“What a bother,” Lady Judith said. “Rest assured, my lady’s maid can clean it. Tomkins can perform wonders. She’s removed a number of stains such as those over the years. I can send her to you directly.”
Lady Vincent still looked quite aggrieved as she held the squirming child by his wrist in her tight grip. “Are you certain? My new girl isn’t quite as talented as the last one.”
“Absolutely. We’ll go see her now.”
Lady Vincent dropped the boy’s wrist without even glancing at him and joined Lady Judith as they headed for the door.
When they brushed past Devin, he frowned and shot Cecilia a quizzical glance.
She ignored him.
“I didn’t mean it,” the little boy whispered. The tears streaming down his cheeks made her heart ache in sympathy.
“I know you didn’t, sweeting. It’s only a bit of chocolate. Everything will come out fine in the end. You’ll see.”
“Lady Vincent is angry. What if she tells Papa? I’ll get a thrashing. He might not let me have Christmas this year.” His little face screwed up as though he was about to howl in despair. “He said I wasn’t to— to— em-barr-ass him.” He enunciated the difficult word carefully.
Cecilia’s heart tightened. The poor little mite’s fear was similar to that of many of children she’d spoken with when visiting the orphanage. He seemed terrified of reprimand. “I’ll do what I can to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she said, hoping to calm him. “After all, a problem shared is a problem halved. What’s your name?”
“Douglas Marchcomb,” the boy said.
“I’m Lady Cecilia Paring.” She cupped the boy’s face with her hands and brushed away his tears. “I’m certain we’ll be good friends.”
She’d made him a promise. Now she needed to figure out how to keep it.
Lady Vincent surely couldn’t be swayed by her, of all people. At the moment, she and this child were among the woman’s least favorite people in the world. Were she to intercede on the boy’s behalf and reveal her concerns, the cold-hearted woman would gleefully inform his father, if only to spite her.
She glanced up and noticed that Devin was still watching her. Perhaps he could help.
First things first, though.
She lifted the boy into her arms. “I happen to be holding the very last cornucopia.” She held it up for him to see. The red paper cone overflowed with sugared almonds and dried currants. “Do you think you could hang it from one of the boughs for me?”
He went still. “May I?”
“You certainly may.” She handed it to him. “Where would you like to put it?”
He examined the tree carefully and then pointed toward a bare spot just above her head. She stepped closer, and he reached up. As it turned out, affixing the decoration to the tree proved to be a challenging task for his five-year-old fingers, and for a moment she feared he’d spill it, but in the end, he managed the task.
She set him back down, and he scampered toward his sister. The little girl was standing next to a woman engaged in a conversation— probably her mother. It would appear that the entire sequence of events had gone unnoticed. Perhaps it would be easier to keep the story from Douglas’s father than she’d first feared.
When the boy tried to take his mother’s hand, she yanked it away and scowled at him. “Stop that,” she hissed.
Cecilia gasped in surprise. Couldn’t she see how upset her child was?
Douglas’s face crumpled, and he scurried out of the room
The boy might have regular meals and a warm bed, but a child needed more than that to thrive. He needed love and attention and encouragement.
Douglas’s mother returned to her conversation without missing a beat. Neither she nor the woman she was talking with spared the child a second glance.
Cecilia shook her head in dismay. She’d seen this sort of behavior too often in parents. Children sent off to be raised by servants. Warned that they were to be seen and not heard. She recalled that this was the sort of “appropriate behavior” Lady Vincent frequently praised. It was one of the many reasons Cecilia could never be the kind of woman Lady Vincent approved of.
It simply wasn’t in her nature.
She inhaled deeply, but her breath hitched. The heartache of watching Devin with Miss Glassford still pinched. That sharp arrow of pain had driven deep into her heart and wouldn’t soon mend.
She couldn’t be happy without him, but she also couldn’t be with a man who might so carelessly wound her again this way.
She weighed her choices and came to a decision. They needed to have a frank conversation and come to some sort of agreement with regard to their behavior and what they expected from one another. If he’d promise to change, she’d agree to marry him, but only if she believed him sincere in his promise.
Fortunately, Devin was nothing if not sincere.
She glanced at him. They needed to speak, but not here. Not now.
Later.
Cecilia turned to examine the tree. It was lovely, with red ribbons and cornucopias, silver ornaments, and small, pure white candles attached to the boughs. Later tonight, after dinner, servants would light the candles and then Lady Vincent would usher them all in to see it in its full glory.
It would be beautiful.
With a happy sigh of accomplishment, Cecilia exited the drawing room to return to her bedroom.
She’d only made it as far as the hallway when someone approached her from behind and took hold of her hand, pulling her into the nearby morning room.
Devin.
It would seem that the conversation she’d hoped to have later would instead take place right now.
She’d only ever been in this east-facing room when the sun was shining through the tall windows, but at twilight, the room was dark. Forlorn. Cold.
Her heart pounded as she faced him.
Devin stepped closer. “I could barely keep my eyes off you. This is why I didn’t write to you. Picturing you as I put pen to paper nearly devastated me. I hate living so far from you.”
