Lady Cecily and the Mysterious Mr. Gray

by Janice Preston

  ‘What do you think you are about? Why have you followed my mistress here? She doesn’t need your sort of trouble, believe you me.’

  ‘Why do you believe I want to cause trouble for your mistress?’

  She shot him a look brimming with scorn. ‘You don’t fool me. Neither of you fool me. And, believe me, if you cause problems between my lady and his lordship, you’ll have me to deal with.’

  He pushed himself to his feet. His head still felt woozy and his lids had begun to droop, but he could not have her hovering over him like some kind of avenging angel.

  ‘What do you know about Lord Kilburn, Anna?’

  Anna’s eyes widened. ‘Well—nothing.’ Then she rallied. ‘But he is an earl. A gentleman. Not a low-born gipsy like some.’

  ‘Kilburn will not make your lady happy, Anna.’ Weariness wrapped around him, but he needed to warn the maid. ‘He may have been born a nobleman, but he is no gentleman.’

  He sat, abruptly, and closed his eyes in a bid to stop his head spinning. When he opened them again, she was gone.

  * * *

  Cecily did not trust herself to speak. Fury pumped her blood through her veins, but caution prompted her to keep it hidden. She walked silently beside Kilburn—at least he had relinquished his hold upon her arm once they reached the road—and waited to see what he might say. Cecily indicated they should return along the path through the wood and Kilburn raised no objection. He did not speak until the road behind them was lost to sight.

  ‘Your compassion does you credit, Cecily. But I do not understand why you did not simply send your maid to aid the gipsy. You had no need to attend in person.’

  ‘Mr Gray is a Romany. And Anna was with me the entire time. There was no impropriety and no danger.’

  He glanced sideways at her and a frown stitched the skin between his brows. ‘That is not what I asked.’

  ‘I—well, the truth is—’ She caught her lip between her teeth. She could in fact think of no valid reason, but her thinking time had made her conscious of the very real danger that Kilburn might wonder at the coincidence of Zach turning up here, in Oxfordshire. Glimpsed through the trees, the Grange loomed larger with every step.

  Oh, heavens. Whatever will Aunt Drusilla say?

  But that thought spawned an idea.

  ‘The truth is—and I am ashamed to admit it—’ She halted, facing Kilburn. ‘The truth is that my aunt is a demanding tyrant and I grabbed the opportunity to escape her for a few hours. I feigned illness so she would not know I had gone out. There. That is the shameful truth.’

  He searched her expression and she maintained her guileless expression until his frown cleared, although there was still doubt in his eyes. Nevertheless, her pent-up breath released and she felt her shoulders relax.

  ‘As usual, Lady Cecily, you show excellent judgement. I have known your aunt my entire life and any person who must endure her company for longer than half an hour has my sympathy.’

  ‘Like poor Miss Fussell?’

  In one accord, they began walking again.

  He shrugged. ‘At least she has a roof over her head and she is no doubt grateful for it.’

  ‘But she cannot escape the constant demands. Even when poorly, she dragged herself from her bed to satisfy my aunt’s every whim.’ She couldn’t resist the opportunity to goad him, ‘That is why she looks so frail—although you did not seem to notice it when you called.’

  She sensed his quick glance at her.

  ‘Oh, but I did notice it,’ he said, after the briefest of pauses.

  ‘But you specifically commented on how well she looked.’

  ‘I could hardly say I thought she looked ill. That would be unkind, would it not?’

  Cecily did not quite believe him. She suspected a mere companion would be beneath his notice, but did that make him a bad man or was it the typical reaction to be expected of a gentleman in his position? Instead of seeking his faults, mayhap she should try to appreciate his good points if she wished to keep her plan of matrimony alive. She cast her mind back over the events of today. Kilburn had been concerned for her, behaving as any gentleman might in the circumstances—removing her from an inappropriate situation and delivering her back to her aunt’s house. But the manner in which he had done it—no matter the circumstances, there was no excuse for him to manhandle her. And as for his threat to shoot Titan... She glanced at him. Was it an idle threat, made to scare Zach into keeping his animals from straying? Or, more disturbingly, did he mean it?

