“Truly I…” He paused and looked at her intently. His smile revealed dimples in his cheeks. “You are quite beautiful.”
Chapter 6
A hot flush scorched Cicely’s cheeks. She tore her gaze from his face and looked at the ground.
“Miss Cicely. Is everything all right?” John said from behind her. His tone held a fair amount of disapproval.
She tensed and turned to see him with Georgie at his side.
“I am well, Lord St. Ives. It is good of you to inquire.” She pursed her lips and kept her gaze from settling on him too long.
“I was hoping we would see you, sister,” Georgie said and leaned forward to hug her. As always, Georgie’s dark-brown hair was perfectly coiffed despite the occasional breeze. She was in the same pink dress as earlier and looked as if she were strolling along Bond street rather than visiting the simple shops of a country town.
“Sister,” Cicely said more curtly than she intended. “I did not expect to find you still in town.”
“John, oh”—Georgie paused with a pretty blush—“Lord St. Ives took me shopping for a Christmas present as soon as I arrived,” she replied with proper London lilt, as if she had not grown up in North Hampshire. “See?” Georgie thrust her hand forward, and Cicely’s heart dropped.
She exhaled slowly when she saw not a ring on Georgie’s finger but a silver bracelet with a delicate butterfly on it.
“The sweet man was going to package it up, but since I had already seen it, there was really no point.”
Georgie’s smile was so bright that Cicely felt like the worst sister in the world. She should have been happy for her sister and hoping that her wishes would come true. But it was difficult when those dreams destroyed her own.
“How lovely,” Cicely said through clenched teeth and a frozen smile.
“I have a present for you as well, Miss Cicely,” John said.
“You should not have bothered, Lord St. Ives.” The crispness in her voice was unmistakable even to her own ears.
At a throaty noise, Cicely turned back to the very handsome gentleman behind her. She grabbed his arm. “I would love to introduce you to”—she stopped. Lud, she did not know his name.
Before she could panic or even one awkward second passed, the beautiful man said, “I am Mr. Wright.”
“This is Lord St. Ives and my sister, Miss Georgianna Ward,” Cicely continued.
“How do you do?” Mr. Wright bowed.
John ignored the man and instead asked Cicely, “How do you know him?”
“Really, Lord St. Ives.” Georgie lowered her gaze while fluttering her lashes. “We must be kind to Cicely’s friend, as she has so few.”
Cicely’s face was on fire, and John glared at Georgie.
“Then I am most fortunate for having her friendship. Miss Cicely is quite selective, I am told,” Mr. Wright replied as he squeezed her arm and pulled her closer.
“How did you meet Miss Cicely?” John asked.
“We were introduced,” Wright replied smoothly.
Cicely took the hint and added, “By Lord and Lady Townsend.”
“Yes.” Mr. Wright smiled.
“Odd. I have not seen you around Townsend Abbey.” John’s eyebrow shot up.
“It was quite a brief visit. I am surprised we did not cross paths,” Mr. Wright explained.
“It was yesterday before you arrived,” Cicely added, hoping that the final detail would end John’s interrogation.
John frowned.
“You must join us for tea, Mr. Wright. Is that not so, Cicely?” Georgie pulled the attention back to herself.
“I am certain that Mr. Wright has other plans. He was only keeping me company until Lord Brinley returned.”
“Brinley is here?” John looked around.
“Yes. He is taking our packages to the carriage.”
“What say you, Mr. Wright?” Georgie insisted.
“I would love to.” He squeezed Cicely’s arm.
She smiled up at him, grateful that he was continuing the ruse though he did not know her at all.
“Shall we?” John opened the door to the tea shop, and Georgie walked in. He waited for Cicely.
“I should wait for Lord Brinley,” she insisted.
“I am certain that Mr. Wright would not mind doing that.” John glared at Mr. Wright. “After all, he would not want you to wait out in the cold. Would you, Mr. Wright?”
“Certainly not.” Mr. Wright inclined his head.
Cicely hated to leave him, as he had been so kind. She was unsure how he would know who Lord Brinley was. But there was no way she could object further, and John knew it. His smile said so. She passed by him and entered.
The tea shop was full of people, likely driven there by the cold, just as Cicely had been. Secretly, she was pleased that there were no available tables so she would not have to endure sitting through tea with Georgie and John. Their relationship was obvious—he had purchased a fine gift for her sister. Cicely felt like such a fool.
She was saved from further rumination when someone called, “St. Ives.”
At the back of the shop, Miss Brinley waved at them furiously, as did Lord Ashton, but with significantly more reserve.
Cicely groaned as Georgie moved in Miss Brinley’s direction.
From behind her, John whispered, “I have missed you all day.”
“Have you? I could not tell,” she hissed and strode forward as fast as she could.
He grabbed her arm gently but enough to slow her down. “Cici, last night was—” He paused as if searching for the words.
Wonderful. Delightful. Heartbreaking! “A mistake.” She jerked away from him and continued. She reached the others before John could delay her again and sat in a chair between Georgie and Miss Brinley.
John paused and glanced around the table. Only one chair was left, between Georgie and Lord Ashton. “We do not have enough chairs.” John turned to wave at a passing waiter.
