Nicholas spent most of the journey home replaying his stolen kiss with Cecilia in the library. Her lips were a beautiful, berry red color, and they had been warm and soft against his own. He imagined kissing them again—not quickly this time, but slowly and sensually.
He imagined pressing her warm body against his own and kissing her deeply, possessively. In his mind, Cecilia responded eagerly to his touch, opening her mouth to his. He imagined a low moan escaping her as she pressed her body eagerly against his.
* * *
That evening, Cecilia sat down to dinner with her father and Archie. Mrs. Williams had prepared shepherd’s pie, which was usually one of Cecilia’s favorite dishes, but tonight she was not hungry. In an effort to spare Mrs. Williams’ feelings, she ate a few bites of her dinner without really tasting them.
Her father and Archie were discussing the supplies that Archie had purchased in town earlier that day.
“We were quite lucky that Cecilia was able to negotiate a discount on the supplies with the blacksmith,” Archie was saying. “We should have enough nails and brackets to complete this whole project now without further stretching the budget.”
“Excellent work, Cece!” Her father said, smiling at her.
Cecilia looked up from her plate and tried to smile back at him. She knew that her anxiety likely showed on her face, but she tried her best to hide it. Her father seemed not to notice, but Archie looked at her with a worried expression.
“Is everything all right, Cecilia?” Archie asked her, sounding concerned.
“Yes, quite all right!” she said in a falsely-bright voice. “I’m quite tired, is all. I think that I shall go up to bed shortly.”
“All right,” Archie said, still sounding concerned, “I hope you feel more rested in the morning.”
“Thank you, Archie, I’m sure that I will,” she said. “Good night, Mrs. Williams, good night, Papa.”
* * *
Cecilia maintained her composure until she had made it to the bed room and closed the door. As soon as the door had closed, she threw herself down on her bed and began to cry. She took care to muffle her sobs so that no one would be able to hear her from outside of her room.
When she finally calmed down, Cecilia was unsure how much time had passed. There were still several inches of candle remaining, and she knew that she would not be able to sleep if she closed her eyes now.
Cecilia stood up from the bed, wiping the tears from her face. She walked to her writing desk and removed paper, quill and ink.
Dear Mama,
Last week I was the happiest I had ever been after my meeting with Nicholas. We revealed our feelings to one another and spoke of the future, of marriage! Something I never expected or even wanted, but now I find that the thought of losing the possibility fills me with dread.
Since my meeting with Nicholas I have thought of little else. I have focused on my work as much as possible to ensure that it was done properly, but every spare moment has been devoted to thoughts of Nicholas—to the memory of the kiss we shared. I know that it was improper of us to kiss, but I did not care. My heart races at the very thought of it.
I suppose it would be quite strange to share any more details of that encounter with my mother. As I understand it, mothers are typically not eager to know the details of their daughters’ romantic lives. But I do wish that you were here to discuss it with me.
The Duchess came to the shop today. She had pieced the story together somehow, and knew that Nicholas and I have fallen in love. She will never approve of our union, and she insists that Nicholas will marry the daughter of the Earl of Leicester.
I do not wish to believe it, but I fear that she is right. I am not fit to be the wife of a Marquess. How can I ever hope to be a Duchess? I am the daughter of a carpenter! And I love Papa, and I love my work. This is what I will do for the rest of my life, and it is not right that I should expect or hope for anything more.
I do not know when I shall see Nicholas next, but I must tell him that this cannot continue. It has been merely a fantasy for both of us. The sooner we can both recognize that, the happier we will be.
Your Loving Daughter,
Cece
Chapter 18
Two days had passed before Nicholas was prepared to speak to his mother. He had taken his meals in silence, with Isobel filling the gaps in conversation, but he knew that this could not go on any longer.
Nicholas knocked on the door of his mother’s study, and walked inside when he heard her say “enter.”
“Mother,” his voice took on a formal tone, “may I speak to you?”
“Of course, Nicholas,” his mother said, “please come in and sit. You can always speak to me about anything.”
“Can I?” he asked, and then thinking better of it, he continued, “I’m sorry, please do not answer that, I know that I can speak to you about anything. But today I want to speak to you about Miss Baxter, and I understand that you are not likely to be pleased by the subject matter.”
The Duchess sighed deeply, and gestured to indicate that Nicholas should continue.
“I know that you do not approve of a romance with Miss Baxter, but I love her, Mother.”
“Oh, Nicholas, I’m sure that you believe that.” Her voice sounded almost pitying.
“Of course, I believe it!” Nicholas said, allowing his frustration to show. “I believe it, because it is true!”
“All right,” said the Duchess, that note of pity still in her voice. “You love her. I understand, she is quite beautiful, but beauty is not the only consideration.”
