Cecilia's Claim

by Raven McAllan

  "So do I. So now?"

  "We head to the horses," Caleb answered her. "'Tis a pity you can't ride astride but that can't be helped. I had hoped to be away before now but no matter we will manage. Follow me and Philippe will take the rear. If either of us ask you to do anything at all, then do it. It will be for your safety. Keep your voice low, and if any womanly intuitive sense says something feels wrong, let us know. A sense of danger is often the best security one can have."

  That made sense. How often in her past had she used intuition to save herself from what could have been social suicide, to an even greater degree than she had committed?

  "I will," she assured them. "I can ride astride if you wish, you know, even though my skirts will ride indelicately high. I enjoy riding like that, although I confess I usually wear a pair of pantaloons Randall acquired for me. Do you have none spare?"

  "Sadly not here," Caleb answered her, and touched her arm in a gesture of protective comfort. "Anyway let's go. It will be late enough before we reach the moor and I'd prefer the day to have some light left. If the gentlemen are out and about it is a certainty we'd better not be. I'll lead, and Philippe will bring up the rear. If I stop Cecy, crouch down and stay still and silent."

  Cecy wasn't sure she needed to hear the answer, but had to ask. "What about Randall? And he will now be worrying about me, to say nothing of the Battings." To her shame she'd forgotten about the housekeeper and her husband, who would notice her absence much earlier than Randall would.

  "Randall is busy, and will be told you are safe. The Battings have a missive from you saying you've met friends and are staying with them for a while."

  "I didn't write any such letter." Cecy was bewildered.

  "No, I did, I pen a fair ladies' script." Philippe said. "As well as adopting a delicate falsetto when necessary." His voice changed on the last few words to a high lilting trill.

  Cecy snorted with laughter. "You sound like any one of my friends."

  That is the intention. It has saved me from discovery many a time. So be assured we have, I think, covered all eventualities."

  "I hope so. I do worry, especially if my presence is a danger to Randall. I do wonder at Perry's determination to send me with him."

  Caleb gave her a brief hug. "You have two protectors, love, and we're here to make sure that nothing untoward happens. Just do as we say."

  She rolled her eyes. "As ever."

  Caleb gave her hand a squeeze and walked toward an almost unnoticeable break in the trees. Cecy followed him, thankful she had put on sturdy shoes that morning.

  Is it only this morning since I left the house? It seems like eons ago. So much has happened. Cecy's mind buzzed with thoughts of her day so far.

  Caleb brushed the fronds of some ferns to one side and plunged into the undergrowth.

  Cecy followed and found herself in a cool, dark world of green. Very little light filtered through the trees, even though the leaves had begun to fall. In a few weeks, she realized, as autumn moved into winter there would be very little cover. Only the fact that the season had been mild in this part of the country gave them the protection they needed.

  It was pleasant in the wood. The leaves and earth underfoot muffled their footsteps, and to Cecy it looked as if they were underwater. The foliage moved slightly in the breeze, and created a swaying kaleidoscope of colors.

  They walked on in silence. The stillness of the air, and the soft birdsong was as reassuring as the presence of her protectors. Without any warning, the raucous call of a crow overhead made her jump. Caleb stopped and she bumped into him. Philippe, she realized, had halted instantly. They both looked alert, in the same manner as one of her brother Nash's hounds when it scented a fox.

  Cecy looked upward and sniffed; there was something different in the air. It overpowered the gentle fragrance of the bushes and leaves.

  Pomade? No but I recognize that scent. Try as she might Cecy couldn't place just where she knew it from. Philippe had her arm in a warning gesture, and she nodded in recognition of his caution.

  For several minutes no one moved. Cecy scare dared move her head, in case she drew attention to herself. It was lucky her pelisse was a mossy green; it melded nicely into the undergrowth.

  "Gone, whoever it was." Caleb began to walk forward. They were at the edge of the wood and Cecy saw a barn perhaps two hundred yards in front of them.

  "Wait here, if I'm not back within five minutes, you know what to do." Caleb addressed Philippe before he walked openly toward the building ahead.

