Abel paused and smiled politely. "Of course."
Cicely watched him go and rose, beginning to clear dishes from the table. "I'll help with the dishes, Mother."
"Thank you, Ciss. We'll let Miss Betsy off the hook since she cooked the meal."
As soon as she was in the kitchen alone with her mother, she felt gentle arms about her shoulders.
"Be patient, my darling," her mother said in a low voice. "And a word of advice. Keep your temper. Abel is no fool. He knows what's going on."
"Oh, I do hope you're right." Cicely hugged her mother. "And I'll try my best, I promise."
Her mother kissed her cheek, whispering, "See that you do, my sweet girl. Because if tampering with the bell pull during the night was done intentionally, you have a formidable enemy. But you already know, Abel will not put up with your temper any kindlier than he will her pranks."
She sighed and went on to help with the dishes, but she was tight lipped. She had just finished drying them, when her father and Abel returned from the attic and came into the kitchen.
"What did you determine?" her mother whispered, leaning into her husband's arms.
"It wasn't broken. It was disconnected."
Cicely's eyes grew wide. "How?"
"You probably know as well as I. The judge noticed it before I did. But we have no proof. And I don't think it'll happen again."
"Because?" Her mother was frowning.
"Because I went into the drawing room and announced we have rats in the attic. I thought she'd faint."
"Henson! You didn't!"
He was laughing now. "I certainly did, my love."
Abel held out his hand toward Cicely. "Ready for a ride, young lady?"
Cicely's father held up a hand. "Judge, you do realize you don't have to take Phebe with you?"
Abel shook his head. "She asked very politely. And I said I would. I won't go back on my word."
Cicely was in less than a good humor but let Abel lead her through to the drawing room to get Phebe, who eagerly joined them. He escorted both of them to the carriage. The first thing Cicely did was to approach Mazy and scratch her nose and ears, whispering softly to her. Abel watched her for a moment.
"Mazy would love to have you stand here all day and do that. But it won't accomplish a ride," he said, standing next to Phebe.
Cicely turned toward him and approached. Phebe had moved forward, for help into the carriage. But he reached past Phebe and took Cicely by the hand, drawing her close when it came time to put them in the seat beside him. Lifting Phebe to the outside, he went around and climbed in from the other side.
"Such a lovely carriage," Phebe said as they left.
"Thank you. It works well for the summer months. I can see the advantage of having a closed one for the winter." His eyes lingered on Cicely and a bemused smile crossed his mouth.
"But we won't be here in the winter to see it." Phebe's lips protruded in a pout.
"Cicely," he said a moment later. "I thought I'd take you out toward Pembroke. It's changed some recently."
"I'd like that. Where is everyone? Katie and Lizzie? The boys?"
"Lizzie and Katie are in Philadelphia at college, sharing a room. Geoff is in Leesburg, working in the reconstruction. He works as an architect now, when he can, and everything he designs seems to have an element of Pembroke in it. He designed my house, by the by, and built it for me. Nicholas is off on his own. He has no desire to go to college. Nick follows his own path, and none of the rest of us seem to know exactly what it is." His eyes crinkled with mirth. "And me, you know about."
She grinned up at him. "Abel Carter, the judge," she said softly. "Somehow, I always knew you'd be something respectable like a judge. But it still surprises me when people call you that."
"It surprises me, too." He laughed softly. "Where's Thomas now?"
"The big brother…" she said, grinning "…is also working in Leesburg. And trying to find a bride who suits him. He's too particular, however. He'll never find one. He expects perfection. He grew up around us and decided he'd never put up with that kind of behavior in a wife."
A raised eyebrow preceded Abel's next comment. "Well, young ladies are expected to grow up at some point, before they become wives."
Cicely looked away, but he reached over and took her chin in his hand, giving her a wink.
"You're incorrigible," she said.
A corner of his mouth turned up. "And you, little one, are precocious."
