Cecilia: A Regency Romance (Families of Dorset Book 3)

by Martha Keyes

  "I do not wish to be disturbed again, Anaïs," she said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the harshness from her voice.

  The door pushed open, and she stepped back, eyes wide at the disregard of her orders.

  But it was Lady Caroline whose head peeked through the gap, not Anaïs's.

  "I hope you will forgive me, Cecilia," she said with a smile, "as you know very well that I do just as I please. And today, it pleases me that you come out riding with me."

  Cecilia stared at Lady Caroline, incredulous. How could she be so dead to feeling that she arrived with no forewarning at all, smiling as though Cecilia's world wasn't falling apart before her very eyes?

  Seeing that Cecilia had no intention at all of moving, Lady Caroline squeezed into the bedroom, taking the bonnet and gloves Anaïs had left on the table and placing the bonnet squarely onto Cecilia's head.

  She looked Cecilia in the eye and put a hand on both of her shoulders. "I know you are hurting. And that is why you must come out with me." She grabbed Cecilia by the hand, pulling her toward the doorway, as if a carriage ride could somehow erase the bleakness of the future Cecilia saw gaping before her, inescapable.

  But she hadn't the energy to argue with the bold, flighty woman tugging her into the corridor and then down the stairway.

  The bustle of the town streets was oddly calming to Cecilia, as she sat silent, with Lady Caroline beside her, navigating the midday traffic.

  Lady Caroline looked over at her intermittently, finally saying, "What a lovely day this is, don't you think?" She glanced up at the sky, where soft clouds inched along with the light breeze.

  Cecilia followed suit. At least the weather would be good for the Channel crossing. Cecilia had never crossed over to France, nor did she ever seem likely to be able to, with the neverending war continuing on.

  The dome of St. Paul's appeared before them, towering above London. Cecilia hardly knew where Lady Caroline was taking them, nor did she care.

  Lady Caroline glanced at her and smiled. "You don’t look to be enjoying the ride. I have been told that I am a very skilled driver, you know, but perhaps we would do better to stretch our legs." She slowed the horses, bringing them to a halt in front of St. Paul's Cathedral.

  Cecilia sighed. "It has nothing to do with your driving, Lady Caroline."

  "And don't I know it?" Lady Caroline replied with a teasing smile.

  Cecilia's nostrils flared as she followed Lady Caroline down from the phaeton, using the mounting block below. If Lady Caroline thought that flippancy was the cure for Cecilia's pain, she was terribly wrong.

  Lady Caroline linked her arm with Cecilia's, guiding them toward the churchyard. She handed a thick, folded page to Cecilia. "I think you will find this of great interest."

  Cecilia frowned and then looked at Lady Caroline. "What is it?"

  Lady Caroline wagged her eyebrows. "Only what I have been working on tirelessly for the past few days." She stopped, looking ahead of her with a mischievous smile. "And I think there is someone who would very much like to read it with you."

  Cecilia glanced up ahead and froze. Sitting on a bench at the end of the walking path, the solitary person in the churchyard, was Jacques Levesque, hands clasped in his lap. Gone were the irons around his ankles and wrists.

  He rose slowly from his seat, his eyes trained on her.

  Cecilia's mouth hung open, blinking as though with each closing of her eyes, Jacques might disappear and prove that she was only hallucinating.

  But there was no mistaking the dirt marks on his face or the rumpled state of his clothing.

  Cecilia turned to Lady Caroline, who smiled gleefully and nodded toward Mr. Levesque. "Go," she said to Cecilia, giving her a push.

  It was a push she hardly needed.

  Picking up her skirt with the hand that held the folded paper, she rushed toward Jacques, matching his quick pace.

  And suddenly, Cecilia stopped, with only a foot between them, both of their chests heaving, his eyes scanning hers with an intensity that made Cecilia's head spin. And then, without a word, he took a last step toward her, taking her cheek in his hand and pulling her mouth to his in a way that made her legs feel feeble.

  All of the guilt, the pain, and the dashed hopes of the past week poured into the kiss, searing her lips and her heart until she could hardly bear it.

