The Devil's Own Luck (Once a Spy)

by Diana Douglas

The butler was a tall, slender, very dignified looking man with gray at his temples. He bowed formally and said in appropriately respectful tones, “Welcome to your new home my lord and lady. My name is Winston and I am at your service.”

  Rosie opened her mouth to say something but Cecelia squeezed her hand and shook her head.

  “Thank you, Winston.” Rand nodded at the line of servants.

  “Mrs. Brice, the housekeeper,” Winston intoned. The short plump woman curtsied and the butler continued on until everyone down to the scullery maid had been introduced.

  Rand frowned slightly. “Where’s Whitley?”

  “The roof to one of the barns on the east side collapsed and Mr. Whitley deemed it necessary to see that the animals were safely moved to another shelter.”

  Rand nodded with approval. “And the man of affairs?”

  “Mr. Henley will arrive tomorrow afternoon, my lord. He is coming from your Cornwall estate.”

  “Good enough. We would like to settle in. It’s been a tedious journey.”

  Rand picked up Rosie and put his hand at the small of Cecelia’s back. “Come along m’dear,” he drawled in her ear. “It’s time to take a look at our new home.” They entered the massive double doors held open by two footmen. The entrance hall rose a full three stories with curving, mirror-image, mahogany staircases leading to a gallery on the second floor. The sun shot through high windows illuminating an enormous crystal chandelier directly overhead. Cecelia had to remind herself not to gawk.

  Rosie wriggled impatiently in his arms and Rand set her down. David pulled away from Cecelia and the two children took off toward the staircases.

  “Oh, blast. What was I thinking?” The marquis of Clarendon caught up with them in three long strides and grabbed them by their collars. “Where exactly do you think you're going?”

  “The banisters, Thomas,” Rosie explained. “There’s one for each of us.”

  “You are not permitted to slide down the banisters. It’s far too dangerous.” He brought them back to Cecelia. “Stand right here,” he ordered. “I will be back in a minute and if I find that you’ve moved so much as an inch you’re in more trouble than you know what to do with. This is a very large house and I will not have you running amuck.” At that he turned and strode outside.

  David’s face scrunched up and for a moment Cecelia wondered if he might cry. But then he pointed at the floor and said, “Chess!”

  At first Cecelia was confused, then she realized he was talking about the black and white marble squares that were prevalent in so many Elizabethan homes. But to a five and six year old who had seen nothing grander than a country house in Hampshire, it would very much resemble a chess board.

  Rosie had been staring at the floor and when she raised her head a look of delight had come over her. “I’m the queen! Davy, you will be a knight and you must do as I say.”

  He shook his head. “No. I wanna be a king.”

  Rosie was taken aback. She was not accustomed to David questioning her command.

  “It’s only fair,” Cecelia said as she tried very hard not to laugh at the expression of disbelief on Rosie’s face. “If you can be a queen, then David can be a king.”

  Rosie put her hands on her hips and scowled but they were saved from further argument when Rand came back inside followed by Ella, Bobby and one of the upstairs maids.

  “It’s time for you two to go upstairs to the nursery,” he announced. “They’ll bring you tea and you can help put away the toys you brought. And don’t touch anything on the way up.”

  “But we’re to play chess,” Rosie protested. “I’m to be the queen.”

  He waved his hand at the stairs. “You can play chess upstairs.”

  “We can’t play chess upstairs.” Her lower lip protruded and she crossed her arms.

  Rand’s eyes darkened.

  “The floor,” Cecelia said softly.

  He glanced down and frowned.

  “The black and white tiles,” she added.

  Comprehension dawned. “You may come down tomorrow to play,” he said in a no nonsense tone. “But for now, you go upstairs.”

  Neither child looked happy about their orders but did as they were told.

  “I’ll come up to see you this evening before dinner,” Cecelia called out after them. Laughing, she turned to Rand. “I believe we’ve just had a first. Rosie told David what to do and he said no. Had you not come in when you did there might have been a tussle.”

  “Mmm. I wonder who would have won. David’s a bit bigger but I can’t see Rosie backing down.” He glanced over her shoulder to see Mrs. Brice waiting patiently. “We should probably go upstairs, as well. You look as if you could use a nap,” he murmured in Cecelia’s ear. Then louder, “Mrs. Brice, would you show us to our chambers?”

