Hearing the familiar sound of chatter in the bedroom, she finished up.
It seemed like old times, and she smiled. She wanted Phebe to be happy here. Could she be? Phebe had been full of unrest since the very first time they'd met her at school. She took a few minutes to try to encourage her, even as she finished getting ready.
Then, she hugged both of the other girls and ran downstairs.
Reckonings
Abel waited alone in the drawing room. He heard her light tread down the staircase outside and his eyes swept over her as she hurried into the room. Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright.
"I'm sorry I'm late! The bell pull didn't work again, and I hurried as fast as I—" She froze in place, as she saw his face.
He motioned to her to come to him. "Cicely? Come here, my beautiful girl."
She moved forward, uncertainly, but was trying to skirt the tea table and stand on the other side. She had miscalculated how quick he was. Abel rose and overtook her, folding her into his arms. A moment later, he held her out from him and searched her eyes. "Have you forgotten that we have some unfinished business this evening?"
She knew what he meant. He could see it in her eyes. She swallowed hard and blinked.
He nodded and lifted her chin. "We'll wait until after dinner. I thought perhaps you'd forgotten."
She hung her head. "You're going to punish me," she said, sadly.
"I told you last night that I would." He kept his voice soft and gentle, but she seemed to find it hard to look at him. He sat down on the sofa and drew her into his lap, tracing her trembling lower lip with his finger. "Sweetheart, my intention isn't to ruin your dinner. But I didn't wish you to forget it, either. Do you understand why we must deal with this?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"You are extremely lucky that I was the one who found you, instead of someone else. Father Michael would have had a heart attack."
"I think I could have talked Father Michael out of being upset with me."
He smiled. "Probably."
She put out a lip in a pout. "But not you. You're too strict, Abel."
"I think not. You need someone who is strict. You're too adorable for your own good."
When she opened her mouth to protest, he put a finger over her lips. "Oh, no. No arguing. This is final. I'll take you out to the stable as soon as dinner is over, and we'll address this. Hear me? And get it out of the way. And then it will be over with and forgotten. Understood?"
She sighed and her shoulders drooped, but she nodded, just as Mrs. Andrews called everyone for dinner.
He studied her face for a moment. He'd been telling the truth when he said she was too adorable for her own good. How he was going to remain as strict with her as he should, he had no idea. But this was indeed what she needed. He kissed her temple and set her on her feet, guiding her into the dining room.
He carefully observed the family he was going to marry into as dinner progressed. The sheriff and his wife, he'd known as long as he could remember; They were obviously still deeply in love with each other. Cicely and Polly, he'd known since the time they were born. He'd watched their antics and troublemaking since they'd been able to walk and had laughed at the way they finished each other's sentences, leaving everyone else in the dark, quite unaware of the effect it had on others. He, too, wondered how they would do apart from each other, when Cicely became his wife and Polly went back to school. His own parents had been delighted when they had heard the news. They adored the girls, especially Cicely.
Phebe was quiet during dinner, as was Cicely, who had only managed to push food around. She was obviously distressed. Polly seemed concerned about her sister; it was impossible not to notice that. But Cicely jumped up as soon as dinner was finished.
"May I help with the dishes, Mother?"
Before her mother could answer, he spoke up. "I think we have something we need to discuss, sweetheart," Abel's look was meaningful, and Cinderella turned, smiling.
"I think it's Phebe's turn tonight, Ciss. And, Polly, you can help, if you like."
Abel excused them and took a lantern with him, leading Cicely outside and around the house toward the stable. Opening the door to the empty bunkhouse, he hung the lantern inside. She was balking, and he drew her to him.
"Cicely? Shall I pick you up? I can."
"No, sir." But her voice sounded uncertain. "I'm coming."
He put a hand to the small of her back, bringing her into the room, and closed the door behind her. Sitting down, he brought her to stand between his thighs. His hands spanned her waist easily. Her heart was racing; he could see the pulsing in her throat and knew she was frightened. Her hands were twisted into her skirts.
She brought her gaze to his, slowly, her face crimson and full of guilt.
"Now. I want to hear what you were thinking, when you went into the courtroom."
She thought. "Phebe asked when we were at lunch if she could see the courthouse. She said she was considering going home early and wanted to see where you worked before she left."