Those words. Those perfect words. They took her breath away. Stole every thought from her mind. Turned her into a simpleton.
Devin let out a low groan that seemed to be ripped from the depths of his soul.
An instant later, he wrapped her in his arms and buried his face in her hair. The warmth of his embrace drove away the chill of the vacant room.
He kissed her neck, her ear, her cheek.
Her mouth.
She was a fool. A weak-minded fool.
She wrapped her arms around him, needing his solid support to keep her from falling. But she fell anyway. Fell into him. Into this kiss.
This afternoon, she’d believed a moment like this would never happen again. When she’d broken things off, she’d been convinced he’d never again hold her in his arms. Never kiss her. Never whisper her name.
“Cecilia,” he murmured.
She trembled as a bittersweet jolt of pain, loss, pleasure, and relief washed through her. Feelings overwhelmed her. Tears welled in her eyes.
He wanted her.
Did he also mean to change? Would he be the man she needed him to be, or did he plan to continue taking her for granted?
She should stand her ground.
She should hold him accountable.
But not right now.
Right now, she should simply enjoy this kiss. This one, perfect kiss. This moment filled with loss and longing and desire.
A woman delicately cleared her throat near the open doorway, and Cecilia and Devin sprang apart.
9
The change was too abrupt. Devin’s suddenly empty arms ached to pull her back, but instead he turned to face this new threat and stepped to block Cecilia from view.
In the open doorway stood Lady Evangeline and Lady Elizabeth. For some reason, Lady Elizabeth had one hand covering her eyes. Relief rushed through him, but it only offered a momentary reprieve. As he recalled, Lady Elizabeth loved nothing more t
han to collect tidbits of gossip.
She seemed to live for it.
Devin stared at the little vixen. The girl’s— young woman’s?— hair cascaded in a riotous tumble of black curls down her back. At this moment, she looked closer to Lady Evangeline’s age than Cecilia’s, even though she and Cecilia been born just months apart. The fact that she currently held one hand clamped over her eyes only served to make her appear younger, like a child playing hide-and-seek. He fully expected her to start counting aloud at any moment.
“Oh, my, Evangeline,” Lady Elizabeth declared in a stilted, playful tone, “I believe I’ve been afflicted by a sudden bout of blindness.”
Lady Evangeline rolled her eyes as she pulled Lady Elizabeth’s hand from her eyes. “It’s safe now.” She shot Devin a knowing glance. “And can I say, it’s about time. You nearly broke my sister’s heart with your thoughtlessness. You really should have written to her.”
Relief made him lightheaded.
Cecilia stepped out from behind him. “Were you looking for me?”
Lady Evangeline waved away the question. “We were sneaking around, spying. You’d be shocked at the goings-on in a country house.”
Lady Elizabeth’s green eyes seemed to sparkle with delight. “We just found Mr. Glassford flirting shamelessly with one of your mother’s chambermaids. He had her backed against the wall.”
“Did you?” Devin would need to make sure his mother didn’t learn about that, or the girl would find herself out of a job and with no references. “I’ll take care of that.”
Lady Elizabeth lifted her chin. “How?”
“I’ll make sure she stays below stairs for a few days.”
“That might not work. He caught her near the entrance to the kitchen. We’d gone down to pinch more gingerbread when we saw them.”
“I’ll warn Cook and Mrs. Rumsey about him.” The housekeeper kept tight control over the household. She wouldn’t permit a guest below stairs. “If they don’t think they can protect her, I’ll arrange to have her spend time with her family until Mr. Glassford is no longer here.”
Lady Elizabeth paused. The flash of knowing in her expression made her suddenly appear older than Cecilia rather than younger. “You do that.” Her gaze flickered toward Cecilia. “I think you should also spend time worrying about the reputation of someone much dearer to you.” She turned and left, pulling Lady Evangeline in her wake.
Where had Lady Elizabeth gained such hard-edged knowledge of the world? From her incessant spying?
Cecilia lifted one of her soft, pale hands toward his chest. It didn’t end in a caress though. Instead, she pushed him to one side and moved into the doorway.
She glanced down the hallway before whirling to face him. “You can’t simply pull me into your arms and start kissing me like that. I’m not yours. Not anymore.”
He stared at her, confused. “I thought we’d mended things.”
She stared at him as though he were an imbecile. “You apologized. That’s the first step. I forgive you, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how you took me for granted and wounded me with your disregard. If you truly want me for your wife, you’ll need to win me back. Promise me you’ll change, and then prove it to me.”
Devin rocked back on his heels. The deep pain in her eyes left him convinced of her resolve. “I promise. I do,” he managed to say.
He needed to get this next part right. Everything depended on it.
“You’re right,” he said, imbuing his words with every shred of sincerity he had. “What I did was callous and fundamentally disrespectful. I promise I’ll never do anything like that again. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Let’s begin again.”
She stilled, and then her expression softened. “That’s a good beginning.” She stepped into the hallway. “Walk with me.”
