The Marquess In Her Bed (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Olivia Bennet

  “My love,” he said, leaning in even closer now, “I am sure that you will be absolutely stunning in anything that you wear. It could be a rough-spun peasant’s dress, and you would still be the most beautiful lady in the room.”

  Cecilia sighed, her voice breathy, “I can’t imagine that the Duchess would approve of my coming to the ball in a rough-spun peasant’s dress.”

  “No doubt my sister has found something that even my mother must approve of,” Nicholas said. “But my only concern is that you are there, at my side.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, hungrily, his mouth seeking to possess hers. Cecilia felt a moan rise in the back of her throat as she leaned in to kiss him back, her mouth opening, and her tongue caressing his.

  Entirely too soon, they heard footsteps approaching. Cecilia sprang back from Nicholas and cast her eyes down at the floor as Billingsley approached them.

  “Pardon me, My Lord,” Billingsley said, looking back and forth from Nicholas to Cecilia, and failing to entirely hide her grin. “If you please, the carriage is ready to take Miss Baxter back home.”

  “Thank you, Billingsley,” he replied, attempting to sound casual, though he was, of course, terribly disappointed. “Miss Baxter, it was a pleasure to see you once again.”

  “A pleasure, My Lord,” Cecilia said with a curtsey, before following Billingsley out to the carriage that would carry her away.

  Nicholas stood in the foyer for a moment after Cecilia left, imagining how attractive she would look dressed in a beautiful gown at Izzy’s debut. He had not been lying when he told her that she would look beautiful in a peasant’s dress, but in truth he found the idea of her dressed in the finest silks and satins incredibly alluring.

  After a few moments, Nicholas walked into the library. He was often drawn to that room when his thoughts turned to Cecilia, and today was no exception. When he entered the room, he saw his sister and Westfield sitting opposite one another near the window, talking to one another in low voices. Isobel’s maid sat quietly on the other side of the room, too far to hear their murmured conversation, but dutifully playing the role of chaperone.

  Nicholas cleared his throat loudly as he entered the room. Both Isobel and Westfield looked momentarily surprised when they realized that he had seen them talking. Westfield mastered his face quickly and greeted Nicholas with a casual smile. Isobel looked away for a moment, and then turned back to her brother with a mischievous smile.

  “How was your visit with Miss Baxter?” Nicholas asked his sister, eager to make normal conversation.

  “It was lovely, Nick!” Isobel replied, seeming equally eager for normalcy. “She is lovely, and I think that we shall be good friends. Unfortunately, Mother was with me when Miss Baxter arrived.”

  “Ah…” Nicholas sighed deeply. “Was she terribly rude?”

  “Not terribly rude, no,” Isobel replied, “but she was rather cold in the way she greeted her. I’ve told Miss Baxter not to worry, as I’m quite certain that Mother will make not more attempts to prevent your marriage, now that you have made it perfectly clear that you will go to any lengths to stop her.”

  “I do hope that you were able to put her at ease. When I saw her just now she seemed quite happy.” Nicholas said, smiling.

  “Of course, she was happy!” Isobel said, smiling from ear to ear. “We have found her the most perfect gown for my debut. She will be absolutely radiant, and no one will spare even a glance for me.”

  “Oh, I highly doubt that, My Lady!” said Westfield. “Everyone will want to see the debutante, and even if it were not your debut, I am sure that you will look quite as lovely as Miss Baxter.”

  “Well,” Isobel said, turning to Westfield and gracing him with a smile, “I must admit that my gown is quite lovely as well.”

  Chapter 27

  One week prior to Lady Isobel’s debut, Cecilia’s father traveled to Huxley Manor to ensure that all of the completed furniture was in place and to make any necessary adjustments. Cecilia had wanted to go with him, but now that she was engaged to the Marquess, her father seemed to think that it would be inappropriate for her to visit his residence as a carpenter rather than a young lady making a social call.

  Archie remained behind in the workshop as well. He said it was to finish some small projects for other clients so that they would be able to focus all of their attention on the Duke of Westfield’s order once Lady Isobel’s debut was completed. Cecilia suspected that, in addition to this, he had offered to stay, at least in part, to keep her company.

  It was true that she was disappointed not to go with her father to Huxley Manor, and Cecilia appreciated Archie’s concern for her, as always. But she felt sure that she would have been fine on her own. She was perfectly capable of distracting herself making wagon wheels and hope chests for families in town.

  As they worked, side by side, Archie chatted to Cecilia about people they knew from town—who was marrying whom, who was expecting a child, and whose child was not really his child. Cecilia had little interest in this kind of talk, but she found the sound of Archie’s voice soothing in its familiarity nonetheless.

  “I suppose that everyone in town will be talking about my engagement to the Marquess of Clive, as well,” Cecilia said, absentmindedly, as she measured some spokes for the wagon wheels they were making.

  “Well, I don’t think anyone knows yet,” Archie said, “at least I haven’t heard anyone talking about it. And I certainly haven’t told anyone.”