  She pulled back, unable to stand the mystery a moment longer. "How?" she said, immediately wishing to close the distance between them again.

  Jacques smiled down at her, the love in his eyes making her feel lightheaded again. "Lady Caroline," he said with a shrug.

  They both looked over to where Lady Caroline had been standing, but she was no longer there. She stood at the base of the cathedral with her hands clasped behind her back, looking up at the edifice as if nothing at all out of the ordinary was happening behind her.

  "What do you mean?" Cecilia said.

  "She arrived just as they were taking us to be transported to Dover. And"— he shrugged again, his eyes as uncomprehending as she felt—"she had a written pardon from the Prince Regent himself."

  Cecilia looked over to her friend, utterly awed. She had been so angry at Lady Caroline, feeling abandoned by the woman who shared some responsibility at least in the situation of the man she loved. And all the while, Caro had been working to ensure a happier outcome.

  "But Cecilia," he said, sending a thrill through her upon hearing her name on his lips, "I have nothing. No reputation to speak of, no right at all to ask you to marry me." He shook his head. "I..."

  "Well," she said, lifting her chin, "you have kissed me twice now, Jacques—once in public"— she made a showy gesture with the hand holding the folded paper, indicating the churchyard around them. "If you refuse to marry me, I am afraid that I will have to sue you for breach of promise."

  "What is that?" Jacques asked, indicating the paper in Cecilia's hand.

  "I don't know. Lady Caroline only said that we should read it together." She handed it to him, her hands still shaking slightly from the overwhelming emotion of the past few minutes.

  He opened the paper, and they stood side by side, staring at it together. Cecilia's hand came up to her mouth as Jacques read the words in a low and quick voice.

  In the name and on the behalf of His Majesty. George PR George the third etc. To all to whom these Presents shall come Greeting: Our Will and Pleasure is and We do hereby declare and ordain that from and after the date of this Our Warrant, Jacques Levesque shall be styled, entitled and called, "The Right Honorable Lord Honiton,” Baron of Honiton..."

  His eyes came up to meet hers, utter disbelief reflected there.

  "Letters patent," said Cecilia in awe.

  Jacques’s hand dropped to his side with the paper, and his eyes sought out Lady Caroline.

  She was turned toward them, a grand smile on her face, and she rushed over with quick, light footsteps.

  "Good day, Lord Honiton," she said, making a curtsy as she came upon them.

  "Lady Caroline," said Cecilia dazedly, "how in the world did you manage such a thing?"

  She shrugged lightly. "It was only a recounting to Prince George the various times you have come to my aid. And when I informed him that such an act on his part would anger the Marquis of Retsford to no end, it was settled, for he cannot abide the man, you know." She looked to Jacques—or Lord Honiton, rather. "You maintain control of your estate and all the money attached to it—in essence, you are in the same position you were a week ago, except that now you are a Baron”—she inclined her head, a twinkle in her eyes—“for which honor you will obviously have to pay dearly and appear before Parliament."

  Cecilia stared at her for a moment and then lunged toward her, wrapping her arms around Lady Caroline's petite figure in a crushing embrace.

  Lady Caroline returned it with gusto. "Did I not tell you," she said into Cecilia's ear, "that coming out on a ride with me would do you good?"

  Cecilia gave a watery chuckle. "Yo
u certainly did."

  She pulled away and turned back to Jacques. "What of your father?"

  Jacques was still recovering from shock, and he blinked before responding. "He is inside the church, thanking God for our deliverance, of course."

  Cecilia smiled. "Well, then. He is likely to be in there still for quite some time once he learns that his son has become a baron during his absence."

  Jacques laughed dazedly and then looked at Lady Caroline, his head moving from side to side as if he hadn't the words to match his feelings.

  She put up a hand to stop him. "Do not thank me, Lord Honiton. Consider it a step toward evening the scale of my debt to you."

  "And now," said Cecilia, nudging him with her elbow, "go give your father the most wonderful surprise of his life."

  Jacques looked down at her, his eyes bright and warm, and he took her hand in his. "Only if you come with me."

