Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Thomas mounted his own horse and, taking the reins of Cecily’s mount, rode away from the temple. He chanced a glance back over his shoulder as he turned into the lane, but Cecily was nowhere to be seen.
“You are a first-class fool. I don’t know any man who could have made a bigger mess of things than you just did,” he muttered.
Cecily was right to be angry with him. His clumsy attempt at seduction had blown up in his face. He had not thought her an easy target, nor had he known that she was no longer an innocent. He had simply wanted to hold her.
Kissing her and taking her in his arms had felt so right, a natural progression from the connection they had established over the previous days. A connection he now understood he had seriously overestimated.
Hours from now, Cecily would be gone from Rosemount Abbey, and with her departure would also go the chance of securing her heart.
“Is it any wonder you are not married? If that is the way you go about trying to woo a woman? Thomas Rosemount, you will die a lonely old bachelor.”
At the stables, he handed over the reins of the horses, not bothering to explain why Lady Cecily was not with him.
Only hours before, he had left the abbey with high hopes for a pleasant day with her and the wish of a kiss to seal their budding romance.
But now his plans lay in tatters. And it was all his own fault.
Inside the house, he went upstairs to his bedroom. He threw himself down on the bed and rolled over onto his back. He swore so loudly at the ceiling that he would not have been surprised to see the paint peel.
With one last curse, he sat up. He had forgotten to ask the stable master to prepare a carriage for Cecily’s departure. Halfway to the door he stopped. If there was no carriage to take her to Peterborough, she could not leave Rosemount Abbey. It was miles to walk.
It was a risk, a dangerous one if she wanted to make a fuss about being held at the abbey against her will. He knew enough about her to know that Cecily would never be one to go quietly if she had set her mind against something.
He rubbed his hand over the dark stubble on his chin and pondered the situation. Wooing and seduction were not going to get him anywhere; he had made an unholy mess of that already.
Letting her go was also not an option. She was exactly the woman he needed in his life. She would make the perfect future viscountess. And the perfect wife.
He had to find something to offer her that was better than the uncertain future which lay ahead of her if he let her leave.
What was it that Cecily yearned for? What would make her want to stay?