“I know all of this, Mother,” Nicholas said through gritted teeth. “You have made your views of the matter very plain. But I must assure you that I do not love Miss Baxter solely for her considerable beauty. She is also kind, and clever, and passionate.”
“And those are all very fine qualities for a person to possess,” his mother replied, “but I fail to see what any of this has to do with her suitability to be your wife.”
“You are right, Mother, the only thing that makes her truly qualified to be my wife, is that I have fallen in love with her, and she with me,” Nicholas said, his voice quiet. “But kindness, cleverness, and passion, will make her an excellent Duchess when the time eventually comes.”
“Nicholas,” his mother replied, sounding exasperated, “it is not my wish to fight with you. Especially not right now when we are preparing for Isobel’s debut. Can we please place any decisions about this on hold until after that, at least?”
Nicholas sighed deeply. “You should know, Mother, that I am not apt to change my mind on this matter, but yes, we can postpone any official announcement until after Isobel’s debut. In fact, I had planned to wait until then to speak to you anyway.”
“But you failed to be discreet, and I realized what was happening earlier than you had planned”
“Yes, because you are extremely clever, just like Miss Baxter.”
With these words, Nicholas stood up, straightened his neck cloth, and walked to the door. Before leaving, he turned to his mother and said, “Cleverness is a highly important quality in a Duchess.”
He thought that he saw a hint of a smile flicker across his mother’s lips at these words, but a second later is was gone, and Nicholas wondered whether it had ever been there at all.
* * *
Cecilia stifled a yawn. She had slept fitfully after her meeting with the Duchess of Huxley, and had quit her bed well before the sun had made an appearance in the sky. At the time her mind had raced with thoughts of Nicholas and her future, or rather lack thereof, with him. Now that she needed to be alert and focused on her work, her mind was tired and sluggish.
What a cruel joke that our minds act of their own accord and refuse to follow our directions. Surely it is easier for animals who merely follow their instincts.
Willing herself to focus, Cecilia turned her attention to the panels she had cut and was now sanding. These would become the bookcase that had s
tarted all of this trouble. If not for this bookcase, I would never have met Nicholas.
In spite of the difficulty she now faced with the Duchess, in spite of the pain of her broken heart, Cecilia could not bring herself to regret the task she had been assigned. It was an intriguing problem that had occupied her mind in a way she enjoyed. But even more importantly than that, it had led her to Nicholas, and although she knew that they could not be together, she felt joy at the thought of him in addition to the pain of losing him.
“Is everything all right, Cecilia?” Archie asked her from across the room.
“Oh,” she said, surprised to be spoken to while working, “I’m fine, Archie, why do you ask?”
“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” he said, sounding concerned, “you seem tired.”
“I suppose I am tired, I didn’t sleep very well last night,” she admitted, turning to face Archie.
His face showed genuine worry for her wellbeing. Archie pulled up a bench and gestured for Cecilia to sit down. When she did, he asked, “Does this have anything to do with the Duchess’ visit yesterday?”
“How do you know that the Duchess was here yesterday?” Cecilia asked, confused because Archie had not been present for the encounter.
“Your father told me that she had been here to discuss some details of her wardrobe with you,” he said. “I know that she can be quite intimidating, so I wondered if she had made you upset.”
Cecilia paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. Archie had always supported her, and she trusted him to keep her confidence. And, after all, there is little to tell since it is clear that the engagement cannot proceed.
“She asked Papa to leave the workshop so that she could discuss her wardrobe with me, but that was only a pretense,” Cecilia began. “In fact, she wanted to discuss her son.”
“She wanted to discuss the Marquess of Clive? Why?”
“Oh Archie, isn’t it obvious?” Cecilia asked, not wanting to say the words aloud.
“Did she learn of your feelings for one another? How could she have?”
“I suppose we were not as discreet as we ought to have been. She noticed us talking in the workshop when the Marquess came with her for a visit, and then the servants told her that I came to the manor. I suppose she just pieced it together from there.”
As she spoke, Cecilia felt the familiar pressure building behind her eyes. She willed herself not to shed a tear. Archie had not seen her cry since she was a little girl. He had been kind to her then, but she still worried that he would think her weak if it happened now.
“I am sorry, Cecilia” Archie said quietly, sitting down next to her.
“It is not your fault,” she replied, stoically.
Archie gave a small smile, “That is true, but I am still sorry this has happened.”
“Thank you, Archie,” Cecilia said. She returned his smile with her own, though sadness still lingered in her eyes.
“What did the Duchess of Huxley actually say to you?” Archie asked, and then quickly added, “If you would not mind telling me.”