  "Just stay still, love. This land is known to belong to Caleb. His presence will be unremarked on. Mine perhaps, yours not so." Philippe sat down in the long grass under the trees, and patted the ground next to him. "Sit love, and we'll wait. All will be well." He plucked a blade of grass, rolled it between his lips and ran one hand up under her skirt and up her calf. If she hadn't known Philippe so well, Cecy wouldn't have recognized how alert he was. To all intents and purpose he looked like any gentleman whiling away the hours with a personable accommodating lady. She slapped his hand away; it was not the time to play.

  A shrill whistle, not unlike the noise of a shrike, split the air.

  "One moment, come here now." She was pulled to her knees and rolled under him before she had time to utter a word.

  "Turn onto your stomach and hide your face in your hands. Hurry." His harsh tone startled her into instance obeyance. As she cushioned her face between her arms, her shawl fell over most of her face. Cecy risked a brief peek between her arm and the edge of the shawl. His shadow fell over her face, and she felt him shift his body to lie close to her. His hand stroked her nape and his breath stirred her hair.

  "Ah me lover, just a lil bit noe ah? "

  The voice was so unlike his normal cultured tone, Cecy bit her lip to stop herself sniggering. He bit her earlobe none too gently and she jumped.

  "Play along." His voice was a whisper.

  She gave a giggle. "Ohh now surr, that be a bit fast like…" Cecy prided herself that she had a good ear for dialect. The past few weeks she had heard enough village accents to be confident her words would sound reasonably local. The swat he gave to her backside was neither gentle nor necessary. Nor was the warning pinch.

  "You wanting to watch sir? Cause it'll be costin' yer."

  "Whippersnapper." Even through the shawl Cecy heard the cock of a gun. "I should fill you both with shot, that might make you less likely to rut on my land."

  His land? She braced herself for the shot. If it was anything like being peppered when Nash, her younger brother, had inadvertently caught her with the shot from his air gun, then she wasn't going to be able to sit down for a week for all the wrong reasons.

  "Pah."

  The other voice had a slight accent and was neither local nor unpolished. Cecy racked her brains. From where did she recognize it or one similar?

  For several minutes there was silence. Cecy felt sick, and swallowed rapidly. The fact she couldn't see or hear anything played games with her mind and she felt the horrible crawl of fear advance through her, setting her nerves on edge.

  Please let it be over soon, please god don't let me be sick, please let us be safe. Please god…

  She started to shake. Cecy didn't register Philippe's voice until he pinched her ear.

  "Cecy he's gone. We're safe. Caleb is on his way back. You're safe."

  "What?"

  Chapter Ten

  Philippe held Cecy close to him, and stroked her hair. His cock had shriveled as if it was midwinter on the moor, and tentacles of fear had crept insidiously up his spine as the stranger had appeared over close by. He castigated himself. There was no way on god's earth he should have missed the man's approach. If it hadn't been for Caleb's whistle he'd have been caught with his metaphorical breeches down. One sweet memory of the woman in his arms and his common sense had deserted him. He stopped his introspection as he felt Cecy move.

  "Safe love, look, here comes Caleb. He'll tell u
s what to do."

  God help me, I hope he does.

  Stones and loose earth rolled down the tiny slope behind them as Caleb jumped the slight incline and landed next to them. He dropped a pile of somewhat tattered clothes onto the ground.

  "Bastard.On my land and carrying a gun. Did you get a good look at him?" Caleb dusted his hands down his breeches. "I was too far away to see his face." He looked down at Philippe and raised an eyebrow as he saw Cecy cuddled in.

  Philippe shook his head, and gently moved Cecy to sit next to him. She whimpered and he held her tight once more.

  "Shh, love, Caleb's back. Sit between us whilst he tells me what he's found out." Her nod was infinitesimal. Caleb hunkered down and stroked her hair. "Cecy hold up, you've been so brave. It won't be too long now until we're well away from here."

  "It was the smell." Cecy blinked rapidly. Her color gradually returned. "The scent of the man who was here. I know it. Well not exactly know it, but it was familiar. If only I could remember who I associate it with. It worried me that I know." She looked from Philippe to Caleb and back and squeezed his hand. He kissed her cheek.