Miss Brinley beamed. “You just missed Michael. He took Sophia and Amelia to the bookshop.”
Lord Coulton was there with the girls, so Cicely thought maybe she could use him as an excuse to escape.
“Those two certainly do talk a lot.” Ashton took a long drink from his tea as if needing it to fortify himself.
Miss Brinley laughed. “Yes. Watching those two manipulate Michael has been the highlight of my day.”
“I should go relieve Lord Coulton of their company.” Cicely stood.
“No, please sit,” Miss Brinley insisted. “They were really quite well-behaved. I did not mean to distress you.”
Cicely sat. Under the circumstances, to do anything else would have implied that she did not trust Miss Brinley’s word.
John returned with the waiter and two additional chairs. He placed one next to Lord Aston and the second between Cicely and Georgie. There was not enough room, so he stared at Georgie until she moved over.
Just then, Lord Brinley and Mr. Wright arrived. The two were laughing and talking as if they were old acquaintances.
John looked at them. “You know each other?”
“Of course. Mr. Wright is a regular at Aunt’s dinner table.” Brinley paused and looked at Wright. “Surprised you were not there last night.”
“Sadly, I had a prior engagement,” Mr. Wright explained. “I will be there this evening.” He looked at Cicely with a smile.
She returned his smile and forced herself to hold his gaze. It was too late not to keep up the charade.
“Is this seat taken?” Mr. Wright motioned to the chair between her and Georgie.
“No,” Cicely said.
“Yes.” John sat in the chair.
Cicely glared at John, but all he did was smile.
They were so close that his shoulder brushed hers. She tried to move away from him, but there was no room. The others conversed, but all Cicely could do was smell John’s woodsy pine scent. She remembered their kiss and the way it had made her want him.
Everyone was looking at her, but she had no idea what they were discussing. “Uh…”
John squeezed her knee under the table and smiled at her. “Would you play for us this evening? I have not heard you play in such a long time.”
“If I recall, you are much better than I. Perhaps you should be playing for us?”
They shared a smile, and Georgie glared at her fiercely.
Guilt flooded her. “I am certain Georgie could accompany you. She has a lovely voice.” Cicely shoved John’s hand off her knee.
Georgie smiled and blushed prettily. “Cicely, you are too kind.”
He began to run his fingers over her knee, making her forget what she was going to say, which was just as well, since the group continued discussing the music and merits of Vauxhall Gardens.
She shoved his hand away again, and he laughed aloud, drawing everyone’s attention. He simply smiled and offered no explanation, so the others resumed talking.
Cicely barely listened as they talked of London parties and the people they knew, a world she knew nothing of and never wished to. The thought of attending a ball to have everyone gawk at and judge her made her stomach turn. Even Mr. Wright looked as if he belonged and shared a few tales indicating that London was familiar ground for him. She had never felt more left out. A few times, Mr. Wright tried to engage her in the conversation, but Georgie interrupted and led the group back toward topics unfamiliar to Cicely. Georgie always needed to be the center of attention because it was simply who Georgie was—the pretty one, the proper one. Trying to compete was not something Cicely could hope to do. Being in the background suited her perfectly. She clasped her hands in her lap and watched as the tea was served.
John bit into a biscuit and hummed appreciatively as he leaned over and whispered, “Almost as tasty as you.”
She shoved him away.
He chuckled and returned to ignoring her but began to make little circles on her knee with his finger.
She jumped to her feet and announced, “I need to return, as it is quite late. Aunt asked for my help with the Christmas Eve decorations.”
John stood. “I will escort you back.”
“No.” She smiled to hide her distress. “I would not want to take you away from such a delightful time.”
Miss Brinley stood as well. “We need to find Michael and return. I promised Aunt Mary that we would help too.”
Ashton groaned, and Miss Brinley ignored him. Everyone but Georgie stood. “I was hoping to get another pot of tea. I am still cold.” She shivered and looked up at John meaningfully.
He turned away and gently nudged Cecily toward the door with a hand on her back.
Cicely resisted, but he only increased the pressure. “You should stay with Georgie,” she said softly enough that only John could hear.
“I have had too much tea already.” He pushed her harder. To resist would have caused a scene, so she began to move toward the door.
“I would enjoy more tea, if you would have me,” Mr. Wright said from behind her.
Cicely did not hear the rest, as John continued to push her toward the door. Outside, he led her away from the tea shop and into his waiting carriage a small way down the road.
She climbed in, and he followed. She waited for the others to join them, but John closed the door and thumped on the carriage roof.
Chapter 7
“Wait. Where are the others?” Cicely moved toward the door, and he stopped her.
“They have Brinley’s carriage.” He thumped the roof once more, and the carriage rolled forward.
“But I cannot be alone with you! It is not proper.”
“You did not seem to mind being alone with me last night,” he teased.
Cicely refused to reply and instead crossed her arms over her chest and looked out the window. The silence between them grew uncomfortable. She wanted desperately to fill it and demand how he could care for such a shallow creature as Georgie, but guilt stayed her tongue. Cicely would not belittle her sister even for the love of this man.
