Chapter 22
“Thank you, Cecily,” Lilian said as she snuggled down into her bed with a yawn that night. “Miss Osborne said I should thank you.”
Cecily sat down beside her stepdaughter on the bed.
Although she had insisted that Lilian stay inside today to reflect on her naughtiness, she did not want the child to feel ostracized or unloved.
After dismissing the nursemaids and governess early for the night, she had come upstairs to get Lilian ready for bed herself.
“Did she say what for?” she asked gently, stroking the little girl’s long dark hair that she had brushed and plaited neatly only a few minutes ago.
“I didn’t quite understand,” Lilian replied with a frown. “I think it was because you didn’t get me into trouble with Papa. But I wouldn’t care because I can shout as loud as he can and I can kick him and hit him, but he’ll never hit me. He would never, ever hurt me.”
“Oh, Lilian,” Cecily sighed, wondering quite where to begin on that tangled and unfortunate knot of child logic. “You shouldn’t hit your father, you know, or anyone else.”
“It doesn’t hurt him,” Lilian objected. “He’s too big and strong. No matter what I do, nothing hurts him.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Cecily demurred. “Your father is a human being with feelings like everyone else.”
Or at least she sometimes thought he was. At others, it would be all too easy to believe what Lilian had just said.
“Do you know why your father would never hurt you, Lilian?” Cecily continued, and the little girl shook her head. “It’s because he loves you so much and because he’s a good man.”
“Do you think so?” Lilian asked curiously, her big blue eyes widening.
“I know it,” Cecily sighed.
Yes, she knew that much about Nathaniel, if nothing else.
She was beginning to see that he had done his best for his daughter, but his best had unfortunately been all in the wrong direction, having no experience of being parented himself.
He lacked neither heart nor principle, although he seemed loath to admit to either.
“Goodnight, Lilian. Goodnight, Buster.”
After kissing Lilian’s forehead and patting the little dog where he lay in his basket by the door, Cecily left the room and slowly made her way down the corridor toward the stairs, her mind preoccupied with the confusion and contradictions of Nathaniel.
Why was he so determined not to care? What was he hiding from?
That remained a mystery.
But she was not really in a position to accuse him of hiding from anything. She herself had been hiding from him all day since their encounter in the study, not because it had been bad but because it had been so good and so far beyond her experience.
Cecily felt hot and shy even thinking about those strange minutes in the study. When he had first announced that he was going to spank her, she had wondered whether she ought to be afraid, but her body’s trust in him had been greater than her fear.
What he had done had been no punishment, but another of those bedroom games of whose existence she had been unaware until she met him.
How easily he seemed able to bend her to his will at certain times and yet how carefully he exercised this power. Despite his apparent control of the situation, every moment of that encounter in the study had somehow been for her pleasure more than his.
Thinking of his pleasure, Cecily wondered again why he had not yet deflowered her despite having every opportunity. It was certainly not for a lack of desire on either side. She was well aware of the intensity of his ardor, having felt it pressing against her several times.
Nor could he be deceived about the depth of her longing. She could feel it in the racing of her heart, the quickening of her breath, and the surging of her blood. It was also in the tingling of her skin and the slickness between her thighs. Nathaniel seemed fully aware of all of that.
There was still half an hour before dinner, yet she would have no choice but to sit across from him at the dinner table.
Part of her was relieved that Mary and Patrick would be there too, for their presence would ease the tension despite their bickering. But another part would not be sorry if they both stayed in their rooms and Nathaniel sent away the servants and ordered her to bend over the table…
* * *
Mary was in the hallway when Cecily came downstairs, a rather worried expression on her face and a letter in her hand.
“There you are, Cecily. I was going to come and find you before dinner.”
“I was just putting Lilian to bed. What is the matter?”
Mary held out the letter to her, and Cecily took it and carried it into the large front drawing room, where the light was still good at this hour.
“It’s from Grandmother,” Mary told her. “She wants to meet us and talks of wanting to mend bridges with her only granddaughters. What should we do? She is a very old woman, and I do feel sorry for her after reading that letter, but—”
“You are not going back to that house as long as Grandmother and Uncle Preston live there,” Cecily said flatly. “It isn’t safe. Maybe we could meet her somewhere else, or maybe I could go alone to see her, although I’m not sure I care to. We ought to consult Nathaniel.”
