Cecilia's Claim Read online

  "So be it, and I would expect nothing less. Although which brother I wonder? I rather think the stuffy idiot who is the heir would be more likely to say 'tis your bed, you lie on it." He winced; perhaps they were not the best choice of words. "However 'tis for both his benefit and my lord Randall's as well as ours that you obey. Now, we go through here, take care there may well be spiders." He opened the door wide, to let her precede him, ignoring her shudder and muttered oath.

  Cecy tapped him on his shoulder.

  "Are you deaf as well as stupid? I said, Monsieur Le Compte that this is no time to stand on ceremony. I would prefer you to precede me so any such arachnids find your face first. Otherwise you may well have a hysterical female on your hands. Snakes, beetles, flies, even mice and rats, I am au fait with. Spiders? No, no, no, and no."

  "If I go first, I will have to tie you to me," he warned, and then wondered what her answer would be. As usual it was not as one would expect from a lady of the ton.

  "Well 'tis better than being senseless, so…" She raised one eyebrow and then to his amazement she held her hands out to him. "Arm to arm? Or other areas? I am in your hands."

  It seemed Cecilia had hidden depths neither he nor Caleb knew about. Their previous meetings may have been satisfactory, but mild in the extreme. Not for the first time he wondered how things could have all gone so wrong. If she could exchange innuendo at a time like this, how was it that she wasn't prepared to experiment at all?

  "Your hand will do." Swiftly he took one slender wrist and used the thong he took from the pocket of his rough tweed jacket to bind it to his own wrist. "Is that comfortable?"

  Cecy giggled, a somewhat unexpected sound considering the circumstance. "Well, I could say I have had better uses for my hands, but yes it is as comfortable as I imagine it can be. What now?"

  Swiftly he bound both her wrists and tugged on the knots. The gasp she gave was not one of pain or indignation. Satisfied that there was no chance that they might slacken, he turned his back on her and grinned, happy with that soft noise of arousal. In the gloom there was no fear she would see his pleasure at her reaction.

  "Now we move. Give me one moment to light a candle. Hold on for I don't wish to spill wax on you, at least not in that manner." He ignored her outraged gasp. He was under no illusion just how unlikely that scenario was. The river would more than likely freeze over first, and it was tidal. It took less than a minute to scrape the tinderbox and put a taper to the candle. The flickering light cast deep shadows along the corridor, and he saw Cecy shudder.

  "I fancy I see spiders in every nook and cranny, and all places in between," she remarked as he towed her along the passage, holding the candle in his free hand. "And I am quivering in anticipation."

  He could think of better things to quiver over, but judged it was not the time to voice them. Without speaking he walked the fifty or so yards until they reached a recessed archway with an exit within. Philippe lifted the latch on the door and stood back, ever the gentleman. Did she brush close to him on purpose? Surely the entrance was not that narrow?

  He ignored her exaggerated shiver, and followed her into the antechamber.

  "If you stand still I can unfasten you."

  "That may well not be advisable. She has a decidedly dangerous attitude."

  The new voice had her head whipping round. Her hair fell from its neat bun and flew in all directions, some strands, plus a couple of hairpins teasing his cheeks. She pushed at the tresses in an impatient manner, as if she had better things to do than worry over something so insignificant.

  "You?" Never has such a small word been invested in such scorn.

  Philippe groaned. Now life was about to become so much more complicated.

  Chapter Four

  Cecy could hardly believe her eyes.

  "You." She spat the word out, even as she tugged at her ties in a futile gesture. It seemed they were made to withstand all efforts to undo them. "What are you doing here? You live in the wilds of Dartmoor."

  If Philippe was the last man she wished to see, the man who had spoken ran a very close second. Goose bumps ran up her spine. It would be difficult to separate her degree of discomfort over each by a hairs breath for both worried and confused her. Caleb Jefferies, Lord Haytor, the other man she would have been happy never to set eyes on again stood beside her. She looked from one immobile face to the other. Double trouble it seemed.