  "Don't think about it now, love. It'll come when you least expect it." Philippe said. "Now what Caleb?"

  "We're going to turn Cecy into a boy. I found these in the barn. I'd forgotten they were there."

  She sat up so fast Philippe wondered if she was about to thump Caleb or flounce off in a huff. He should have remembered she was made of sterner stuff.

  "Really?" she asked. Her eyes held interest now. "A boy? How?"

  Caleb indicted the clothes. "Old, tired, but a better camouflage than petticoats, especially for riding astride. Will you put them on? It's safe now. He, whoever he was, is well gone. He walked down the hill like the Whist hounds were onto him."

  Cecy picked up the garments Caleb had dropped. "Hmm, I foresee one problem. These." She looked down. Philippe followed her gaze and grinned.

  "I see your point. I can't envisage that shirt and jacket covering your breasts, and they would be somewhat of a giveaway. I have a suggestion." He pulled the strip of lace from inside his jacket.

  Cecy giggled, her composure was obviously restored. "Not what it is intended for, but yes, it will be perfect. Will you help me please, both of you?" She fluttered her eyelashes. "As I am so sweet and innocent and helpless." She held up her arms.

  "Sweet in one way I would agree, but innocent and helpless?" Caleb raised one eyebrow." As likely a scenario as Prinny losing weight."

  It seemed the thought of a slim and svelte Prince Regent was not to be imagined. All three of them sniggered.

  "I lost my composure somewhat just then," Cecy remarked as she stood up and began to undo the ties on her gown. "That scent must hold powerful and unpleasant memories for me. If only I knew what they were. I know, I know." She grimaced. "It will come when I least expect it. I will forget it for now." Her voice was muffled as she pulled her gown and petticoat over her head and then stood naked in front of him and Caleb. Her body glowed in the soft light and with typical predictability his cock took notice.

  "Not now sadly," Caleb murmured. "And I am in the same state." A swift glance from Philippe toward Caleb proved his statement to be correct.

  "How do we bind my breasts tight enough to flatten them and not cut off my circulation?" Cecy asked, seeming unselfconscious in her nakedness.

  "Stand still and hold your arms away from your body." Philippe commanded. Cecy raised her eyebrows. "Sadly for no other reason than to flatten your silhouette, love. Though I say here and now how much I will look forward to revealing them once more."

  "My silhouettes? I have more than one?"

  Philippe pinched one of her nipples. "You will have soon."

  "Touching me like that, apart from making me want more, is not likely to decrease my silhouette 'tis more likely increase it," Cecy complained. The look on her face made it clear she wasn't serious with her grumbles.

  Caleb reached out and tapped her bare arse. She jumped and squealed. "Later you will have all you want and more, and we will gladly help your body regain its shape."

  Philippe began to wind the strip of lace around her breast and upper body. "Tell me if I make this too tight, love. But I need to flatten you as best I can." With one eye on her face—he wasn't sure that on this occasion she would obey him—he worked swiftly to bind her breasts.

  "There." He tore the end of the material and made a neat knot under her arm. "That may not be the most comfortable place, but it will be the most discrete." He stood back to admire his handiwork. The delicate lace covered her from under her arms to just above her waist, and left the rest of her body exposed. It was erotic and arousing. He didn't need to hear Caleb's murmur of approval to know he agreed. "Try the shirt now."

  Caleb helped her wriggle into the shirt. It was a tight fit, but her flattened torso worked in their favor and with a few twists and turns the well-worn cloth slipped over her.

  "I must say, you still look rather fetching," Caleb said. "Though as you are bare from the waist down, no one seeing you would accept that your body is a sylph-like as it seems."

  Cecy stuck her tongue out at him. "Pass me those breeches and your handkerchiefs."

  Puzzled, Philippe took the square of linen out of his pocket and handed it over, as Caleb handed her his handkerchief as well along with the breeches.

  "Right, look." She pulled the garments up her legs. "How old are these?" She asked Caleb.

  "Very. However they are clean, and unworn since I fell in the stream. I returned them to the barn in case the necessity to change clothes occurred. I forgot about them, but they were wrapped inside the jacket, so didn't get musty or damp." She looked at Caleb in amazement. "These are yours? They fit you?"