It was then that Phebe spoke up. "Abel, would you like to hear some stories about things Cissy and Polly did last year at school?"
Cicely's shoulders stiffened, and Abel glanced down at her. A moment later, he looked toward Phebe. If Abel thought that would deter Phebe from sharing and dramatizing the stories she told, he was wrong, Cicely thought.
Phebe began to tell one story after another. Cicely's face became more and more grim. She even told him about Cicely imitating Mr. Stenson, the director of the school, and lighting up a cigar for the benefit of the other girls, holding it between her teeth and speaking with a Boston accent. He loved cigars, it seemed.
Abel's gaze lingered on her, and she turned to stare straight ahead. When she dared glance up at him briefly and back down, he did not look amused.
Damn Phebe, she thought. Why must she do this?
Finally, Abel looked toward Phebe. "Enough. I've heard all I want to hear."
"Oh, but I'm not finished—"
"Yes. You are."
Phebe looked at him, honestly surprised. Her mouth remained open for a moment before she realized he was serious and closed it.
There was a silence that lasted for quite a while, before Cicely looked up. "You can take us home, if you wish, sir."
"Did I say I wished to?"
She shook her head, her mouth tight. To her surprise, he moved one arm around her and drew her closer to him. She looked up, uncertainly. His eyes were on the road.
"And now," he said, glancing toward Phebe. "I'll tell you a story about Cissy and Polly that you may not know."
Phebe's eyes lit up. "I can't wait to hear it!"
"When I was a lad, right at the end of the Civil war, this was an area of extreme unrest. My parents lived on land adjacent to The Adams House, and worked for Francis. But the Confederates took over the house, and Lady Adams brought her daughter and most of us to stay at Pembroke, which you've seen before. The Union soldiers had taken the house you're staying in now."
Phebe was frowning. "What does this have to do with Polly and Cissy?"
"You'll see. Mrs. Andrews brought the twins and Thomas, their brother, to stay there, because Pembroke was the only place that hadn't been taken over by soldiers. There was a Union attempt to take Pembroke while we were there."
Cicely looked up, smiling. "You taught Polly and me places to hide in the house in case there was an attack, remember? But you told us never to shout 'Olly, Olly, oxen free' at the end."
Abel gave her a brief squeeze. "I did. Not that I thought either of you actually ever listened to anything I tried to teach you. But you were small and you hid quite well in the tiniest places." Then he turned toward Phebe. "There was a wedding one afternoon, followed by a dance in the evening. But it was interrupted when we saw some shadowy figures outside the back, by the marble pond." Abel was quiet for a moment, and Cicely knew he was reliving those moments.
"To continue, the Confederates began shelling the house from four in the morning, until first light. Every window was shot out, the grand piano in the corner of the drawing room was destroyed. All the porticos were ruined. By first light, the house was nearly out of ammunition to return fire with. It was getting desperate."
Phebe took in a deep breath. "What happened then?"
"The men were on the ground floor, firing back when they could. All the rest of us were upstairs, watching the attackers. Father Michael, our priest, was on the top floor. I was on the second. Suddenly, the strangest thing happened. The soldiers on horseback began to
near the house. It was just light enough, we could see their faces by then. They were terror-stricken. They were running into each other and yelling, panicking. Finally, they began shouting, "Retreat," and they began bolting for the road and the hills. We all just stood there, until they were gone. And Pembroke was in complete silence."
"And?" Phebe was staring at him impatiently. "And?"
"Father Michael came down the staircases, calling for everyone to be quiet and still, and he walked calmly down to the front door and opened it. There was a long silence and then he began to laugh. I've never heard such a laugh from him, before or since. By then, it was dawn, and he walked into the drawing room and handed them this large piece of paper." He paused, looking down at Cicely and grinning. "It seems that sometime during the night, between the dance and the attack, two little seven-year old girls crept downstairs while no one knew it and put a sign on the front door. And what, Cicely, did it say?"
