyes. "So true. Very well, I will let you have your own way. Be sure to check all doors and windows are locked, and I will see you in the morning, I hope you have an enjoyable night." His eyes twinkled, and Cecy laughed. He knew her so well. The sewing tools he had purchased for her had more than one use.

  "God willing we will both be fine. It is a night for smugglers to be active, and I must meet with my men." He left her sitting quietly, her eyes on the dancing flames of the fire.

  So tonight smugglers would be active. She sighed. In this part of the country surely they were only men trying to feed their families? Times were hard, and it was said many a child cried themselves to sleep on an empty stomach. Cecy well knew, and thought Randall turned a blind eye to the basket Mrs. Batting left the house with each morning. Filled with the leftovers from the day before, it saved many a child from going too hungry. Cecy had taken to ordering too much for each meal, happy to think she was able to help her neighbors in some small way. Whilst every day was a struggle for so many it was no wonder some turned to illegal activities to survive.

  As much as she loved her brother, she could only hope and pray his task that night was not successful. With another sigh, she left the room and made her way to her bedchamber. She looked at the double-ended glove mender and the darning mushroom Randall had given to her with a quiet, "Perhaps these will stand you in good stead until I find the perfect jade for you." They were adequate as a stand-in for a firm cock, but as she well knew, once a cock had been enjoyed, nothing else was ever as good. With a determination she didn't realize she had, she turned away from her sewing drawer, undressed and got in
to bed. She may be unconventional and a rebel, but she had to curb her enthusiasm. Perhaps it was as well she had a lot that occupied her mind other than the joy of satisfying her carnal needs?

  To dream of a man with eyes so dark they were the color of a midnight sky, and feel him leaning over her, whispering her name, stroking her brow and holding her. Someone—something—else also, so nebulous that try as she might strive to discover what held her in thrall, she couldn't.

  She woke early, wisps of her dream chasing through her mind, and looked out of the uncurtained window. Ever since she was a young girl, Cecy liked to see the moonlight shining into the room, and watch the shadows as clouds chased across the sky. It was so early, the sun had yet to rise over the far shore, and the river was low, the water silver in the half-light, the mudflat gleaming and dark. The sky held a promise of a fine autumn morning, and she ached to be out and watch the day begin. With a spurt of restless energy, she pushed back the bedclothes and went to the ewer. The water was cold but she ignored the chill and washed briskly before dressing. Her maid would arrive later in the week, once the servant's accommodation was finished, but until then she had perforce, and to her delight, to dress simply and accept no invitations. If indeed any were forthcoming. Perhaps her reputation had gone before her, and she would be shunned? To her amazement the thought caused her no discomfiture at all.

  With one last look at the view Cecy began her day.

  That and the days that followed stuck to a mundane pattern. She saw little of Randall. She discovered the village and made herself known to the shopkeepers, and arranged for provisions. She visited the river beach, and watched the men fish, rowing their boats out in an arc to drop their nets and then dragging them in hand over hand from the shore. Most people were polite, a few friendly, and a very small few downright hostile to her. Those she put down to Randall's occupation, and she chose to ignore their attitude.