  She curtsied. “Yes, milord. Please follow me.” Their chambers were located on the third floor and as they passed various salons, chambers and sitting rooms, Mrs. Brice cheerfully identified each one. But when she threw open the double doors to the sitting room that separated their bedchambers she let out a gasp of dismay. A thin, elderly woman with snow white hair drawn into a bun and pale blue eyes sat on a straight-backed chair. Her skirts were carefully arranged, her hands were folded were in her lap and she appeared not a whit disconcerted to have been discovered in someone else’s chambers.

  “Miss Mae,” Mrs. Brice scolded as she reached for the bell pull. “You mustn’t be here. These rooms are for Lord and Lady Clarendon.”

  Miss Mae smiled sweetly. “I was told the marquis had arrived.” Still smiling, she looked at Rand and Cecelia. “I didn’t realize he was bringing company. Are you friends of Teddy?”

  “I do apologize, milord,” the housekeeper broke in quickly. “Miss Mae sometimes gets a bit befuddled. This won’t happen again.”

  Rand waved his hand at her as if it were no matter then bowed to the elderly woman. “Miss Mae. My name is Thomas Danfield and this is my wife Cecelia. We are the new Lord and Lady Clarendon and are most pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  She shook her head. “Oh no, young man. I believe you must be confused. Teddy is Lord Clarendon. And I did want to see him. It’s been ages. Could you send for him?”

  “Miss Mae,” the housekeeper said gently. “Teddy--Theodore Brooks died over thirty years ago.”

  Miss Mae’s blue eyes widened in surprise. “But dear, he can’t be dead. If Teddy had passed on, someone would have told me by now. You must be confused.” She turned her attention back to Rand. “Young man, my eyes aren’t what they used to be but I must say that you’re very handsome.” She smiled serenely at Cecelia. “And you my gel. You’re quite the looker, as well. Though some men might find you too tall. I’m tall. Always liked being tall.” Her eyes traveled critically from the top of Cecelia’s head to her toes. “And you’ve excellent carriage. You can tell a lot about a person by their carriage.”

  Cecelia was both bewildered and amused. She simply said, “Yes, ma’am.”

  The pale blue eyes were suddenly shrewd. “Who are your people?”

  “My father is the Earl of Stratton. My mother’s father was the Viscount of Asbury.”

  “And you my boy?” She looked directly at Rand.

  He grinned boyishly at her. “I fear my family is in trade ma’am. Danfield Shipping & Enterprises. But Lady Cecelia was gracious enough to ignore that shortcoming and marry me anyway.”

  “Good. Good.” She nodded her head. “Very sensible of her if you ask me. Too much inbreeding comes from aristocracy marrying aristocracy. It causes idiocy, you know. They’ll all be idiots if they continue.”

  Rand made a strangled sound and Cecelia pressed her lips together very hard to keep from breaking into laughter.

  The housekeeper was ashen. It took a moment for her to find her voice. “Miss Mae, you mustn’t say such things. What will Lord and Lady Clarendon think?”

  Miss Mae rose slowly from her chair. As she’d claimed, she was quite tall a
nd her carriage was amazingly erect for a woman of her age. “Well,” she said to the housekeeper. “I’m rather tired and should like to return to my chambers.”

  A relieved Mrs. Brice came forward to take her arm. “If you’ll just wait a moment, Miss Mae. Someone should be here any minute to take you back.”

  “Bah! I’m perfectly capable of finding my chambers on my own. I came without assistance. I can return without assistance.” She took a few steps toward the door to prove her point. “Good day, children.”

  Mrs. Brice dipped a quick curtsy. “If you will excuse me, milord, milady. She tends to wander. I must see that she’s returned to her companion.”

  Rand waved her on. Cecelia waited until the two women had left the room before turning to him. Her eyes were bright and she was laughing. “That was interesting. Who on earth is Miss Mae?”

  Grinning, he said, “I’d forgotten about her. Mansfield told me she was a distant relative. She’s lived here for some time.” He chuckled. “Outspoken old bird, isn’t she? I’m not certain she’s as befuddled as she appears to be.”