Cicely put up her hands to describe the size of the sign. "It said, "Quarantined: The Pock is here!" She let out a chuckle. "We thought it might scare off the attackers."
"And it did. It planted fear into them that weapons and ammunition never could have—and the men downstairs had very little of that left. There were two miracles that night. The first was that not a single soul inside was hurt, with the exception of some glass cuts. The second was that sign, planted by two mischievous little girls." His indulgent smile lit on Cicely's face. "Father Michael pled your cases, too, young lady. I don't know if you've thanked him for that, but if not, you should."
Their eyes met. Cicely knew hers were shining.
Suddenly, however, his expression changed. His eyes stayed on her face and grew suspicious.
"But I never figured out how you managed to go all the way through the house without any of us seeing you. Unless you did it during the time Lord Wellington and Sir Frances came, just after the dance. I tried to keep you both in my sights."
"Well, we…" Her voice grew small, suddenly. "We didn't actually go through the house."
Abel drew the horse to a halt, staring down at her. "Then how did you go?" he demanded.
She looked up, her eyes wide. "We sort of went down the servant staircase and outside, through the, umm…" Her voice was trembling now. "We went out the back door."
Abel's face was a combination of incredulity and exasperation. His eyes hard, his hands gripping the reins, he spoke in a tone that was deep and forbidding. "Are you telling me you went outside and all the way around the grounds and put it on the front porch and then went back the same way?"
Cicely's eyes were huge pools of green. "Don't shout at me, Abel. That was twelve years ago. We were only seven!"
"And did you have any idea how much danger you put yourselves in?"
She glanced from Phebe, who was grinning eagerly, back to Abel. Phebe seemed to be taking delight in her predicament.
Able had not taken his eyes from her face. She blinked, troubling her trembling lower lip with her teeth, trying to keep it still.
Abel sat up straight, suddenly, and flicked the reins again. Turning around, he took them back toward town silently. When he pulled up in front of the Andrews house, he stopped and walked around the carriage, lifting Phebe down and walking her to the house. But as Cicely made a move toward the side of the carriage, he stopped her with a single glance. She watched as he brought Phebe up the steps toward the house.
"Thank you for the ride, Abel, it was—" Phebe looked back, sounding puzzled.
But Abel was back in the carriage, gathering the reins and whistling. Mazy moved forward.
"You and I are going to talk, young lady," he growled, as he pulled away.
Telling the Truth
They were on their way back out of town, when he slowed and glanced down at her.
"Cicely, do you understand at all why I'm upset with you?"
She shook her head. "Yes, sir. But you can't spank me for that, Abel. It was too long ago."
He stared hard at her. "No. I suppose I can't. But I'd like to. Did anyone else know you went outside the house at the time? Or am I the only one who knows what kind of danger you two put yourselves in?"
She hung her head. "No one else knows." She looked away.
Abel sighed and pulled the horse over under a nearby willow residing next to a stream. Cicely stiffened as he lifted her and set her into his lap. When his arms went around her, she leaned her head over onto his chest and closed her eyes. She could almost feel his forbidding gaze still drilling holes into her.
"Don't ever," he said softly a moment later, into her hair. "Do something like that again. Understand? Why didn't you tell anyone what you'd done?"
"Because Miss Emily was supposed to be watching us. She never knew we were gone. It was dark, and we puffed pillows up under the covers so it looked like we were still there." Guilt once again clouded her face. "She felt responsible every time we got out of her sight. And she might have lost her job if anyone had known we got away. I wish I hadn't said anything in front of Phebe. She loves to tell things on us. She'll likely go straight to Mother and Father."
Abel let out a deep breath and lifted her chin so she had to face him. "I doubt they'll be surprised. And it's too late for any trouble to come to Emily now because of it, either. You two were a handful. Everyone knew that." His arms tightened. "What am I going to do with you, Cicely Allison Andrews? Tell me."
She lowered her gaze. "I don't know."
"Well, I do."