  The tingle of arousal she had felt was firmly squashed; the time for those intriguing ideas and actions was long gone. This was a time for action. She pushed her foot back hard and had the satisfaction of hearing a muffled yelp from Philippe. Good, though 'tis a pity I couldn't reach his bollocks. She swung the same foot in a swift arc, letting it lift and angle towards Caleb. He either had lightning reflexes, or was forewarned by her previous actions, because even as she moved, he caught her ankle and jerked hard. Cecy had no time to react. She felt herself falling and braced for the inevitable collision between her arse and the stone floor. Her fall was stopped. Equally as fast, Caleb swung her into his arms.

  "No more violence Cecy, or I swear I will be the one inflicting it. Not that I would call it violence, more justified chastisement, and believe me you'd be begging for more." His eyes glittered in the candlelight. "I also live here. If you remember, you denied us so why should you know all our secrets. Do I take it you wish to explore the pleasure of pain?"

  That is where he is wrong. It was no last time, it will be no again. Their ideas are too extreme. One of them was enough. Two together and their ideas is way beyond my orbit. Why did she have a feeling she was kidding herself? She shook her head, not wanting him to see how his words affected her.

  "Now, do you behave? Or do we keep you?"

  Trussed? Am I a goose for the oven? A goose certainly for venturing out so early. She had no doubt if she didn't give her word they would do as they threatened. Cecy took a deep breath.

  "I behave," she said in as even tone as she could manage, and then her temper got the better of her. "However once this, this whatever it is, is over I suggest you watch your bollocks. For if my brother does not blow them to smithereens, be sure I will."

  "Your brother," Caleb said in such a flat tone she was both shocked and perturbed, "would be better served keeping you out of trouble. Hang it Cecy, does he not know how dangerous this coast is? Well he must do, for he has been sent here. But to bring you was foolhardy in the extreme. There are people who would rejoice to have you as a bargaining tool. Does he not realize this?"

  All her anger left her.

  "He realizes," she said quietly. "But it seems I have blotted my copybook once too often for our brother and the ton's taste, and I am no longer deemed acceptable to polite society."

  She watched as Caleb's eyes widened. Behind her the hold that Philippe had on her arm tightened to a point of pain before it seemed he forced himself to relax.

  "Elucidate." Caleb's voice was terse, but Cecy could hear the underlying anger in it. "For what reason are you ostracized?"

  Ah here it is, the one thing I never thought to have to explain.

  "It seems that certain persons…identity unknown were observed leaving my home at an unacceptable hour. This on-dit was about to circulate within the ton. With good fortune my esteemed brother was able to scotch the rumors before they surfaced, but in his usual inestimable manner decreed my absence would be appreciated. Combined with my actions at Lady Gravesend's ball, and Almacks, I am considered to be beyond the pale. Hence my presence here."

  "From the frying pan to the fire?" Caleb said. "No matter, we will protect you. As far as we are able. However Randall needs to take care."

  The gall of the man. To say Randall needs to take care. Does he think they do not? With Randall ready to blow their balls off if they hurt me? Cecy thought perhaps it would not be politic to mention that fact.

  "Randall is well able to take care of himself, and of me, if in the unlikely scenario I am unable to do so myself." Cecy decided not t
o mention the humiliating events of that morning. To be caught and abducted in such an easy manner would not endear her to Randall. She could kick herself for not thinking to carry her pistol, but then who would expect to be abducted in such a manner? She was uneasily aware that her lack of a weapon would heap admonishment from Randall upon her when he found out.

  I should have remembered it. Randall was posted here to foil smugglers. I should have been alert. I have no one to blame but myself for his folly. To her chagrin Cecy was well aware that even if Randall returned to the house, her absence would not cause immediate alarm because he was used to her habit of taking long rambles. However if she hadn't returned by lunchtime, then he would worry. Cecy was not noted for missing meals; she enjoyed her food too much.