10
Devin kept pace with Cecilia as they slowly walked down the hallway toward the foyer. He wanted to stretch out this time alone with her.
As the sun’s last light faded, the glow of the moon shone through a window at the end of the corridor.
A footman entered the hallway carrying a lighted taper. He stopped at a lamp in a niche and used the taper to light it, then moved on to the next one.
Cecilia paused to watch the man, but she looked distracted, as though she wasn’t really seeing him. Devin was thankful for her hesitation because it gave him a few more moments with her.
Her gown appeared white in the gloom, but as the footman lit the lamps, the golden light brought color back to the world. To her hair, her eyes, her pink gown, and especially to her luminous skin.
“For some reason, seeing you in this light has reminded me of the Christmas when you and your friends dressed in Grecian robes and performed a pantomime,” he said.
“That was only three years ago.”
“Three years? It seems longer. As I recall, Lady Elizabeth’s friend Catherine seemed upset with the goddess you chose to portray.”
Her eyes flickered with delight in the golden light. “That’s because she was being pedantic. My goddess wasn’t Grecian, but Roman, and she disapproved. I wanted to be the goddess of justice. Iustitia. I was adamant. I had to be Iustitia. You know how stubborn I can be. Justice is an important concept to me, one that is too often overlooked.”
“You know I agree with you. Justice is the cornerstone of modern government.”
“One that we don’t seem to be able to apply fairly.” She sighed. “I’ve seen too much of it firsthand. I mentioned to you in my letters that I’ve been visiting the orphanages right here in our own county. Our justice system simply ignores them and leaves them as prey for anyone bigger and stronger to gobble up.”
The footman disappeared into the main salon, so Cecilia started walking toward the foyer once again.
“I admire you for doing what you can to help,” Devin said. Her words helped him see her in a different light, and he suddenly realized he’d never written back to her concerning her visits.
She was right. He should have.
He’d been taking her for granted. “I hadn’t realized your mother was still visiting the orphanages. They must be taxing for her, given her state of health.”
“I admit, she isn’t always well enough to join me.”
Concern for her safety sent prickles of tension down his spine. “Do you sometimes go alone?”
She shrugged. “Occasionally. I hope Evangeline will be able to accompany me soon. She’s nearly fifteen.”
“I don’t like the idea of you going there on your own. What are you doing to guard your safety?”
She gave him a sidelong glance that he couldn’t read. “I keep a strong footman with me, usually two. Plus the coachman. They ensure that I always leave for home at least an hour before sunset. They’re quite conscientious.” She cleared her throat. “You’d know that if you’d bothered to correspond with me.”
A knot of tension in Devin’s shoulders unwound itself, and he nodded. He’d deserved that rebuke. “That’s reasonable. Promise me you’ll continue to be careful. I know this county isn’t as dangerous as London, but it still has its disreputable areas.” He hesitated. “I’m aware that your father’s situation has changed. Will that affect your ability to help the orphans?”
She glanced away. “Somewhat. I’m still able to help with placing a few of the older girls as kitchen help or shop girls, depending on their experience and level of education. I wish I could do more.”
“I can help with that. I have connections with some of the counting houses near here. They’re always looking for clever boys who are good with numbers.”
“Oh, Devin, that would be marvelous. Would you?”
Her enthusiasm felt like a balm on his agitated emotions. “Of course.” He’d do anything for her if it made her look at him that way.
She touched his arm. “Perhaps you can help me with another problem as well.” She told him about the little boy— Douglas Marchcomb— the one he’d
seen run across the room and soil his mother’s dress. When she explained the child’s fear of losing Christmas for the thoughtless deed, he finally understood.
“You want me to intercede?”
“You know I can’t. If I were to approach your mother, I’d only make things worse.”
“Undoubtedly.” He gave her a knowing grin. “Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to save Christmas for Douglas.”
The smile that lit up her face was brighter than the moon shining through the window.
She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm just as they entered the foyer.
Lady Vincent swept down the staircase, and her eyes immediately locked on Cecilia’s pale hand against his dark jacket. She gave a sharp smile. “Devin. Just who I was looking for. I’m meeting your father in the library, and I’d like you to accompany me.”
Cecilia dropped his arm.
“It would be my pleasure,” he lied.
11
Cecilia continued toward the staircase as Devin’s mother joined him and started whispering in his ear.
Cecilia slowly climbed the stairs as she strained to hear if Lady Vincent might be complaining about young Douglas, but try as she might, she couldn’t make out a single word. Lady Vincent kept her head close to Devin’s as she steered him toward the hallway.
As she watched Devin leave, doubts about him still plagued her.
Could he change?
She wasn’t certain. People rarely changed due to an outside force. They only did so if they decided it was in their own best interest. At least, that’s what her mother always told her. “Cecilia, don’t expect to marry an attractive man and then fix him,” her mother had once said. “The shortcomings he has at the beginning of the relationship are the same ones that will sour it a few years down the road. Decide if you’ll be able to bear living with him if he never changes, because I can promise you, those faults will only become amplified throughout his life.”
Lady Cecilia Is Cordially Disinvited For Christmas Page 6
