Trimmed in Blue

by Sandra Sookoo

  “My apologies.” Cecil stepped backward, his hands raised. “I want you to be fully protected and prepared.”

  “Noted, but for the time being, I don’t enjoy being surprised.” She threw another punch but missed him. His return volley bussed her cheek. “Arse.” Another one of her swings connected with his glove, but the rest missed. She blew out a frustrated breath. “Damn it.”

  “Hold.” Cecil dropped his hands. “What makes you angry, Louisa? What hasn’t been healed? Use those emotions. Channel them and summon them if you must but let them fuel you. At times of crisis, they might be the only things that propel you forward.”

  “Is that what you do during a fight?”

  “At times.”

  “Does it help after the match is over?”

  “Not always, but that’s where your power lies. Take it back. Stop letting men steal it. Use your power and fight for what you want.” The encouragement in his voice soothed the tangle of her emotions.

  “Right.” Fired up, Louisa quickly launched herself at him. She got off an uppercut to his chin but missed the second time. He returned with punches of his own, tagging both her cheeks.

  “Damn your eyes, Cecil,” she hissed as her ire with herself grew.

  “Keep going.” He circled her. Sweat trickled from one temple. “Flow into the rhythm of the fight.”

  She threw a punch again. This time she connected with his flat abdomen. More’s the pity he wore too many clothes today that covered his mouth-watering form.

  He retreated with a faint grin. “Good. Impressive.” As blows were exchanged and the slap of leather on leather blended with their grunts and throaty utterances, he talked to her. “I was much like Jonas at his age. Bullied by older boys and my brothers.”

  “You told me, but not why you were in their line of fire.” One of her gloves slid over his cheek.

  “I’ve always had a compassionate nature. Helping others below my station doesn’t sit well with some.” He ducked her next punch. “Which made me a target.”

  The knowledge buzzed through her head. He’d never stopped helping others. “How did you survive?” The exercise left her panting with sweat sticking the shirt to her back.

  “I learned how to scrap and defend myself out of necessity, not merely for me but for those I protected.” Cecil tagged a glove into her midsection. He grunted when she gasped. “It put the bullies on notice and kept them at bay. Bigger ones came as the years rolled on. As did the causes I found to champion, as Samuel puts it.”

  Louisa gave him a tight grin. “You are a champion.”

  “Perhaps. I dealt with all the opposition the best I could until I’d developed a thick hide and a formidable reputation.”

  “Yet you never stopped being humble or noble.” Truly, he was so different than other men that it was laughable. “That was when you started going to Gentleman Jackson’s salon as an adult, right?” Her footwork was nearly as good as Cecil’s, for now it was he who struggled to match her movements.

  “Not exactly.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I went into the Navy. Did a stint in the war. Came home and opened my shop after certain... things. Those were what made me seek him out.”

  “Ah.” What he didn’t say was more powerful than his words. Louisa tried an uppercut, but Cecil bounded away, and the tip of her glove glanced along his jaw. “You fell in love, and I’ll wager the woman destroyed your heart and your trust.” It explained his reticence in sharing anything personal.

  Shock lined his face and reflected in his stormy eyes. “How could you possibly know that?”

  Her next swing caught him square on the jaw. Louisa snickered at the surprise in his expression. “I know enough by observing you. Spending time with you. Listening to what you won’t tell me.”

  “How interesting.” Cecil rolled his shoulders. “I thought I was better at keeping things close.” He drilled a fist into one of her palms.

  That connection and the power behind it sent her back a step. “To others, perhaps. When a man is as elusive as you, a man who won’t flirt with a woman, a different one in his past has broken him.” She shrugged. It was true enough, for each time she’d been in his company, he’d never once attempted to flirt. Aside from that nearly chaste kiss they’d exchanged, he’d treated her as... an equal. “That’s too bad.”

  “Why?” Frown lines creased his forehead.

