Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Thomas did not sleep well that night. After spending the afternoon showing the estate grounds to Cecily, and the private supper they had shared, he knew his heart was in trouble.
He lay in bed until the early hour before dawn, staring up at the ceiling. She was a breath of fresh air in his life. Someone who had stepped into his quiet existence and swept away all the cobwebs which had been gathering.
When he finally rose, having managed an hour or so of sleep at best, he headed down to the stables.
Somewhere over a bottle of Burgundy late the previous evening, he had offered to take her riding this morning, with the added promise of a visit to the local village of Thorney.
Not surprisingly, Cecily had immediately accepted.
As he arrived at the stables, riding gloves in hand, he sensed trouble. Cecily was standing, hands on hips, arguing with the stable master.
“I am not riding sidesaddle. You need to change the saddle, and while you are at it, give me a better horse. I am not riding that one,” she said.
Thomas hastened to her side. “Good morning. What seems to be the problem?”
She turned to him and huffed. “I don’t ride sidesaddle, and you know that I am more capable a rider than warrants a middle-aged mare. Would you please speak to your man?”
The stable master met Thomas’s gaze. His country attire belied his near genius understanding of horses. But Thomas knew the stable master well enough to be certain that a hot-headed noble woman was beyond his skills to negotiate with.
“Put a standard saddle on Black Ace and bring him out here,” ordered Thomas.
The stable master looked from Thomas to Cecily, then frowned. Thomas pointed toward the stable.
“And make it quick. Lady Cecily and I have a few places to visit this morning.”
“Thank you,” she said.
When the stable master returned, leading a jet-black horse of some sixteen hands high, Cecily smiled her appreciation.
She came to the horse and took hold of the reins. “You are a beauty. Are you going to come out and spend the day with me?”
To the delight of all the stable hands gathered around, the horse responded with a snicker. The softening of his lower jawline and upper lip were the closest Thomas had ever seen to a genuine smile on a horse. Cecily had won another heart at Rosemount Abbey.
Cecily climbed into the saddle with such skill and grace that a murmur of appreciation rippled through the stable hands and their master.
Thomas stifled a smile, trying against all hope to hide his obvious attraction to her.
He avoided meeting the gaze of the stable master, a man who had known Thomas since he was a boy.
Thomas knew love was written all over his face.
As soon as they were clear of the stables, Cecily brought her mount up alongside his.
“I must apologize for my behavior just then. When I caught sight of the placid mount, they had prepared for me, I saw red. Everyone seems to think a woman incapable of riding anything bigger or faster than a pony.”
“And you and I both know you are an accomplished rider. Trust me, I don’t think the stable master will make that mistake a second time,” replied Thomas.
He hoped there would be a second time. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered to him, telling him that if he played his cards right, by day’s end he would know where he stood with her.
“So where to first?” she asked.
“I thought we might take a ride into the village of Thorney, then on the return journey I could show you the Ionic temple. While you can see it from the house, it’s quite something up close,” he said.
Cecily dug her heels into her horse. “Race you!” she cried as Black Ace galloped away. Thomas urged his own mount on and settled low in the saddle, but as Cecily and her horse drew clear, he knew he was never going to catch them.
Please lord, don’t ever let her out of my sight.
She was waiting for him just outside the entrance to the village, her horse happily chewing on some grass by the side of the road. He rose in the saddle and bowed to her. When Cecily laughed at his gallant gesture, Thomas knew Cupid’s arrow had found its mark.
In the village, they visited the local shop and Thomas purchased cold lamb pies and a freshly baked apple tart.
At the nearby tavern, he added a large bottle of ale and some cheese bread to their supplies.
The tavern keeper packed all the goods into a basket which Thomas then proudly carried before him.
Cecily let out a low whistle when he appeared from the tavern. “Either you are inviting an army for breakfast and you haven’t told me, or you are trying to fatten me up.”
He looked down at the basket and winced. He was used to stocking up for the regular jaunts he and Freddie undertook through the countryside. The overabundance of victuals never posed a problem for his brother’s bottomless pit of a stomach.
“My apologies. I think I may have over-catered,” he replied.
“I am sure we can stretch the food into supper if there is any remaining after we return to the abbey. Good food should never be allowed to go bad,” she said.
Practical as well as beautiful. Thomas added to his growing list of things he found enchanting about Cecily.
On the road back toward the abbey, he steered his horse into a narrow lane which led off the main road. Cecily fell in behind. His concern that she would find the solitude of riding single file boring was swept aside when the sound of her voice drifted to his ears.
“I’ve been a wild rover for many a year
“And I spent all my money on whisky and beer.
“Da da dee, da da dum.”
He turned in the saddle and looked back at her. Cecily was in her own little world, happily singing.
When he caught her eye, she shrugged. “Sorry. I can only ever remember the first two lines. It’s an old Irish drinking song and my grandmother said it was beneath me to learn the whole thing.”
The lane ended at a gate. They dismounted, and after Thomas opened the gate, they led their horses through, and he closed it behind them. After passing through a small copse of trees, they came to a clearing.
Cecily stopped. In front of them was the Ionic temple Thomas had pointed out to her from the garden the previous day. Beyond that, she could see the main house. They had come half circle back home.
“Ah,” she said, getting her bearings.
Up close, she realized that the temple was more than a simple garden folly. Its unfluted Ionic columns rose high into the sky, supporting a mock-Grecian roof. There was a set of steps which led up to what appeared to be a room with a door and glazed windows.