  She had come to Leyton Grange with the hope of encouraging a further offer from Kilburn, but she was more confused than ever. Could she trust this man?

  She did not allow herself to think of Zach. He was an impossible dream.

  ‘What will you say to your aunt, when you go inside?’

  ‘I still hope I might return to my bedchamber unseen, unless you intend to accompany me inside and expose my deception?’

  Kilburn stopped walking again and took her hand, pulling her around to face him. ‘I am unhappy you have risked your reputation so thoughtlessly, but I shall not tell your aunt—or anyone else—upon one condition.’

  She resisted the urge to tug her hand free. ‘Which is?’

  ‘I heard you tell that gipsy...Romany,’ he amended in response to her frown, ‘that you would bring him more food in the morning. I want your promise that neither you nor your maid will do so. You have done enough.’

  ‘But Mr Gray is still not recovered enough to hunt for food. He needs to eat to regain his strength.’

  ‘Your finer feelings do you credit, my dear, but you worry needlessly. His sort do not suffer in the same way as people of our breeding. However, if it will set your mind at ease, I shall undertake to take him supplies in the morning. And I shall take the opportunity to send him on his way. We do not want his sort loitering around here.’

  What could she say? She could hardly refuse, even though his arrogance infuriated her all over again. How dare he dictate to her like this? Except—if she was honest she could not deny that, again, in his eyes, he was protecting her from herself, as her brothers had always done. At least he had offered to take provisions to Zach.

  ‘I promise.’ Speaking the words brought home the enormity of their meaning. She would never see Zach again.

  A faint smile curved Kilburn’s mouth. His grey eyes were confident as he tipped her chin with his fingers. Nerves knotted her stomach, setting her pulse racing, but not in a good way. Not in the glorious surge of anticipation that had seized her in the seconds before Zach had kissed her. Now, the nerviness and the quickened pulse were urging her to take flight. She swallowed, and relaxed her tight jaw as his head lowered to hers. Cool dry lips settled on her mouth and she did not fight it, but endured, praying he would not prolong the kiss. She had chosen to walk home this way so she would not be spied from the windows of the Grange. She had overlooked the possibility that he might take advantage of their invisibility.

  He gathered her to him as his tongue probed her lips and entered her mouth. And still she allowed it, forcing herself to remain compliant. If he were to be her husband she must become accustomed to him kissing her. And more. She directed her thoughts elsewhere, wondering what her family were doing at this moment.

  Finally he was finished. He raised his head and smiled with smug satisfaction.

  ‘Now, I shall allow you to slip discreetly back into the house,’ he said. ‘And I shall, with your permission, call upon you this afternoon and escort you to the Manor to become reacquainted with the children.’

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  He stepped back and bowed his head. ‘Until later, then, my dear.’

  She watched him ride away, a dismal void inside her. Mayhap a nunnery would be the better solution to her quandary after all? Intimacy with Kilburn held nothing of the appeal and excitement that Zach’s kiss had aroused. Once more, she determinedly switched her thoughts away from Zach. That way lurked madness indeed.

  Cha
pter Thirteen

  He hadn’t dared to hope she would come, but he heard the whisper of her footfall through the grass even before the prick of Myrtle’s ears warned him of someone’s approach. The stir of the dog’s tail confirmed it was friend, not foe. He rose to his feet and stared into the darkness beyond the campfire, knowing he would be fully visible to her. His energy had slowly returned throughout the day until he felt back to normal. So much so that he had bathed in the stream earlier that evening.

  ‘You knew it was me?’ Her voice was hushed, like the night, as she stepped into the circle of light cast by the flames. Her pale dress shimmered in the firelight. Her gaze locked on to his naked chest and the heat in her eyes—flecks of pure emerald sparking in their mossy depths—sent desire spiralling through him. Pure animal lust pooled hot and heavy in his loins.

  ‘I hoped. And Myrtle knew.’