  “Well, I’m glad to know she approves of our marriage even though you're in trade,” she said. “And I thought she was great fun. I wonder if she comes down to dinner.”

  “I would imagine it’s discouraged.” Rand had wandered over to a curio cabinet and was gazing at the knick-knacks displayed inside. He turned around and said, “So. What do you think of our home?”

  “Based on what we’ve seen, I think it’s beautiful. Though it feels very odd to realize that this is my home but I don’t know where anything is or who our neighbors might be. After tea, I should like a tour.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Rand strode over and opened it and found Winston.

  “I came to see if there was anything you needed and to offer my apology, as well. We will take pains to see that Miss Mae doesn’t disturb you any further. Miss Halston, her companion, normally keeps a close eye on her but on occasion she manages to slip away.”

  “I would imagine that if Miss Mae takes a notion to do something, three companions couldn’t stop her," Rand said. "Lady Clarendon found her entertaining and was wondering if Miss Mae comes down to dinner.”

  For a fraction of a second the butler's eyes widened. “Oh no, my lord. She takes her meals in her quarters. It seems to work best that way. Your baggage is being brought up at present. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “If you would bring a tea tray to the sitting room. And port.” He pulled out his fob watch and checked the time. “About five we should like a tour of the house. And supper at eight.”

  “Very good.”

  He closed the door and realized that Cecelia was no longer in the sitting room. “Cecelia? Where did you disappear to?”

  “I’m in here,” she called out.

  He went through the open door that led to one of the two bed chambers. Cecelia had tossed her hat on the floor, plopped herself down on the bed with arms flung out and legs dangling over the side. “This is your bed chamber. It’s rather somber, don’t you think? I peeked into my room first. It’s done with gold and green tulle and is ever so much nicer. But your bed looked more comfortable.”

  “Is it?”

  “Wonderfully so.”

  Rand glanced around the room. The furnishings were heavy and dark. The bed and window drapes, a deep blue velvet. There was an obvious lack of any kind of personal items and the overall effect was dreary. But the long limbed girl with the bright copper hair, tilted green eyes and shining face who looked up at him was brimming with life and energy. She was like a bright light in a dark sea and he was shocked to realize how much he cared for her. And how much he needed her. He leaned against the door frame and gazed at her a moment. “I beg to differ. No room with you in it can ever be somber.”

  A smile slowly crossed her face. “Thank you. That was a very sweet thing to say.”

  He returned her smile and shrugged. “It’s true.” He closed the door behind him and checked above the doorframe for a key. “Ah, good.” He locked the door and left the key in the lock. Then he went to the door that led to the dressing area and did the same.

  Laughing, she pushed herself up on her elbows. “What are you doing?”

  “Locking the doors.”

  “I see that. Why are you locking the doors?”

  “I don’t want the servants to walk in on us. They’ll be bringing up our baggage any minute now and Davis and Mattie will be in our dressing rooms putting things away. And I did ask Winston to bring a tea tray to the sitting room.” He came over and sat on the bed beside her and began bouncing up and down.

  “Now what are you doing?”

  “Testing for squeaks and other noises.” He laughed at the expression on her face. “I’m about to make love to you and I thought you might be embarrassed if the servants could hear the bed. Some are a bit creaky, you know. Fortunately, this one is rather substantial and not particularly noisy. And as you said, very comfortable.”

  Her eyes widened. “But I make noise. At least you told me I do. Personally, I think you made it up.”

  “I like the noises you make. As long as you’re moaning and screaming I know that you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “I may moan, but I refuse to believe I scream.”

  “You scream beautifully. Now scoot over in the middle.”

  She did as he asked but grumbled, “I don’t see why I should be the one to move. I was perfectly comfortable where I was.”

  He grinned as he slipped a hand under her skirt and ran it up the inside of her leg, stopping a few inches shy of where he knew she actually wanted him to be.

  She stared at him a moment then scooted down a bit until his fingers touched the soft, warm flesh between her legs. She bit down on her lower lip. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath. It almost killed him to keep still.