“Cici.” The pain in his voice made her look at him. “What happened last night—”
“Will never happen again,” she interrupted.
He pulled back as if she had slapped him. “Why?”
She could not bear to say the words any more than she could have heard him say them. A tear rolled down her cheek.
He cupped her chin and brushed her tear away with a thumb. “Cici, please, talk to me. Did I scare you?”
She shook her head.
“Was it so terrible that you cannot bear to look at me?” he asked, anguish filling his voice.
“No. It was wonderful,” she mumbled.
He laughed. “Well, that is a relief. Why are you crying, my love?”
The endearment brought her gaze up to his, and she saw nothing but affection in his eyes. “It cannot happen again.”
“You expect me to pretend that I never did this?” He kissed her cheek.
A thrill raced through her. “Yes.”
“And this?” He kissed her softly.
She put her hand against his chest, intending to push him away, but he was so warm. She grabbed his vest and pulled him closer. Her lips opened, and her tongue teased against his. It was sweet, painful agony.
She knew it was wrong to want him so desperately and that they should stop, but she could not. The taste of him was so sweet that she needed more. The kiss deepened as their tongues entwined and heads tilted to be closer to one another. He lifted her onto his lap, and she felt him grow hard beneath her, making her feel powerful and wanton.
She broke their kiss with a gasp. “We have to stop.”
“We will.” He untied her cloak and it fell. “Please, Cici. I need you.” He looked at her with such hunger that she ached in her stomach and between her legs.
“I need you, too, but I cannot betray Georgie like this.” Her voice was full of uncertainty.
John pulled back from her, his eyes narrowed. “What does Georgianna have to do with this? With us?”
He looked angry, and Cicely did not know what to say to him. What could I say? My sister is in love with you?
John tugged his hands through his hair and gazed out the window for a minute. When his gaze returned to her, he looked tired. He took her hands in his. “Sweet, sweet Cici, I do not know what Georgianna has told you, but there is nothing between us. There never has been. My heart has belonged to you from the first moment you ignored me on that riverbank.” He smiled.
Cicely’s heart felt lighter. He loved her as she loved him. She kissed him, trying to convey all the joy she felt.
He responded slowly at first, but as their need grew, the kisses became more demanding. His hand gripped her thigh, and she shifted against him. A growl rumbled in his throat, which excited her, so she wiggled her bottom against him.
He pulled away from her. “Minx, do you know what you are doing to me?”
“No.” She moved again with more intent, and her pleasure was not just from the reaction on his face. It was from the parts of her touching him.
His fingers gently pulled up her skirts. “Lord Popinjay loves these kinds of games.” His smile was wicked and full of promise. His fingers brushed her bare knee, and warmth filled her. They glided up over her thighs, and fires raged within her.
“Open your legs for me,” he whispered in her ear. The brush of his breath raised bumps along her neck and arm. What he was asking her to do was scandalous, but she could not help herself and complied. She ached and did not know why.
His fingers trailed over the curls between her legs, and a single finger slid between her folds. It felt as if lightning had hit her, and a moan escaped her lips. His finger slid deeper and her caressed her in slow, tantalizing strokes. Her moans increased, and every thought fled from her head. She gripped his coat as her body arched into his hand and her legs fell open more. He took advantage of that, and one becam
e two. The rhythm of his ministrations increased, as did the pleasure she felt. It built higher and higher until she thought she would die.
“Just a bit more,” he murmured in her ear. His satisfaction was clear, but she cared only for the movement of his hand.
“Please,” she moaned, not sure if she was asking him to stop or keep going, when something shifted deep inside her, and pure joy pulsated outward. His caresses slowed as her feelings tapered into a satisfied hum.
“What have you done to me?”
“That is just the beginning, my love.” He kissed her.
The carriage began to slow, and they pulled away from each other. He pulled down her skirts and retied her cloak as she straightened his cravat and ran her fingers through his hair.
He chuckled and gave her a quick kiss. She was so beautiful that he did not know how he had not returned for her long before.
The carriage stopped. “Ready?” he asked.
She nodded.
He opened the door, climbed out, and helped her do the same.
She wobbled a bit and giggled, but he held her waist until she was steady on her feet.
“Hopefully, you are convinced to appreciate Lord Popinjay.”
She laughed and walked into the abbey. “I would be happy to become more acquainted with Lord Popinjay. He seems to be a most intriguing fellow.”
“You have not even begun to understand how entertaining he can be.”
Cicely’s giggles stopped the instant they ran into Lady Townsend waiting for them in the foyer.
“I see you had a pleasant time.” Lady Townsend’s gaze swept over them both, and Cicely’s cheeks turned red.
“The town was very nice, Lady Townsend,” John said. “I must thank you again for inviting me.”
Lady Townsend did not respond immediately. Her lips pursed as if she were considering something of great import. Finally, she said, “An honorable gentleman such as yourself is always welcome here, Lord St. Ives.”
Her emphasis on the word “honorable” did not go unnoticed by John.
Fortunately, the rest of the guests entered right behind them in a cacophony of noise.
Christmas Surprise (Regency Holiday Surprise Book 1) Page 4