  Heat stung her cheeks. “You’re a catch, and a good sight better than the cold, arrogant men in the ton who wish for breeders instead of a life partner.” A trace of bitterness clung to her words. She used that emotion to throw her next punch, which connected soundly with his glove.

  Good Lord that feels good.

  A hint of wonder entered his eyes, gone with his next blink. “Speaking of that, how goes your tricky waters with the viscount?”

  Her stomach pitched. “I’ve stalled him with false megrims and stomach upsets.” Which wasn’t far off the mark where the slimy toad was concerned. She threw another punch. The satisfying slap of leather met her ears. “I’d like to land his vile self a facer merely to see his nose broken.”

  “Good girl. Don’t ever give up your power.” Cecil’s stance relaxed slightly as he gawked at her.

  Louisa took the opportunity to swing again. This time her punch connected solidly to his cheek with enough force to spin him about. She giggled. “I guess I did need to channel that anger.”

  “You’ve done well with the lesson.” Pride reflected in his eyes.

  She beamed. “See? You are a great teacher.”

  “I’m not certain this qualifies.” But the corners of his mouth tipped in a grin.

  “I wouldn’t be here today if not for you. I’d say that’s a grand enough victory.” Louisa’s spirits and confidence soared. It was an extraordinary feeling. Then it grew and expanded into something unexplainable, but she owed it all to him. “You’ve changed everything. Thank you!” So exuberant was she that Louisa threw herself into his arms.

  “Argh!” The force of her movement sent him off-balance and he staggered backward but never recovered. They tumbled to the ground. “Oomph.” He landed heavily on his back and she on top of him, more or less straddling his waist, one padded mitten resting on his heaving chest.

  “Oh, my.” Her mood and the attitude subtly changed as she stared down into his face from her new perch. He was so solid beneath her; the heat of him seeped through her thin breeches to warm her legs. And she felt... strangely powerful in this position. Her pulse accelerated.

  Cecil watched her. Slowly, he tugged off one of his padded mittens and then the other, tossing them away. “Louisa?” Unnamed emotion graveled that one word.

  “Hmm?” Her throat grew dry. This was new and different. Never in the whole of her married life had she been given the chance to straddle a man, let alone ride him during coupling.

  His body tensed. Would he dump her off? “This is highly scandalous. If we’re caught...”

  “I care not for that.” She rid herself of her padded mittens merely to run her palms up his chest. It wasn’t the same as imagining feeling his naked skin beneath her palms, but it was exciting. Tingles played up and down her spine. Slowly, she leaned down as warning bells clanged in her head and kept going until their lips almost touched.

  “What are you doing?” Gently, he held onto her forearms. His eyes darkened into a smoky grayish blue filled with the same need pulsing through her veins.

  “I’m not sure,” she whispered back. Oh, he smelled so good. Citrus and herbs along with the sweat of hard work teased her nose. She breathed in the same time he expelled breath. Literally, they shared the same air as she investigated those intriguing blue pools. “Cecil?”

  “Yes?”

  “May I kiss you?”

  “God, yes.”

  Louisa stroked her fingers along his cheek. Bruises from his boxing match hadn’t faded all that much, each one a badge of honor—hard won and hard fought. As her heart pounded behind her ribcage, she c
losed the final few inches and kissed his lips.

  A shuddering sigh escaped him, but he made no other sound. Nor did he move. Instead, he waited and watched her, letting her to decide.

  She appreciated the fact he gave her the lead in this, and she took full advantage. While smoothing the hair back from his brow, she explored every inch of his lips, even the healing scab on the bottom one where it had been busted during the fight. Oh, he was heavenly, both hard and soft at the same time, and the faint bitterness of coffee clung to his mouth. Perhaps he’d indulged in a cup before coming out.

  Eventually, she pulled a bit away but continued to peer at him while her heart trembled as if on the verge of flight, and a curious need pulsed deep inside and between her thighs. “That was...”

  “Exactly.” Cecil slipped his palms up her arms then the sides of her neck until he finally cupped her face between his hands. When she sighed from the romance of it all, he kissed her back with more finesse and vigor than she’d given him. When he finished, he said, “Yes, it was that, exactly.”