  She decided there was no further point in berating her fate, now was the time to reconnoiter. She glanced around the room, to see it clearly for the first time. No clock ticked out the minutes, and she had no idea how long it was since she had blithely wandered along the foreshore. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked rapidly. Crying was not helpful and not something she gave into with ease. She decided it was time to change tactics.

  "So gentlemen, what happens next?"

  Her feet were kicked from under her, and she felt somewhat light headed as Philippe—she assumed it was he—lifted her over his shoulder. How he managed whilst they were still bound she had no idea, but with her hands and one of his firmly squashed between them Cecy was helpless to do anything other than allow herself to be carried. To where she didn't know, but a very unromantic rumble from her tummy, made her hope it was to where she would be fed.

  Before she got her wits about her and realized her legs weren't fastened a firm hand gripped her ankles and Caleb spoke in a humorous voice.

  "I remember your predilection for using your feet."

  Argh, the bastard to remember that. I need to be less aware of them and more aware of my situation.

  "Although," he continued, "Then it was for pleasure. Now I fear it would be for something else." His fingers caressed the soft skin around her slender joint, and Cecy shivered as his touch sent tingles of pleasure through her.

  If his hands on my ankles can make my curls damp, what would his fingers elsewhere do to me once more? It seemed her senses hadn't forgotten the delight of his touch any more than her memory had.

  His laugh did nothing to help dampen her excitement. Deep and rumbling, it increased the shards of pleasure that bombarded her. How could she be so excited by so little? Was she so easily pleased? Her juices increased and Cecy squirmed against Philippe. The sharp tap to her behind did nothing to quench the heat that filled her; quite the opposite.

  Is it that I am a sad person to enjoy the sting of his hand so? How can this excite me when their suggestions all those months ago did not? But she wondered, had those suggestions been truly abhorrent, or was it the fear of the unknown that had her denying any relationship with them?

  She lifted her head to see here they were going, just to have it pushed down again in a firm and dominant manner.

  "Stop that." She froze in mid move.

  "You'll smack your head. That is not the part of your anatomy that would enjoy a spank, believe me there is time and enough for that. When…" Caleb's voice petered out.

  "When?" She couldn't help the gush of juice that dampened her thighs. Her voice was uneven and her pulse jumped as if it was a flea in a circus.

  Her query seemed destined to remain unanswered. A loud and repeated knock echoed throughout the house.

  "Hellfire and damnation." Philippe had the knots holding them together undone almost before he set her down. "Here," She found herself thrust at Caleb without ceremony. "You do as you think fit. I need to sort other things. Get her out of sight for all our sakes. Do as you must. I'll stall them."

  He didn't say who they were, but by the tone of his voice, Cecy guessed they weren't paying a friendly visit. The atmosphere was heavy. Cecy could only describe it a malevolent, and knew deep down, she was scared. Of whom or what, she had no idea.

  "What now?" To her disgust her voice shook. Caleb didn't offer any assurances. "I hide you and hope to hell I can get you away without your presence being noted. Come on." He pressed the ornate carving beside the fireplace, and pushed at the paneling.

  Cecilia felt no surprise as it opened and a dark space appeared behind it. To have seen the Whist Hounds of Dartmoor appear from within it would not have surprised her.

  The hammering of fists on wood sounded louder.

  "Move." She was through the gap and inside a tiny room with Caleb pressed tight to her arse before she had time to agree or not.

  Chapter Five

  Caleb closed the secret door behind them, and grit his teeth as his cock did a flag up a flagpole impression and then sprang to attention. Try as he might to resist he had to press tight up to Cecilia for a brief second, before he put his mouth close to her ear.

  "We need to be quiet. Although we have long decided this is as soundproof as can be, there is no need to push our luck. Philippe will stall for as long as he is able, but I need to get you away from here. Nod if you understand." He held her head in a light grip until he was aware it moved up and down.