  She hesitated then and he could see her uncertainty. He went to her and halted before her, willing his hands to remain at his sides. There were things to say before he touched her. Because once he touched her...

  Her gaze roved his face. ‘You are better?’

  ‘I am.’ He sucked in a breath. ‘Why have you come?’

  A fleeting frown flickered. ‘Should I go?’

  ‘No. That is not what I meant.’

  ‘I came to give you warning.’ She paused.

  ‘About?’

  ‘I cannot come to you tomorrow and neither will Anna. Lord Kilburn intends to bring you provisions and he will order you to leave.’

  Anger twisted his gut. He was a free man. He took orders from no one and he needed no help. Especially not from a bastard like Kilburn. He masked his rage and instead he simply shrugged.

  ‘This is not his land.’

  She frowned fully now. ‘You and I both know that will not stop him evicting you. I have brought you more food. You should leave before Kilburn comes. It is not worth the risk that he will remember you from...from...before.’

  He heard the question in her voice, but he ignored it. She wanted to know. He was not ready to tell, not ready for his secrets and his shame to be exposed.

  ‘And if I choose to stay?’

  She placed her hand on his chest and his breath caught at her touch. ‘I do not want you to get hurt.’

  Zach stared over her head into the darkness, remembering. She could have no concept of how much he had already been hurt. He felt again the searing agony as the red-hot iron pressed against his buttock; smelled again the stench of burning flesh. His mother’s screams shrieked through his memory. His half-brother, Thetford, and his men, holding him down. And Thetford’s close friend, Kilburn—who had helped Thetford make Zach’s life a misery throughout his boyhood—wielding the branding iron with relish, treating a boy no better than the beasts in the field, branding him with the letter G, laughing at his tears and his pain.

  No wonder his mother had insisted they leave. No wonder she had sought sanctuary with her own family. No wonder he had chosen to continue with this life rather than return.

  Seeing Kilburn again had brought it all back.

  Bitter rage swirled deep inside, but he knew he must let it go. What was done was done. Revenge would change nothing.

  Sheer male pride prevented him from telling her the truth. He could not reveal his shame...his weakness...his failure...to his perfect lady. She had already seen him weak and sick. He could not bear for her to see him as a victim as well.

  ‘I promised his lordship I would not come here tomorrow. I made no promise about tonight. I needed to be sure you are well. I wanted to say goodbye.’ She smiled. ‘Again.’

  He touched her now, cupping her chin, capturing her gaze.

  ‘Is that all, my dove?’

  He registered the movement of her pale throat as she swallowed. ‘No.’

  She stepped closer and the warmth radiating from her skin caressed him as her scent filled him. She was sweet apple blossom, warm sunshine, desire and need.

  ‘He kissed me.’

  Three simple words, but their impact was akin to a knife in his heart. ‘Then why are you here?’

  She ignored his question. ‘He will call at the Grange tomorrow and I suspect he will make his offer.’

  ‘And what will your answer be?’

  ‘I am still undecided.’ She turned from him and he saw her shoulders tremble. ‘He took me to meet his children today.’

  He waited, sensing her inner struggle.

  ‘Thomas—Kilburn’s son—he is confident. Strong. But the two little girls—Kilburn has no patience with their timidity. They need a mother.’

  ‘But that is no reason to wed a man, especially not a man like Kilburn. What about you and your needs? What about what you want?’

  He reached out and caressed her shoulders. She leaned back into him, for a fleeting moment, before spinning to face him again.

  ‘It is not just because of the children. I cannot end up like my aunt’s companion. I simply cannot.’

  ‘But you will not be poor. You will be in your brother’s home.’

  He cupped her shoulders again, but she shook him away and paced to the far side of the fire.

  ‘I know that is the case now. But in thirty years’ time? Forty? The person I am now will be lost in the past—forgotten in the bustle of family life. To future generations I will simply be a distant great-aunt who is fortunate enough to live in their home. And I shall feel myself obliged to prove my usefulness. And, before you suggest it, I cannot bear the thought of living alone, with maybe a companion of my own. I cannot bear to think of my life and my identity—my purpose—dwindling and fading into nothing, living in the hope that every knock on the door heralds a visitor.’ Her fierce gaze pierced him. ‘I want—I deserve—more than that.’