  She nodded, and he stooped down to press his lips to hers one more time—the first in a lifetime of such kisses.

  24

  Jacques looked around the park with a contented sigh, admiring the tranquility of the scene: leaves rustling lightly above, a cloud-streaked blue sky, and the woman he loved walking beside him, her arm intertwined with his. Mr. and Mrs. Galbraith walked a short distance behind them, granting them their privacy.

  The scene was idyllic. And yet he was ready to leave the town. "I think you will like Honiton, my love," he said.

  Cecilia glanced up at him with a teasing twinkle in her eye. "More than London? For I have always preferred the town to the country, you know."

  "Ah, but then you have never been to Honiton, have you?"

  "No, I have not." She smiled, inching closer to him. "Nor have I spent time in the country in the company of you."

  He made a clucking noise with his tongue and shook his head. "I am afraid that I am even duller in the country than I am in the town. The life you have shown me in town has shocked my sensibilities beyond repair. Prize fights, women dressing up as gentlemen, last-minute pardons"— he shook his head. "It is enough to inspire one with a desire to sit in the library reading for the rest of one's days and never again to venture from home."

  Cecilia slapped his arm playfully, and he winked at her.

  "But honestly," he said, "what would you say to skipping Brighton altogether and going directly to Honiton?"

  "I would say that I have had enough adventure this season to last me a few years at least."

  Carriage wheels sounded behind them, and Jacques glanced back in time to see Letty attempting to descend from the carriage before it had even come to a full stop.

  "It is them, Mama!"

  She ran over, and then stopped short, taking on a formal posture and then executing a deep curtsy. "Good morning, the Right Honorable Lord Honiton." She rose from the curtsy with an imperious smile until Jacques kicked at her playfully with a foot.

  "Have done, Letty," he said with a suppressed smile. He leaned in toward Cecilia. "Letty refuses to treat me with anything but a smothering degree of formality."

  Letty's mischievous smile appeared. "I should not wish to give offense by failing to display due deference—I understand you have powerful allies, my lord."

  A nudge in the ribs from Cecilia brought him around to look at her.

  "Up ahead," she said.

  The Marquess of Retsford was coming upon them, riding on horseback beside a young woman whose fiery red hair peeked from under her bonnet. Lord Retsford's jaw hung slightly open, his nostrils flared, his eyes alight with anger and chagrin.

  He slowed his horse, and the woman beside him followed suit.

  "Mr. Levesque," he said through clenched teeth and a false smile, "I did not anticipate the need to call for a constable during my ride at the park, and yet, finding you here, I think I must."

  "I believe," said Cecilia, in a voice of unalloyed charity, "that you must have meant to address yourself to Lord Honiton?"

  Lord Retsford scanned the three of them and then Aunt Emily and the Galbraith’s behind, as if he might see a previously unnoticed gentleman.

  "This," said Letty, indicating her cousin with a sweeping gesture, "is the Right Honorable Baron of Honiton."

  The marquess's eyes moved between them, and he shifted in his saddle, then emitted a forced laugh. "Is this some sort of jest?"

  "Not at all," said Cecilia. She turned to Jacques. "What was it? Two days ago when you received the letters patent from Prince George?"

  "Yes, I believe your memory serves you correctly, for it was two days ago as well that my father and I were released from Newgate at the Prince Regent's behest."

  He looked to the marquess and made a polite bow, forcing his expression into one of politeness to stifle the laugh which threatened to burst through at the confusion written on Lord Retsford's face.

  "If you will excuse us, Lord Retsford," said Cecilia with a small curtsy, as she pulled Jacques forward inexorably. Letty offered her own dignified curtsy before following along.

  They hadn't gone more than ten steps before Letty covered her mouth, giggling softly. "Oh, I would not have missed that for the world!" She clapped her hands in a gesture of excitement.

  "I admit," said Cecilia, "it was very satisfying to witness the marquess's confusion—to see him put in his place. And in front of that poor but beautiful soul he seems to now have latched onto."

  "That," said Letty with authority, "is Lady Rebecca Flinthook, widow of Sir Robin Flinthook, who recently died and left her with more money than she knows what to do with."