  “Wretch. Must I do your part as well as my own?” She wiggled against him and that was it. He pushed her skirt, petticoat and shift up around her waist. She wore brown kid half boots and silken stockings tied with garters just above her knees. Then there was an expanse of long, well shaped thighs, then the triangle of copper curls and her flat, white belly. He ran his hands up the inside of her thighs and they fell open. She was completely exposed to him, completely trusting and he couldn’t imagine ever growing tired of bedding this delightful creature who was also his wife. He unfastened his breeches, freed himself, knelt between her legs and slipped inside her with one easy thrust. Resting the bulk of his weight on his forearms, he slowly withdrew until he’d almost left her. They could hear the sound of something heavy being moved in the next room. He smiled lazily and whispered, “Did you hear that? They’ve brought up the trunks. They’re not twenty feet away from us. Should I make you scream?”

  “I don’t scream.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him against her until he was submerged again. He pulled away slowly again until she stopped him with her legs and forced him to return deep inside her. Eyes locked they continued to make love in this languorous fashion; the need to be quiet somehow intensifying the experience. Even when the intensity built he kept his movements slow and deliberate. And when he knew she was almost at her peak he slipped his hand between them and touched her soft flesh. His mouth covered hers with a deep penetrating kiss before she could utter a sound. She held his hips tightly not allowing him to move as she ground herself against him. He could feel the throbbing of her flesh around him and could hold back no longer. He spilled into her with his own glorious release.

  When his head cleared, it occurred to him that if she wasn’t breeding soon, it wasn’t for lack of trying. He prided himself on being a good lover. He had always tried to bring fulfillment to his partners and for the most part he was successful. But he’d never been with a woman who enjoyed making love as much as Cecelia did. She was touchingly honest about her need for him. And they seemed so in tune with one another, knowing where to touch, when to shift just so. Yet t
he ability came naturally, not from experience. It had been there the first time they made love. He could anticipate her reaction almost as if when they joined bodies something deeper inside was joined as well. Their souls? Where the devil did that come from? He shook his head as if to shake the idea from his mind. Romantic nonsense. Byronesque even. No, he wouldn’t try to understand it. He would accept and enjoy it and leave it at that.

  He slid his fingertip down her forehead to the tip of her nose. Her eyes were closed and a crescent of red blond lashes rested on her cheeks. She was breathing deeply and evenly and wore a look of calm contentment look on her face. He smiled. She had fallen asleep.

  He rose from the bed and fastened his breeches. She mumbled something incoherent and rolled over on her side. Her skirts were still hiked up around her waist and she was treating him to a view of a nicely rounded backside. It was a fetching sight but not one for the servants to see. He pulled her skirts down and removed her half-boots. He chuckled softly. She was actually about to sleep through tea time. But that meant that she would be ravenous and grumpy by supper. If he had an ounce of self preservation he’d snatch a few pastries from the tea tray to set aside before that happened. “Sleep well,” he murmured then went in search of his port.

  Chapter Eleven

  With over thirty bedchambers, three kitchens, two ballrooms, an immense dining hall that could easily seat a hundred, another which could by no means be considered small, a breakfast room, salons, drawings rooms, a laundry, a still room, servant’s quarters large enough to accommodate up to seventy servants, a vast wine cellar and a sundry of other chambers, their tour of Fenton Abbey was by no means complete in the time Rand had allowed. Most of the rooms had been closed off and their furnishings hidden beneath Holland covers, but at the end of their grand excursion Lord and Lady Clarendon were pleased with what they had seen. Fenton Abbey was impressive.

  Not that there weren’t improvements to be made. There was water damage in the west wing and the roof needed repairs. The smaller of the two ballrooms had been gutted years ago and was now used as storage. Windows needed to be replaced, floors needed refinishing, a number of the rooms needed to be repainted and papered. Drapes need to be replaced. The nursery lacked the cheeriness of the nursery at Danfield House, but Cecelia thought it could be brightened up with a coat of paint and colorful curtains. There was much to be done, but overall there was nothing of vast undertaking that needed immediate attention and Cecelia had to admit she was greatly relieved. She wanted to get her bearings as mistress of the household before taking on any major projects.