Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
While Cecily appeared quite at ease with having stowed away in the coach and making her escape from London, Thomas was less so. From his limited experience of daughters of London society Thomas knew that young ladies did not just simply run away from home.
He rapped on the roof and, after getting the driver’s attention, instructed him to pull over to the side of the road. Jumping down, he helped Cecily out onto the roadside.
“I thought you might want to stretch your legs a bit since you were cramped inside the bench box for the past forty-odd miles,” he said.
“Yes, thank you.” She held her arms out wide, then rolled her shoulders. Thomas stood patiently waiting while Cecily ironed out the kinks in her muscles.
“Now before we continue on, I should like to ask a few questions,” he said.
She smiled at him. “Yes, of course. But before you do, I should let you know that yes, I am certain that this is what I want. And no, I won’t be changing my mind and pleading to return to London.
I have had plenty of time to think things over while cramped inside the bench and my mind is made up. Now what would you like to ask me?”
She had read his mind when it came to the most obvious of questions, and she had left him in no doubt as to her intentions. But from the size of the small travel bag she had packed, Thomas suspected Cecily had not put much more thought into her plans other than the immediacy of escaping London.
“Do you have any money?” he asked.
She did a good job of hiding her discomfort at his question. “A little. Enough to keep me going until I can secure a place somewhere. After that, I shall write to my father and see how he views the situation. I am sure I could find employment as a lady’s companion or something.”
Cecily would not meet his gaze. Instead, she began to fiddle with a small silver ring on her right hand. She slowly twisted the ring round and round her finger.
Finally, when he could not stand it any longer, Thomas reached out and took hold of her hand. “You don’t need to be afraid. I won’t send you back to your family, nor will I turn you out on the side of the road. You will be welcome to stay at Rosemount Abbey for as long as you like.”
His parents would be in London for another two weeks; it would give him time to help Cecily consider the options she had.
And possibly find some new ones.
“Thank you. I appreciate your kindness. I could do a with a friend right now,” she replied.
As he helped her back into the coach, Thomas had one last question on his mind. “Your father does not know where you are, does he? If I am going to have an irate earl descend upon me from a great height, I would like some prior warning.”
“No. Most definitely not. My father is not a man blessed with a forgiving nature. I expect if he found you and I alone in this carriage right this minute he would not hesitate to beat the both of us to within an inch of our lives.”
Thomas made a mental note to do all he could to keep Lord Norris from discovering where his daughter was, though he had an inkling that time was not on their side.
Cecily’s father had seen them together at the party.
That, coupled with his own departure from London on the very same day that she had disappeared, would make putting two and two together a very simple equation.
His mind was working at a fevered pace as the coach pulled away from the roadside and continued on.
It was late when the coach finally drew to a halt in the stable yard at the George Hotel in Huntingdon.
As Thomas helped Cecily down from the coach, he leaned in close. “We will have to pretend you are my sister. The hotel owner is a man known for his strict morals. If he thinks he has an unmarried couple staying under his roof, he may not give us rooms.”
Cecily nodded. She followed him into the hotel and stood quietly beside him as Thomas stepped up to the reception desk.
“Lord Thomas Rosemount. We require . . .”
“A room please. My darling husband and I are so tired from the long journey up from London. Also, could we possibly trouble you for a bath and some soap?” interjected Cecily.
Thomas gritted his teeth. Cecily might be comfortable playing dangerous games, but he was not.
The landlord took the required amount of coins and they followed him upstairs.
As soon as the door had been closed behind them, Thomas fixed her with a disapproving look. “And just what was the purpose in doing that? I was going to arrange for two rooms. Now we have to share a bed, unless you plan to sleep in the chair,” he said.
The look on her face had him immediately feeling like a scoundrel. “I thought it might be fun to play at husband and wife. I’m sorry, I completely forgot about the fact that the room would only have one bed,” she replied.
“Alright. I will go back downstairs and see about getting you your own room,” he replied.
He was back within a few minutes. In the time since their arrival, a coach heading for Edinburgh had arrived and all the vacant rooms in the hotel had been taken.
“There are no more rooms available tonight. So, thanks to you, we will have to sleep fully dressed, and I will take the chair,” he said.
Cecily came to him, and as much as he was annoyed with her, he didn’t resist when she took hold of his hand. She raised it to her lips and placed a tender kiss on his fingertips.
“I am sorry, Thomas. I didn’t think how this would play out. I will sleep in the chair; it is only fair.”
“No. Don’t do that. You shouldn’t be punished for being spontaneous. It’s just that it has been a long day and I am tired,” he replied.
“Well then, let us agree that we sleep with our clothes on and we share the bed. That way we will both get some sleep.”
“Agreed.”
Cecily woke in the middle of the night. Her ever-present dream filled her mind. She tried to sit up but found that Thomas’s arm was draped over her. His soft snores echoed in the room.
Her reoccurring dream had always been the same. She was standing on the side of a road while watching a coach disappear into the distance. In her hands, she held a small posy of yellow cowslips. She understood the meaning of being abandoned, but the flowers still remained a mystery.
Thomas shifted in the bed behind her and snuggled in close, their bodies spooning. She closed her eyes and lay her hand over his. A warm, soft kiss was placed on the back of her neck.
“Go to sleep, Cecily. I will keep you safe.”
An unbidden tear trickled down her cheek and onto the pillow. What was she doing in an inn, in the middle of England, sharing a bed with a man she barely knew?
Her mother, father, and even Thomas were right; she was too impetuous for her own good. She was risking a life of guaranteed wealth and privilege, all for the faint hope of finding something else.
If she had any good sense she would go to Rosemount Abbey and see the breeding stables, then return to London and marry Lord Horsham. It was what her parents wanted, and it was what a dutiful daughter would do.
And in the years to come she would remember this night, and Thomas Rosemount, as nothing more than a brief but pleasant momentary indulgence. A quiet, horse-breeding man such as him would never want a woman like Cecily for his own.
But as she felt the warmth of his breath on her neck and the rich scent of his cologne filled her senses, her heart spoke. What if Thomas was the right man for her? Was she brave enough to risk her entire future on a gamble?
She fell asleep again and dreamed of a brown-eyed man who picked wild cowslips and presented them to her on bended knee, saying, “I love you.”