  She smiled. “Should I let you up?”

  Mischief and wicked promise sparkled in his eyes. “You could unless you would like to continue kissing me.”

  A tickle of joy bubbled up through her chest. “There’s nothing I’d rather do at the moment.”

  “Good.” His whole body tensed as he wrapped his arms tight around her. Then he flipped them both over and pressed her into the cold ground with his weight on top of her. “Because this is a rather excellent idea.”

  She agreed with a tiny sigh, and as he claimed her lips, Louisa gave herself over to the whole experience. With her fingers buried in the hair at his nape, she encouraged him to kiss her soundly. Cecil was an intelligent man, for he’d understood her message and teased the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue. Oh, how utterly delicious and erotic that was! She gasped from the wonder of it, and when he slid that organ into her mouth to tangle with hers, she was lost on the heated sensations crashing into her.

  For the first time in a long while, fear had no hold over her. She held him in her arms and fully enjoyed each nuance of their embrace. When he shifted slightly, the insistent bulge of his arousal pressed into her thigh. She shivered in anticipation. What would coupling with this man of a hundred mysteries and surprises be like? Surely different than it had been with her husband, for they were different men. Cecil respected her, supported her, encouraged her. He genuinely wanted the best for her, and that meant... everything.

  The heat filling her body was bigger than the obvious desire she had for him. There was a brief sensation of falling, but he held her closer as if he knew or at least felt it too and wished to shield her from a crash. In his arms she finally knew peace and protection... and she wanted it to continue.

  But he wasn’t hers, and he’d said nothing about wishing to have another woman in his life regardless of the reason.

  Some of her ardor and serenity faded. She pulled away enough to break those long, drugging kisses that she’d adored. “We should go before someone finds us.”

  “I suppose.” But he didn’t move.

  “Cecil.” Louisa shoved at his shoulder. “I’d rather not have to outrun a constable on horseback.”

  “True.” He removed himself from her person and gained his feet quickly enough. When he extended a hand, she slid her fingers into his palm and squealed as he hauled her into a standing position. Then he stared at her. Shock and stupefaction fought for dominance on his face, but it was the dark unnamed emotion lurking deep in the depths of his stormy eyes that held her breathless. “In three days, my parents are holding an engagement ball for my second oldest brother.”

  “How lovely.” But her head was in the clouds, dancing, propelled by the wonder of his kisses and the exquisite freedom she’d accidentally found.

  “Louisa.” He squeezed her hand until her attention reverted to him. “Would you be willing to go with me?”

  Excitement buzzed at the base of her spine while butterflies pirouetted in her lower belly. “Truly?”

  “Yes.” The grin he gave her was lopsided and it tugged at her heart. “I never say things I don’t mean.”

  “I would like that very much.” How would she explain her absence to her mother?

  “Good.” Then worry entered his expression. “Will you be safe until then? I don’t like the thought of you being beneath the same roof as the baron any longer.”

  Why was that? But he didn’t further his explanation, and she didn’t ask for fear of hearing a rejection. “I shall make certain that I am. For I’ve learned how to channel my anger and my fear.”

  He nodded. “I’ll send word once plans have been finalized.” Then he busied himself with picking up the discarded bits of clothing.

  “I’ll look forward to it.” What was she to do once she had no more reason to be in his company? Why was it when she’d finally found a bit of happiness, it would fade away all too soon?

  The eventuality made her want to cry.

  Chapter Twelve

  November 7, 1818

  “I’m a damned fool, Samuel.” Cecil shoved his arms into his greatcoat. Earlier in the evening, he’d arrived at his best friend’s home, for Samuel had agreed to loan him his smart, new two-seat, closed carriage so that Cecil could call at the baron’s townhouse and retrieve Louisa.

  It would be the first ton event he’d taken a female to, let alone attended, in years.

  “No, you’re a hopeful fool.” Samuel grinned. “What brought about this decision?”