“It’s a proper building. I had assumed it was going to be a faux ruin and we would just admire it from a distance,” she said.
“Let me tether the horses, then we can go inside and eat,” replied Thomas, taking the reins from Cecily’s hand.
Inside the temple, Cecily found not just a room, but a warm and inviting space which was furnished with soft green leather sofas and plush woolen rugs. There was a large open area at the end.
Thomas set the basket of food on the floor.
“I forgot that my father had the dining suite removed last month, hence the empty space. We often invite local families to dine with us here during the summer, but he wanted the table and some of the chairs repaired before our next function,” he explained.
Taking the casual air of their day to its next logical step, Cecily sat down on one of the rugs next to the basket. Thomas followed suit.
She handed him the bottle of ale. Thomas opened it while Cecily unwrapped the rest of the food and lay it out in front of them on the rug.
“So, tell me about this place. How did you come to have a Grecian temple in your garden?” she said.
“My grandfather did the grand tour of Europe many years ago, and when he returned home, it was with plans to create his own private piece of Greece in his garden. I like to come up here late on hot summer evenings and sleep on one of the sofas. With the front and rear doors of the temple open, there is a calming breeze which flows through,” he replied.
Cecily broke off a piece of the cheese bread and handed it to him. She sat and stared at her own piece of bread. “It must be nice to have a place like this that you can call your own.”
“Well, it belongs to my father. But yes, I can come and go as I please. I hope that someday my children will be able to play here,” he replied.
He picked up one of the lamb pies. “Do you know what this fine lamb pie needs? It needs a good French red to go with it, and I have exactly the perfect one.”
He got to his feet and disappeared outside, reappearing a few minutes later with a bottle of wine tucked under his arm and two glasses in hand.
“Where did you get those?” she asked.
Thomas nodded toward the window. “There is a kitchen underneath the temple for when we have guests over. It has a wine cellar which my father keeps well stocked. It saves the long walk back to the main house.”
From his pocket, he produced a corkscrew. After opening the bottle, he poured them both a glass of wine and then sat next to Cecily on the floor.
The bottle lasted the first hour, then Thomas brought a second one up from the cellar. He poured Cecily another glass, but instead of taking a sip, she set it down on the floor next to her. She was beginning to feel light-headed.
When he resumed his seat, she noticed that he had closed the distance between them to a mere matter of inches.
Thomas put down his glass and turned to her. Taking hold of one of her hands, he raised it to his lips. She didn’t protest as he placed soft kisses on her fingertips. Next, he slipped a hand around her waist and drew her to him. Still Cecily said nothing.
Please don’t be like all the others.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
Their lips met. His kiss was soft and tender. When he swept his tongue into her mouth, a flash of heat raced up her spine. The kiss invited her to drop her guard and relax. The embrace was full of promise.
He shifted closer, lifting her so that she sat on his lap. His lips worked their way down her cheek, then her neck, only stopping when he reached the collar of her riding jacket.
As nimble fingers flicked at the buttons on the front of her gown, an army trumpet suddenly sounded in her brain. She seized his hand and forcefully held it.
Their gazes met, and she held his with a steely resolve, unwilling to let him go.
“Do you think because I ran away from my parents and a respectable marriage that I am easy? What have others told you about me?” she said.
“No. Nothing. I mean. Oh.”
Her grip on his hand tightened. The tips of his fingers turned a deep pink, as did his cheeks.
“Tell me what is it that you have heard, Thomas, which would make you think you could take liberties with me?” she demanded.
She pushed her hand against his chest and struggled to her feet.
Standing over him, she waited for his reply.
He looked up at her. “All I know about you is what I have heard through whispers at parties. That your family has kept you out of society for many years, and that something happened to you in Ireland.”
“Ah, now we get to the truth of it. You men are all the same,” she said.
He got to his feet and took a step toward her. Cecily held up her hand in warning. “Don’t come any closer, Lord Rosemount. I may not be able to stop you if you are intent on ravishing me, but I will certainly do enough damage that you will regret it.”
He shook his head. “I have no intention of doing anything that is not without your considered consent.”
“Really? So, you just thought that you would ply me with enough alcohol that I would go willingly into your arms. And that of course, is so much more gentleman-like than simply forcing a woman into doing your bidding,” she replied.
“Cecily, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he pleaded.
She closed her eyes and fought to regain her composure.
How many more times would she let herself be lured into situations with men who only wanted one thing from her?
Her good sense was always the last thing to kick in and save her.
“I am not a whore. I had a brief love affair with a lord’s son in Ireland when I was eighteen.
I let myself be with him because I fully expected him to make me an offer of marriage.
Neither of us knew that his parents had already agreed to a betrothal on his behalf,” she said.
Thomas raked his fingers through his hair. Cecily took an ounce of comfort in watching him struggle with the repercussions of his behavior.
Good. Feel some shame, Thomas. Lord knows I have had to bear my share of it.
“I am sorry. What else can I do?” he said.
She strode over to where her glass of wine sat on the floor and picked it up. He flinched as she lifted it.
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t be so crass as to throw wine in your face.
What I would like you to do is to take the horses back home with you and leave me here.
I will return to the abbey later before packing my bag.
In the meantime, could you please ask your stable master to prepare a carriage that can take me to the main coaching inn at Peterborough.
I shall find my own way on from there,” she replied.
“Please.”
“No. I think it best that I leave.”
She followed him to the door of the temple, and as Thomas walked toward the horses, Cecily emptied the remains of the glass of wine over the side of the steps. When she was done, she turned and went back inside.