She looked up warily and waited.
"In order for me to keep a firmer eye on you, it seems there is only one choice."
She gasped, her eyes huge. "You can't do that! Father would never agree to send us to jail!"
He laughed softly. "Not a bad idea. However, that's not what I had in mind. But after listening to your escapades this past year, even after the spanking I gave you just before you went back to school, I'm thinking I can do something else." A slow smile built across his mouth. "If you're willing and your father gives permission."
Her face drained of color. "You said you weren't going to spank me."
"And I won't. Not this time." When she looked confused, he lifted her chin. "But I may marry you."
Her mouth opened slightly, her wide green eyes meeting his.
"A shock?" He stared down at her. "Would you marry a judge? I'll probably never be as wealthy as your father. But I can provide for you well enough." He grinned. "And it's the only way to keep you well-behaved. I have to get you away from Phebe, at least."
She tilted her head. "You think she's a bad influence on me?"
He leaned down and kissed her dimples. "I think you are a bad influence on her. I see those dimples. Don't think I don't know a mischievous little imp when I've been watching her for more years than I can count."
"You can't count to more than nineteen?" Her scowl caused him to throw his head back in laughter.
When he stopped, however, his face was stern. "I'm the one who suggested your mother stop dressing you and your sister alike in an attempt to make you stop changing places. But you still did it, didn't you?" He shook his head and tilted her face backward. When he leaned down, he kissed her soundly and leaned back to study her face.
"I've been set on marrying you since you were fifteen and I witnessed you advancing on the rattlesnake to keep Katie Adams from being bitten. I'd known about your fearlessness and foolishness since you were small. When I watched you do that, I realized your sense of loyalty. And your big heart. No—don't argue. I'm not finished."
"But it was you who saved her."
"Yes, because I knew you were in danger. You're an amazing young lady. I've wanted you to be mine for a very long time. Think about it."
As he set her back down next to him, she considered his words. It seemed right. She had known him all her life, and he had not changed even the tiniest bit from the Abel who had always looked out for her. If she refused, she might lose him forever. She could not bear that. She could not ima
gine saying no. When he pulled back up close to the stable, she waited for him to move. He didn't. Instead, he was watching her carefully.
"Yes," she said softly.
His stare continued. "Are you sure you don't want to think it over a few days?"
"I'm sure."
"You're positive."
"Yes."
"Cicely, I don't want you having second thoughts. There are things I'll expect of you."
"What things?"
His voice was deep. "Obedience. And when you're not, I believe you know what will happen. Every time you disobey, you can expect a trip over my knee."
"Abel! Did you or did you not ask me to marry you? Have you changed your mind?"
He pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. "Hush, brat," he said, a moment later. "I just want to make sure you're serious and you know your mind."
"I'm not a child, Abel."
A brow rose.
"Well, I'm not."
"Then," he said firmly, reaching for her waist. "I'll expect you to prove it." He lifted her down and turned her sideways, giving her a hard swat before leading her to the house.
She scowled at him, and he grinned.
"You'll need to get used to that. I think you need a few days to think this over. But I'd like to ask your father's permission now. Then I promise not to press you. You'll have a chance to change your mind."
"I won't change my mind, Abel. But you might change yours."
She felt his hands on her shoulders as he stopped and turned her to face him just as they reached the front of the house.
"Oh no. I assure you, that won't happen." He leaned down and kissed her, right in front of the drawing room window. She felt herself grow weak, as his kiss deepened. Shivers traveled down her spine and her breath grew shallow.
Cicely was shocked at his open display of affection. But she was even more shocked when she looked toward the house and saw the rest of her family standing at the window. Her father and mother were grinning. Polly's face showed affection.
Phebe's, however, was the direct opposite. The look on her face was rabid, until she realized Cicely was watching her. Then it rapidly became a smile. But her eyes did not change.
Judging Cicely (Strasburg: The New Generation Book 1) Page 3