  “Uh, it was a spontaneous offer during a sparring session.” He tugged at his suddenly too-tight collar, and when his friend frowned, he let his hand drift to his side. It had been three days since the incident in Hyde Park where they’d spent several too-short minutes kissing. Despite the risk of potentially being seen in such a public place, he’d shared something... life-changing with her, and it had again rocked the foundations of his being with enough force to make the walls around his heart crack and break. “I thought she might enjoy the outing after all the horror she’s endured lately.”

  “Ah.” Samuel’s lips were curved in a grin as he studied Cecil. “Do you care for her? I ask because this is so out of character for you and your adamant vow to never let a woman close.”

  “Straight to the point, eh?” He didn’t answer immediately.

  His mind continued to reel from those kisses, of how much trust she’d given him to even do something like that in the first place... especially after he’d demonstrated how to perform the choke hold on her. He shifted his weight. The consummate pride he’d known when her punches landed correctly. That heart-stopping moment when Louisa had straddled him, and he’d watched the emotions cross her face as she’d decided her next course of action. She’d gone from caution to trust and finally to desire in the span of moments, and when she’d asked permission to kiss him? The remainder of his reserve crumbled into dust.

  Holding her in his arms, feeling her body against his... under his. Achieving a sense of dare he say homecoming? It would have been all too easy to use the interlude as an excuse for sex, but what they’d shared in that moment had been too sweet—too innocent—so... right.

  “Cecil?”

  “Hmm?” In some distraction, Cecil reached for his top hat and gloves that rested on a small round table nearby.

  “You didn’t answer my question, man. Must mean she’s a looker sans clothing.” Amusement echoed in Samuel’s lyrical voice as he gestured and made the form of a curvaceous woman with his hands. “Do you care for Miss Harcourt?”

  “I think I’m beginning to. And for the record, I’ve not seen her in any scandalous capacity.” Cecil met his friend’s twinkling gaze with a grin that felt all too goofy. “What do I do now? My last relationship failed miserably.”

  “Through no fault of your own.”

  “True, but I fell for her and my heart was shattered, wounded for far too long.”

  “You are healing tho
ugh, thanks to Miss Harcourt’s attention.”

  Was that what she’d done? Encouraged him to heal that old wound when he’d not realized it? “How can I take that risk again?” Cold wariness swamped him as effective as a bucket of ice water to the face. “I barely survived the last time.” If he put himself out there once more, he wanted it to succeed.

  But having feelings—confusing feelings—for a woman was much different than wanting to make a go of parson’s mousetrap.

  Samuel narrowed his eyes. “Miss Harcourt is hardly the same type of woman. She’s not exhibited a lust of money or a title. I think she has a heart of gold as well as a pure soul, but until she’s free from her tormentor, she won’t realize her full potential.” He looked at Cecil with speculation. “You’re the man for that job, to either free her or propel her into the new phase of her life. So, ask yourself this: are you strong enough for that? Because there is every reason to think that road might be bumpy and messy.”

  Cecil paused in the act of drawing on his second glove. “I’ll have to fight to be with her, won’t I?”

  “God knows.” Samuel’s shrug was eloquent and mysterious. “But you should prepare for that possibility. A tormentor won’t let go of their prey so easily.”

  Anxiety clawed at his insides. “Louisa said she’s not in danger.”

  “Perhaps she has too much pride to tell you the full scope of her issues.” Samuel pressed his lips together. “Or perhaps she wishes to keep you somewhat ignorant and thereby keep you safe.”

  Damn fool woman will get herself killed with that sort of thinking. His chest tightened with worry. “Or she’s protecting her brother.” Bloody hell. No, it wouldn’t be easy at all, but then, he preferred a challenge. “How can I win her but leave her brother behind? Legally, I can’t remove him too.” Without Louisa as his champion, what would become of the youth?

  “Cecil, you can’t save them all.” Samuel clasped his shoulder. “Do what you can and settle your immediate concerns. Only then can you reevaluate the others.”