“Oh, I suppose I might as well,” Cecilia said with a sigh. “Nothing she said will come as a surprise to you, I am sure. She said that I am not fit to be the Marquess’ wife—that I will never be fit to be a Duchess. She said that he must marry someone called Lady Annette, the daughter of an Earl, and that is the only way for him to fulfill his obligations to his family and his country.”
“Well, I think she has rather a high opinion of her son’s importance to the country. And more importantly, I think she is very wrong about you.”
“What do you mean, Archie?”
“Cecilia, you are fit to do absolutely anything that you hope to do. If you hope to be a Duchess, then you are fit to be a Duchess.”
Cecilia merely laughed at this. She appreciated Archie’s belief in her abilities, but the more she had thought about her meeting with the current Duchess, the more she had come to accept that she could not fill the role.
“The question is, do you want to be a Duchess?” Archie went on. “In truth, I can’t see why anyone would want to. It seems dreadfully dull, if you ask me.”
“Well, being a Duchess isn’t really the point,” Cecilia replied, “if I were to marry the Marquess, it would be because I love him, not because of a title I might someday acquire.”
“In that case,” Archie said firmly, “it is not a question of your worthiness to be a Duchess, nor of your worthiness to marry the Marquess of Clive. You are perfectly worthy of both of those things, if you desire them.”
“You flatter me,” Cecilia began to say, but Archie continued talking.
“It is a question, rather, of whether the Marquess of Clive is worthy of marrying you.”
At this, Cecilia smiled in truth and began to laugh in earnest. Is the Marquess of Clive worthy of marrying me? Is he worthy of marrying a carpenter’s daughter? He is obviously worthy of much more than that!
“What is so funny?” His tone was playful, and he began to laugh as well.
Between giggles, Cecilia managed to say “Oh, Archie, you do know how to make me feel better! Thank you for that!”
Archie smiled at Cecilia, stood up from the bench, and made an ostentatious mock bow to her, “My Lady,” he said in a fair imitation of an aristocratic accent, “would you do me the honor of returning to work with me?”
Cecilia continued to laugh, stood from the bench and made a deep mock curtsey before returning to her work bench.
Chapter 19
Nicholas sat, brooding, in the drawing room. He could not decide what he ought to do next. He could not stop thinking about Cecilia, and he could not imagine spending his life with anyone else. I shall marry her, whether Mother approves of it or not.
He was trying to decide whether he should go to see Cecilia right away, or wait a few days to let his mother’s temper cool. As he considered the possibilities, the butler entered the drawing room and announced “Lady Annette has come to see you, My Lord. Shall I show her in?”
Nicholas looked up in surprise, “Yes, thank you Campbell.”
“She requested to see Lady Isobel as well, shall I go and fetch her?”
“Oh,” Nicholas said, intrigued by this request, “certainly. And please have some tea sent in as well.”
Campbell left the room, and Nicholas wondered what the purpose of this meeting could possibly be. A moment later, Lady Annette entered the drawing room with her maid.
“Lady Annette!” Nicholas said. “This is a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You have been so kind as to call on me twice, now, My Lord,” she replied. “I merely thought I should return the favor. And I hoped to see Lady Isobel as well, it has been quite some time since we last met.”
Nicholas smiled at Lady Annette and invited her to take a seat in the drawing room. They did not have to wait long before Lady Isobel entered the room, and the tea arrived shortly thereafter.
“Lady Annette, how lovely to see you again!” Lady Isobel said, upon entering the room. “Now that all three of us are here, perhaps your maid would like to go to the kitchen and have some refreshment there?”
Lady Annette exchanged a brief look with Lady Isobel, that seemed to Nicholas to be filled with silent understanding. “Yes, of course. Johnson, why don’t you do as Lady Isobel suggests and go to the kitchen?”
“Yes, My Lady.” The maid quietly curtsied and left the room.
“Why do I have the feeling that the two of you planned this meeting in advance?” Nicholas asked, arching his eyebrow.
Lady Annette gave him a coy smile, and his sister said, “Oh, I suppose I never could fool you.”
“What, exactly, is happening here?” Nicholas could only wonder what the two ladies were up to.
“Well, My Lord,” said Lady Annette, looking from him to Lady Isobel, “as it turns out, your sister and I have not seen one another for some time, but we have been regular correspondents for many years now.�
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Nicholas looked back and forth between his sister and Lady Annette, feeling utterly confused.
“All right,” he said, “I still don’t see how that explains this meeting. What does your regular correspondence have to do with me?”
Lady Isobel rolled her eyes at her brother and addressed Lady Annette, “Of course, he assumes that our correspondence has to do with him!” she said, with a note of sarcasm in her voice.
The Marquess In Her Bed (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 14