  "I hope that she captures his fancy," Cecilia said, "and quickly, for that matter." She looked up to Jacques with twinkling eyes. "I am sorry, Lord Honiton, but I don't think anything less than the marquess's marriage to another woman will convince my father to give up on the idea of a match between him and me."

  "I, too, hope he marries her," said Letty. "There have been some rumors that Lady Rebecca was connected with her husband's sudden demise, you know. And if that is true, then perhaps she will have enough compassion on society to rid us of her second husband, too!"

  Jacques tried to frown at Letty. She wasn't looking at him, though, but rather glancing behind them.

  "And now I am afraid that I must go," she said with a sigh, "for I only persuaded Mama to take us through the park in case we might happen upon you here, which I am ever so glad that we did! But she has promised to buy me new trimmings for a bonnet, and I fear that, the longer I make her wait, the fewer she will be willing to purchase."

  She hugged Cecilia and then made an exaggerated curtsy to Jacques, running off with a teasing grin tossed over her shoulder before he could kick dirt from the path toward her in retaliation.

  Cecilia watched her retreat with a smile and then looked ahead with a scoffing noise.

  "Good heavens," she said, "are we to meet the entirety of my family in the park today?"

  Tobias was riding toward them, flanked on either side by his friends. He slowed his horse as he came upon them.

  "In the park at the fashionable hour, Tobias?" said Cecilia in impressed accents. "How very unlike you."

  "Join us," said Jacques. He had the distinct impression that Tobias Cosgrove could do with a change of company––the friends he was often seen among were as likely to get him in trouble with the constable as anything else.

  Tobias chuckled. "No, no. Forgive me, Honiton, but the prospect of trailing behind two couples who can see nothing but the person beside them for the fog of love which surrounds them—that is not my idea of an afternoon well spent."

  "I should think that the solution to that would be obvious," said Mrs. Galbraith, coming to a stop beside Jacques and Cecilia. "We must find just such a person for you." She wagged her eyebrows once at her brother.

  Tobias's friends laughed heartily with him. "I think I should prefer the irons you wore a few days ago"—he nodded at Jacques— "to becoming leg shackled. But thank you."

  "It is only a matter of time before
Papa demands it, Tobias," said Cecilia.

  Tobias grinned widely. "Then I shall take the best advantage of whatever time I have left to me."

  He and his friends nodded at the four of them and continued on their way.

  Jacques watched them ride off, the sound of their laughs carrying behind them.

  "I think," said Jacques, "that when your brother falls in love, it will catch him completely off guard and perhaps turn his world upside down." He looked down at Cecilia. "In much the same way that meeting you did to my life."

  He pulled her closer to him—as close as he could without scandalizing the equipages and fellow pedestrians around them.

  "And now that your life has been upturned," Cecilia said, "do you find that you are satisfied with the outcome?"

  He looked at her with a half-smile, his heart thumping and his head reeling as he tried to grasp that this was no dream but rather his new reality: the warm eyes looking up at him as though no one existed outside of themselves. The fog of love, Tobias had called it.

  "I find," he said, coming to a halt and brushing a thumb across her pink cheek, "that when I look back on my life before I knew you existed, I wonder how I didn't expire from the boredom and inanity."

  She tilted her head to the side, smiling. "You mean to say that, before you met me, you were never imprisoned?"

  He pursed his lips, feigning thought, then shook his head.

  "Never competed in a prize fight?"

  He shook his head.

  "Rescued two women dressed as men?"

  He shook his head.

  "Made into a peer of the realm by the reigning monarch?"

  He put up a finger, narrowing his eyes, but then dropped the finger, shaking his head. "You see what a very dull life I led."

  "Well, my lord," she said, "I will endeavor to keep you as entertained in the country as you have been in town."

  He reared back, staring at her in mock horror. "That sounds more like a threat than a promise."He narrowed his eyes. "I trust you have not acquired any morbid notions from Letty's tales about the murderous widow Lady Rebecca?"

  Cecilia wagged her eyebrows at him. "If I answered you, it would spoil the entertainment entirely."