Chapter 14
Fourteen
After he'd gone, Nicoll rushed to her set of rooms and slammed the door behind her before she threw herself onto her bed and cried into her pillow.
How had her request gone so badly?
She had been careful not to claim an affection because she was certain that would have sent him running from her home.
It turned out, that didn’t matter because he did not want her. He might enjoy kissing her…
Or were the kisses for another reason entirely?
Cecil likely knew that she was unable to financially pay for his representation. Was he simply being kind and claiming that kisses were payment?
Humiliation flooded her body. She had thought they were becoming friends. She thought they shared an attraction, which is why she had asked him to seduce her.
Oh, what a fool she had been.
Why should he want her? She was an inexperienced innocent. He liked lightskirts and widows.
Well, it was unlikely he would return so at least she would never have to face him again and thankfully; the ship would sail in only a few days. The further they sailed from England the sooner she could put Cecil Claxton from her mind and banish him from her heart.
Nicoll spent the rest of the day and evening in her set of rooms claiming a headache or exhaustion from worry about what Redford may do and fear he would stop them before they left.
It was not a lie, because those concerns were always in the back of her mind.
Hovering over her like a dark cloud. And, as the night grew late and after her sisters retired, Nicole stood in her darkened bedchamber and looked out the window at the back of the house.
She had not bothered to go downstairs because she did not expect to see Cecil Claxton in her home ever again.
Cecil spent the whole of the day in a temper and when he finally returned to his set of rooms at the Albany, had poured himself a deep glass of brandy.
He should be exhausted because he had only tossed and turned after he had returned from Nicoll’s. Maybe he should have seduced her. Then at least his body would have been sated. Except, that would have only reduced what they shared to no more than temporary lovers and he had wanted more.
Worse, he had fallen in love with a woman who did not return his affection, and maybe that was what hurt the most.
She had insulted him. She had treated him as if his body was nothing more than to be used for her pleasure.
Did he mean nothing more to her than a rake who could help her discover pleasure? Is that all she thought of him. A man to kiss and seduce?
He had far better qualities and he certainly had more value than what she had reduced it to.
Cecil wasn't just insulted but he was angry, and he would remain in this state until he told Nicoll exactly what he thought of their earlier conversation.
He drained the contents from his glass then set it on the table with enough force to cause a crack.
He then left his set of rooms, and aware that the man who watched his comings and goings followed, Cecil made his way to a gaming hell not far from Nicoll’s home.
He waited, just out of sight, but looking out the window until the man left.
This had been his pattern over the past sennight.
He always went somewhere that would likely keep him within for hours and as soon as the man left, confident that Cecil was not sneaking off to see Nicoll, he slipped out the back and did exactly that.
Still keeping to the shadows, he made his way to the back of her house but paused when he noted that there were no lights on in the parlor. The draperies were not even closed.
Had she assumed that he would not return?
Though, given the circumstances, he hadn’t thought he would be back either. However, he was not leaving now because he needed to tell Nicoll exactly what he thought of her proposal and what she had said to him.
He braced his hands on the window and lifted, relieved to find that it hadn’t been locked, though it concerned him that someone could enter her house so easily, thus he would warn her about that, but only after he explained his irritation.
He had just gotten one leg over the windowsill when Nicoll entered, wearing only her nightclothes and carrying a small candle.
“What are you doing here?” she asked quietly
Cecil closed the window then straightened and planted his fist on his hips. “I would like a word with you.”
“Yes, of course,” she murmured.
“Do you realize that I am more than a rake?”
“You are a barrister as well.”
“I am a man with interests far beyond brandy, work and lifting a woman’s skirt.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Gambling? I was not aware.”
“You insulted me,” he informed her with no warmth in his tone whatsoever because what she had said still pained him. “You have reduced me to nothing more than someone to be used for pleasure.”
She frowned, dark eyebrows drawing together over her straight nose. How could she not know the hurt she had caused?
“I find it difficult to understand that you would find that offensive. You have never objected to your reputation previously.”
“Well, I do not like it. I have more value than what you have assigned me.”
“Yes. You are a barrister who is helping me with a difficult situation, which I very much appreciate.” She then straightened and lifted her chin.
“I also realize that you have no interest in what I suggested, therefore, perhaps we can pretend that it never happened. I will be gone soon, and I am certain that I, too, will be forgotten.”
“I never said I was not interested!” he practically yelled. “I just did not care for the way you viewed me as if I was a means to satisfy a curiosity and given my reputation would suit your purposes.”
“I certainly meant no insult.”
“Well, I was insulted,” he insisted as his anger quickly dissipated. “I suppose I had hoped that you saw that I was more than my reputation.”
“But, Cecil, I do.”
Her tone was soft, as were her eyes. Had he misunderstood her intentions?
Was it foolish to hope that they may be not only of the same mind and body, but heart as well?
“Have no doubt that I want you, Nicoll. And, if our circumstances were different, I would have no hesitation in seducing you over and over, especially since you are wearing nothing but your nightclothes, which are quite easy to remove.”
She sucked in a breath as her face turned crimson.
“You came to me for assistance. You are in a vulnerable position because of your cousin, and for that, you need me. You are innocent and I fear that you will regret our intimacy once you are free and away from here.”
He stepped forward and took her hands in his.
“You have come to mean too much and I would not take advantage of you in this situation.”
“A true rake would,” she whispered, but he noted the teasing in her tone.
“Then maybe I am reforming.” He chuckled, except, his words rang true in his heart. And he shouldn’t be surprised. When a rake finds love, the reformation begins.