  “Why haven’t you told anyone?” Cecilia asked, he always knows the gossip in town, why wouldn’t he share some in return?

  “It is not my news to tell,” Archie replied, simply.

  Cecilia turned to look at him as he worked, and smiled. “Thank you, Archie. I know that everyone will find out soon enough, but I do appreciate not being the subject of gossip just yet, if it can be helped.”

  Archie simply smiled at her and continued working.

  * * *

  Cecilia woke slowly, with a dull ache in the back of her head. Her mind felt groggy and her body felt heavy and weak. Where am I? What is happening? She opened her eyes to find herself in a darkened room, unable to see anything around her.

  While she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, Cecilia took note of what little information her other senses could provide. The air was close and damp, with a musty smell that reminded her of mushrooms after a hard rain. She was lying on a cold, earthen floor, and when she attempted to sit up, she realized that her wrists were bound together in front of her with a length of fabric.

  Cecilia took three deep breaths, in through her nose, and out through her mouth. She willed herself not to panic. If I can keep my wits about me, perhaps I can find a way out of here. She tried once again to move, this time managing to hoist herself into a sitting position, her back against a rough stone wall. Her eyes were beginning to adjust and she could make out the outlines of many barrels. She realized that she must be in a cellar somewhere, the barrels filled with onions, potatoes, apples stored for the winter.

  Leaning back against the wall, she tried to think of how she could have gotten here. The last thing she remembered was talking to Archie in her father’s workshop. The ache in the back of her head throbbed once again, had she hit it on something and been knocked out? Given that I am currently tied up in a strange cellar, I should think it more likely that someone hit me.

  As the throbbing continued, a moan of pain escaped her lips. She was just thinking that perhaps she ought to lie back down and sleep a bit longer when she heard a whispered voice nearby.

  “Cecilia, are you awake?”

  “Archie?” she whispered back, “Is that you? Where are we? What is happening?”

  “I don’t know,” Archie whispered back, “but I promise you that I shall get us out of here.”

  A wave of relief washed through Cecilia’s body. Archie is here, Archie will keep us both safe. As the throbbing in her head intensified, Cecilia drifted back into a restles
s sleep.

  * * *

  Nicholas has spent much of the day with his mother, sister, and future father-in-law, ensuring that every new piece of furniture was exactly as it should be. Mr. Baxter had begun the day somewhat warmer with the Duchess than at their previous meeting, perhaps assuming that the Duchess would consider him practically family now. In fact, she remained as cold and aloof as she ever had been, and Mr. Baxter became progressively more nervous as the day went on.

  Nicholas had hoped that Cecilia would accompany her father to this meeting, but he had come alone.

  “Cecilia is at home,” he said. “I thought that it would be more appropriate if only I came today, My Lord.”

  He had addressed his comment to Nicholas, but looked quickly from him to the Duchess. Nicholas’ mother had looked momentarily amused at this, and then said, sarcastically, “Oh, I quite agree.”

  Despite his disappointment at Cecilia’s absence, and Mr. Baxter’s nervous temperament, Nicholas found that he liked Cecilia’s father nearly as much as he liked Cecilia herself. He asked Mr. Baxter about various elements of the design and construction process for some of the pieces they looked at, and found his answers quite fascinating.

  They concluded their tour in the library, where Mr. Baxter checked to make sure that the bookcase fit perfectly into the space allotted. As with every other piece they had inspected, the bookcase was a perfect fit. Nicholas could not help but be impressed by the skill that went into Mr. Baxter’s work, and of course, Cecilia’s.

  Once they had confirmed that the bookcase was as it should be, Mr. Baxter seemed to linger longer than strictly necessary, checking every possible angle.

  “Well, Mr. Baxter, if that is all, I really must attend to other matters,” the Duchess said.

  “Yes, Your Grace, of course!” Mr. Baxter replied, sounding nervous once again.

  Nicholas’ mother bid them good day and walked out of the library. Once she had left, Mr. Baxter turned to Nicholas and Isobel with an awkward smile.

  “I assumed that I ought not discuss the passageway entrance in front of Her Grace?” he said to them.

  “Miss Baxter told you about that?” Isobel asked.

  “She had not planned to,” he replied, shaking his head and smiling at this, “but when I told her that she could not accompany me today she decided that she had better let me in on the secret.”

  Mr. Baxter had proceeded to attach the small hinges to one side of the bookcase. He then showed Nicholas and Cecilia how this would allow them to easily swing the bookcase out into the room like a door so that they could access the entrance to the passageway.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Nicholas was sitting in the library and reading when he heard a strange sound and looked up from his geometry text. To his surprise, Nicholas saw that the bookcase was moving slowly, as if someone was pushing it from behind.

  Within seconds, the bookcase was several inches away from the wall, and Mr. Baxter emerged, breathless and red in the face.

  “My Lord!” he cried out, sounding terrified. “I am so glad to find you here! Please you must help me! You have to help me find her!”