  Philippe smirked as a faint rosy hue crept up Caleb's cheeks.

  "They did ten years ago. Now I fear I would split them at the seams if I tried to wear them."

  She giggled and pushed the handkerchief inside the breeches and re-arranged them over her quim.

  "Now I have a cock. I agree if you were to wear them now…well?" She rubbed her hands over the mound. "I could swear you have more down here than I suggest."

  "Minx, I'll remember that slur."

  She looked injured. Only the mischief in her eyes showed the expression was contrived. "It was a compliment."

  Caleb helped Cecy into the rough jacket. "Almost a scrubby schoolboy except for the hair. We'll have to try and pin it under the cap."

  "No need. Do you have a knife? A sharp one?" Philippe grinned; he had an idea what she was about to do.

  "All our knives are sharp." He pointed out as Caleb pulled out a hunting knife. "But do we need to go to such extremes?"

  "Maybe not, but there again maybe we do. If you have kept me safe so far, then it behooves me to help in any way I can. Who will do the honors?"

  Caleb looked at Philippe, and he saw the entreaty in his eyes. He sighed. "I will. However I use my own knife. Face Caleb and stand still." He waited until she did as he bid and took out his own knife, a wicked-looking instrument, which had helped him in many a sticky situation.

  He took the weight of her tresses in one had and held the knife away from her throat. "Ready, do not flinch," he warned her, and before any of them had time to reconsider slid the blade through her hair. Strands of auburn hair fell to the ground in tiny curls.

  It surrounded Cecy like soft raindrops and he heard her muffled gasp.

  "Almost done." He took a final hank and ruffled the hair left. It surrounded her head like a wavy halo.

  "You look like an angelic choirboy." He patted her rump. "Right. Put on the cap, and once Caleb has checked all is clear, we'll go."

  "I feel like I should have a catapult or a pea shooter." Cecy said as they began to walk toward the barn. "And maybe a snare or two. You know, as props."

  'If you think I'd trust you with any of those items you are sadly mistaken." Caleb said as he and Philippe pushed open the barn doors. "I va
lue my hide."

  Philippe watched Cecy bristle.

  "No, not because I distrust your aim." Caleb remarked. "But because you may feel the necessity to get your own back for some slight, imagined or otherwise."

  Cecy poked him in the ribs. "I never imagine slights, I remember them."

  Philippe choked back a laugh. Cecy rounded on him. "Pardon?"

  He held his hands up in the universal 'who me' gesture. "I didn't say a word."

  "You didn't have to. You two think alike." She walked over to where three horses were tethered. Her arse hardly swayed in the tight confines of the breeches, and Philippe ached to touch. He ached to reach out and touch her, to pull the trousers down her legs, trapping them and then plunge his cock inside her. If that could be achieved with Caleb's participation, then his own personal nirvana would be reached.

  It was a sad fact that was unlikely to happen again anytime soon. He shook his head to clear it of erotic ideas.

  "What?" Caleb has seen the gesture.

  "Seeing Cecy walking in front of us in those garments is sending such interesting ideas to my brain my prick is hard."

  Caleb reached out and rubbed Philippe's cock over his clothing. "True." Philippe groaned. "If you do that not only will I stain my breeches, my resolve will disappear and I will have both of you."

  "Not at this moment you won't." Cecy had turned back and heard his words. "I may have got into these clothes. Once I am divested of them, there is little chance of shoving me back into them again. I feel like a sausage in its casing."

  Philippe gave Caleb a swift hug, and kissed him hard on the mouth. For one swift, satisfying moment their tongues met and tangled together, before he made himself pull back.

  "My turn," Cecy said lightly, and gave each one in turn a long lingering kiss. "Now, where were we?" Her eyes twinkled.

  A shiver of excitement ran through Philippe, and made his skin tingle.

  Later.

  Chapter Eleven

  "About to put you over my knee?" Caleb suggested.

  "Oh, you wish." Cecy danced across the barn floor back to the horses and stroked the nose of a small dainty mare. "We won't let him, will we?" she crooned to the horse.