“I already have,” Mary admitted. “When I couldn’t find you, I took it to Nathaniel, and he told me the same thing, although he said it was your decision.”
At that, Cecily sighed and folded the letter back up. That was another classic Nathaniel move, she was realizing.
Was he declining to bother himself with dull and unpleasant relatives, or was he showing respect for her by letting her make important decisions for their family?
Quite likely, it was both.
“I’ll go and speak to him,” she told Mary. “Where is he?”
“In his study,” Mary replied innocently, having no idea of the giddy apprehension that those three words stirred within Cecily. “With Patrick.”
Well, at least Nathaniel is not in there alone.
Cecily walked briskly to the study with the letter in her hand and paused outside, calming the tremors in her hand and the butterflies in her stomach before she knocked and turned the handle.
“Cecily,” Nathaniel greeted her, both men getting to their feet as she entered.
Instinctively, Cecily returned Nathaniel’s warm smile, perhaps for a moment too long, before remembering that Patrick was also in the room.
“I’m sorry to disturb you both. I only wanted to speak to you about this letter before dinner, Nathaniel.”
“Don’t worry,” Patrick replied with good humor. “We’re done, I think.”
The brothers grinned at one another as though they had a secret they longed to share. Cecily couldn’t help smiling with them.
“What is it?” she asked. “You look as though you have received some good news.”
“Not quite yet, but soon, I hope.” Nathaniel laughed. “If all goes well, my brother will soon be a member of one of His Majesty’s finest cavalry regiments.”
“You’re joining the army?” Cecily said incredulously, turning to Patrick. “Why, that’s wonderful, Patrick. It is a fine career.”
“I’m to meet a senior officer in London next week, and if they approve my commission, I’ll be off to order my uniform,” Patrick explained happily. “Shall I leave the two of you alone?”
Cecily’s heart beat frantically at that, and her eyes sought Nathaniel’s and saw the twinkle in them.
“Do stay. You might be needed, actually,” Nathaniel answered, to her disappointment and relief.
She unfolded the letter and glanced briefly again at her grandmother’s hand. “It seems that we both agree that it wouldn’t be wise for Mary to visit my grandmother at Holt House.”
“Absolutely not!” Patrick interjected before Nathaniel could even open his mouth. “Your uncle is a dangerous man.”
“We are all thinking the same thing,” Nathaniel said with some amusement. “What do you propose, Cecily?”
“Do you think it might be safer if Mary and I met Grandmother somewhere else in London? There is no love lost between us, but I do not wish to cut her off entirely.”
Nathaniel leaned back against the mantelpiece.
“Perhaps,” he said laconically, his brow creasing in thought.
“You cannot be serious!” Patrick protested hotly. “Two young ladies alone in London and that brute Holt skulking about with his ghastly ancient bridegroom, waiting for the chance to whisk Mary away.”
“They wouldn’t be alone,” Nathaniel assured him.
“If they go on Tuesday, you can go with them since you are going to the Admiralty anyway. Hobson will drive you, and he’s the local boxing champion around here.
I shall also visit my club that day and will be on hand.
If Holt makes trouble, he’ll be sorry for it. ”
Patrick’s expression shifted quickly from surprised to delighted, then to doubtful, and finally to determined, almost making Cecily laugh at how fast it changed. He was much easier to read than his older brother.
He offered a small bow to Cecily. “Well, of course. I would be honored to escort you and your sister to London, Cecily. No harm will come to Mary while I am there. But Nathaniel, what takes you to your club? You never go there unless there’s some special occasion or other reason.”
“Unless there is,” Nathaniel said evasively with a wave of his hand, yet again shrouding his motivations in smoke and mirrors.
Was he going to London to offer his protection to Cecily and Mary alongside his brother, or just for a good dinner and an evening of gaming? Nothing would make him admit it, but it was more than obvious.
“Thank you, Patrick,” Cecily said. “I do very much appreciate having a brother to call upon in such matters.”
A brother and a sharp-minded, quick-thinking husband who had her best interests at heart, even if he could not admit it.
* * *
“How well you both look,” Lady Holt told her two granddaughters, holding out her cheeks for their kisses, Mary’s reluctant and Cecily’s deliberately cool.
“Married life agrees with you, Cecily. You look five years younger. What roses in Mary’s cheeks, too!
She ought to be married before her bloom fades. ”