  “Mr. Baxter!” Nicholas said, feeling a profound dread spreading through him, “What do you mean? What has happened?”

  “When I returned home, Cecilia was gone!” he said. “Please we must go and find her! There is no reason that she would leave, something terrible must have happened. Please there is no time to waste!”

  “What did Mr. Mowbray and your housekeeper say?” Nicholas asked, standing up and moving toward the passageway.

  “Neither of them were there when I arrived. Perhaps something terrible has happened to them as well! Where could they be? What shall we do?”

  Mr. Baxter sounded half crazed with fear. Nicholas felt true terror in his gut, as well. I must keep my head if we are going to find Cecilia before any harm can come to her!

  “Mr. Baxter!” Nicholas said, in a commanding voice he had learned from his father. “We must try to remain calm.”

  “Remain calm?” Mr. Baxter said, dumbfounded. “How can I remain calm when my daughter has disappeared?”

  “We will have the best chance of finding her if we do not lose ourselves to panic,” Nicholas said, trying to keep his voice as steady as he could. “We must make a plan. We must fetch the constable, and learn whether the others are also missing.”

  Chapter 28

  Cecilia was beginning to wake up once again. She had no sense of how much time had passed, since there was no window to let any light in. She moaned slightly—her head was still throbbing, but not as badly as it had been before.

  “Don’t worry, Cecilia,” she heard Archie whisper to her, “I am still here, and I will make sure that you are safe.” He placed his arm around her shoulder, a gesture of comfort.

  Cecilia felt her body relax momentarily, and then tense, sensing that something was wrong an instant before her mind caught up. His hands are unbound.

  Cecilia took a deep breath and focused her mind entirely on keeping her voice steady. “Archie?” she asked, “Why are your wrists not bound, like mine?”

  Cecilia counted seven seconds before Archie responded to this.

  “I…” he said, sounding uncertain. “I was able to, um…loosen the bindings a bit and free myself.”

  “You did not untie me.” Cecilia said, her voice falsely calm. “Why?”

  “Oh!” Archie said, “Yes of course! I should have untied you right away, of course. What was I thinking? I’m terribly sorry that I didn’t think of it right away.”

  He said all of this with his arm still around her shoulder, holding her close to him. He made no move to change his position.

  “Well,” Cecilia said now failing to keep her voice entirely calm, “I shall forgive you for that oversight, if you will untie me now.”

  Archie did not respond to this immediately. Cecilia felt panic rising within her, and fought to remain calm. She knew that she would not make her way out of this cellar if she did not keep her wits about her. But with every second Archie did not respond, her panic rose higher in her chest.

  “Archie?” Cecilia said, desperate to hear him say that, of course, he would untie her. Desperate for him to protect her, like the brother she had always imagined him to be.

  “Cecilia,” Archie said, “I’m sorry, I know that you must be scared. I promise, nothing bad will happen to you.”

  “Nothing worse than being tied up and kept in some strange cellar?” she asked.

  “Nothing worse than that,” Archie agreed, sounding amused. “You see, Cecilia, it’s not that bad is it?”

  Cecilia had no answer to this pronouncement. She did not know where she was, nor how she had gotten there, but she was certain of one thing—Archie is not my friend anymore—perhaps he never was. Carefully, so as not to arouse his suspicion, Cecilia began to wriggle her hands.

  “Where are we?” she asked once again, hoping to distract Archie while she attempted to escape her bindings.

  “We are in a cellar, just like you said, Cecilia,” he replied. “The cellar of my uncle’s house. “He died a few years ago, and his children are grown, so his widow has gone to live with her sister and the house has been empty for some time.”

  Cecilia found that by turning her left wrist inward, she was able to catch one end of the length of fabric binding her. Carefully, she pushed that end inward and felt the binding loosen slightly. She was not able to free her hands, but she could feel blood rushing back to them as the pressure was lessened on her wrists.

  Archie took his arm off of her shoulder and stood up, leaving her to sit on the cold earthen floor. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Cecilia could see Archie’s outline pacing back and forth in front of her as he continued to speak.

  “I am afraid that the house has fallen into a bit of disrepair,” he was saying, sounding quite enthusiastic now. “But we would be able to fix it up easily. I could make this a beautiful home for you, Ceci
lia.”

  I have to keep him talking, if I can do that, perhaps I may be able to escape my bonds without him noticing.

  “What do you mean, a beautiful home for me?” Cecilia asked, holding her hands still as she spoke. Archie had stopped his constant pacing to look at her when she spoke. Once he began to speak again, he resumed his pacing, and Cecilia returned her attention to the bindings on her wrists. They were looser than they had been previously, and she was able to turn her hands from side to side within them now.

  “As I said, the house had been abandoned for some time,” Archie said, sounding quite pleased with himself. “My aunt is eager to be rid of it, and no one else in the family wants it. I was able to convince her that it should pass to me, when I am wed.”