  The relief he felt consumed him. The next few minutes were going to be difficult enough with Cecilia's acceptance of their circumstances. Without it, he would have very little hope of succeeding in effecting a safe getaway for her. Caleb put his finger over her lips. The hairs on his arms stood on edge, as almost without volition her tongue pushed between her lips and touched his digit in a soft swirl. If only he had time to take up her unconscious invitation. Instead he gave himself a brief taste of what he hoped was for the future and pressed his cock tight up against her arse. She wriggled, and let him rest there before he reluctantly broke the connection. Time to give his cock full rein later if… He stopped his speculation. If was a very little word with a very big meaning and that connotation he daren't speculate upon.

  Without speaking he held her around her waist and moved them forward. Caleb knew the room and stairs that led from it like the back of his hand. It had been his playroom, his bolt hole, and then his escape route for more years than he liked to remember. His grandfather had been firm but fair with everyone, not just him, and had warned Caleb there were many who did not subscribe to his way of thinking. Grandpapa Blevins had made sure a young Caleb was able to leave the manor as and when was needed. With a similar route at Moor Sentinel House Caleb was reasonably sure he could keep Cecy safe and well hidden. As they reached the bottom of the staircase he led her along another corridor until they came to a low door.

  "This takes us to the top of the hill." His voice was not much above a whisper. "We'll need to go over it, to where I have horses stabled. Then we'll get you away from here." He felt her stir, and once more placed his palm over her mouth.

  "Cecy, just for once, don't argue, let me take you to safety, and then explain. Please."

  She sighed, and her breath feathered over his skin like a soft and gentle breeze. "It seems I must, but then my lord I want explanations. And they had best be good, or I will make you wish your cock had never ever perked up in my presence."

  The inference is that it will never get the chance to do so in any shape or form again if my explanation does not hold water.

  Caleb chose not to answer, as he eased the door open. He didn't think anyone would be around, for the passageway had been created for situations such as the one they found themselves in. The door opened out into a small thicket on the side of the house away from the coast, but even so he wasn't prepared to take any chances. To his relief there was no sign of the telltale itch between his shoulder blades that had saved him on more than one occasion.

  As they emerged into the copse Cecy blinked. She looked around her, at the tangle of trees and the canopy of leaves over them, and the sunlight that filtered through to speckle the grass and bushes. A gentle breeze set the branches swaying and leaves dropped to the
ground like giant raindrops.

  Caleb realized how lucky he was with the site of his private exit. As autumn took a tighter grip, the trees would soon be bare, and many pathways ever more unsecure.

  That was immaterial now. Caleb watched the mass of emotions flicker over her expressive face. It seemed she appreciated the small glade ahead of them and the tiny stream that meandered through it. It was a place that always pleased him, indeed a place he and Philippe had spent many an hour in. No one could stumble upon it with ease as it was situated deep within his grounds, well away from any tracks or paths.

  "Are we safe here?" Cecy dropped her pelisse on the ground and stretched her arms above her head. The gesture emphasized her breasts, and they threatened to pop out over the top of her simple muslin gown. Caleb swallowed, and held his hands tight to his sides, to curb his inclination to touch and taste.

  She stared at him, with her dark green eyes, the irises of which were of a color he'd seen on no one else. Her head was cocked to one side, and one eyebrow rose in query. He realized he hadn't answered her question.

  "As safe as we can be. It's daylight, which could be a problem once we move away and onto the moor. However I am expected to be out and about during the day, so that is in our favor. Once your identity is known, that will not be in yours or Randall's. I still fail to understand why it was thought this was a good place to send you, when his job puts you in a position as a bargaining tool. Peregrine slipped up there. It seems he put image and position over your safety and in truth I'm amazed at his lack of forethought. Seriously Cecy, you'll have to leave the village. I'll take you to the moor, and get a message to Randall to say he needn't worry." He watched her and waited for a reaction. When it came it was not the one he expected.