  He went to her. ‘You deserve everything, my perfect lady.’ A lump swelled in his throat as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. ‘If only I were the man able to give it to you.’

  If only there was a way...

  Her eyes, glinting green in the light of the flames, softened. ‘In another life, mayhap,’ she whispered and rose on her toes, and pressed her lips to his.

  For an instant, he succumbed. Then he gripped her shoulders and set her back, away from him.

  ‘Did you enjoy his kiss?’ The words tore out of him, angry and rough. But he didn’t care. Jealousy was a novel emotion for him. He could not bear the thought of any man touching her. Having the right to kiss her, fondle her, swive her. His fingers flexed, biting into her soft flesh.

  Her eyes widened. ‘No. I did not.’

  He continued to search her expression.

  ‘Have I shocked you? Coming here like this?’

  As he went to answer her, she put her fingers to his lips. ‘Shush. Do not say anything. I want to kiss you again. I want to know how I should feel—how I could feel. I want the memory of you in my future.’

  A deep groan tore at his throat and he pulled her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her as though he would never let her go. How he yearned to keep her with him for ever. She melted against his body, every delicious hot, soft curve cushioned against him. His blood scorched through his veins as he plundered her mouth, tasting her sweetness, exploring, sinking deeper and deeper under her spell.

  He stroked and caressed her, some distant corner of his mind registering that she wore no corset. He traced the delicate bones of her spine and the ladder of her ribs, down past the dip of her waist, then cupped her bottom, succulent as a ripe peach. His blood surged anew, driven by the thumping heat of desire and he flexed his hips, trying to ease the almost painful throb of his erection.

  God, how I want her.

  The agony of wanting her and of not having her threatened to break his control. He released her bottom to caress her smooth, delicate fingers before sliding his palms up her silken arms to her neck. Cupping her face to hold her still, he plundered her soft mouth, tongues tangling, breathing in her honey-sweet breath. Seemingly of their own vo
lition his hands moved to her lush breasts, caressing and squeezing, and teasing her taut nipples until she moaned into his mouth.

  Reality impinged.

  She said a kiss. Can she know where this could lead?

  He tore his lips from hers. ‘You should go.’

  She grabbed his head, one hand each side, and kissed him fiercely.

  ‘No.’ Her tantalising breath whispered across his sensitised lips and he seized her mouth once more, losing himself in her.

  His perfect lady.

  * * *

  Cecily plunged her hands through Zach’s locks, relishing the smooth slide of his curls between her fingers. She buried deep any whisper of doubt. There was just this moment in time. This perfect moment, with its promise of delights she had never before experienced. The promise of passion. The future would happen, come what may, but now—here—was about her listening to her heart. It was about admitting the love she felt for this man and expressing that in more than words, even though it went against every single precept of her upbringing.

  Tomorrow could take care of itself.

  She pressed closer, committing to memory the feel of his solid yet supple contours. She stroked the heavy muscles of his shoulders and arms, tracing the rock-hard bulges and indentations as his muscles flexed. He was so big. So strong. All male. She traced the landscape of that perfect chest, that same glorious sensation she remembered from before gathering between her thighs.

  Delicious anticipation. Urgent promise.

  He swung her into his arms and carried her to his pallet, following her down, lying full-length beside her, half-covering her, and their kiss turned even more hot and demanding as his tongue plunged into her mouth and then withdrew, only to penetrate her again, the visceral rhythm driving her wild. His hard thigh pushed between hers and she squirmed at the delicious pressure, unconsciously tilting her hips, frantic to ease that place between her legs where all these new, exciting sensations coalesced in a vortex of need.

  Zach softened the kiss then, easing back, and she felt his smile just before his lips slid to her ear. His tongue probed and she squirmed with delight, then his lips were on her neck...her collarbone...and he tugged at her neckline to expose her breasts.