He frowned down into her eyes. "That's the truth?"
She nodded. "That's what I was thinking when we went in."
"And then?"
"And then, we were all standing there, and it was quiet. And she started acting out the skit that we did in school before the new students who came in, and it just sort of went…from there."
"Where did the cigar come from?"
"She brought it with her. And a tin of matches. She said it was her father's."
Abel stared down at her for a moment. "Are you trying to tell me this was all Phebe's doing?"
Cicely frowned and then shook her head. "No, sir. I didn't have to take it."
"Who lit it?"
"She did, but I took it and inhaled and…and blew smoke rings."
Abel pressed his mouth together in an effort to remain serious.
"Smoke rings."
"Yes, sir. And played the part of the judge."
His voice seemed to drop an octave. "The judge?"
She nodded. "Judge Stumpelstiltskin."
Abel nearly lost it. He was forced to muffle his laugh with a cough. He looked down at her, making an attempt to sound stern. "And who was this judge named for?"
"For Director Stenson, at school, because he's tight with money. And Phebe was Nurse Dagmar, and Polly was—"
He cleared his throat, stopping her. "Enough."
She looked up. "We weren't making fun of you, Abel. Honestly."
"That's good to know, and I believe you. Now, back to the cigar."
"It was my fault, sir."
He looked into her eyes. It was obvious she was telling the truth. Lifting her chin, he brought her face up to his. "Do you see how inappropriate that was, Cicely? Suppose you have a daughter someday. Would you approve of her smoking cigars in a public building?"
She sucked in a breath. "No, sir. Not at all."
"Do you understand how I felt about it?"
Her shoulders slumped. "I think so, sir."
"Has your father spoken to you about this?"
She nodded. "He said he wanted you to be the one to punish me. But I won't do it again, Abel. I promise!"
"No, sweetheart. I'm certain you won't, after this." He watched as her chin began to tremble and then drew her closer into his arms. Her eyes were lowered, and he held her for a few minutes, until he felt her calm.
"All right," he said softly. He moved her around to the side and watched as her breathing again began to grow rapid and fearful. "Can you lie over my lap?"
Her head shook no, and she blinked, tears beginning to fill her eyes. "Please don't spank me as hard as you did last time."
His voice was gentle. "I will spank you as hard as I believe is needed to learn your lesson. Do you need some help, my darling?"
She took a deep breath and nodded.
Abel put his hands on her waist and gently lifted her, placing her over his knee. Her long curls cascaded over one shoulder, an
d she looked tearfully back at him. Instantly, she reached back to protect her bottom, and he put his hand around her wrist, fastening it at the small of her back. He pulled up her skirts and placed them over her back, moving her wrists on top.
"No hands. I don't want to take a chance on hitting those delicate hands. If you do, I'll start again. Hear me? Take a deep breath," he said quietly." He waited until she had obeyed and then brought the first blow down onto her bottom. Her head came up in surprise, and she whimpered as the second landed.
"Oh! Oh! Please, Abel!" She began to try to wriggle out of his grasp, and he brought his hand down again.
"Cicely? Be still. As long as you comply, I'll let you keep your pantalets on. If you don't, I'll lower them."
"No! Please don't do that—ow!" Another small hand reached back, and he took hold of it, adding it to the first. He now held both wrists in one hand.
"Young lady? What did I tell you?" He began to rain down a volley of swats on her bottom, peppering her upper thighs and the lower part of her backside. "Did you hear me when I said to be still? I meant it."
"No—yes! It's too much! I can't handle this, sir!" She was kicking now, and he fastened his right leg over her thighs to hold them.
"All right. I warned you." He pulled the ribbon on her pantalets and she gasped when she felt them drop.
"Feet down, young lady. You can. And I promise you, if I ever catch you with a cigar in your mouth again, it will be the kiss of my strap you'll feel on your bottom instead of my hand. Hear me?"
"Yes. Yes, Ow! I promise, I'll never do it again!"
The swats continued. "And why won't you?" Abel was looking down at the little bottom over his knee and trying to keep his concentration firm. "Cicely? Answer me."
"Because it made me sick." She seemed to realize quickly that was not the right answer, when he delivered the smacks faster and harder than he had previously where her bottom met her thighs.
Abel frowned, determined to drive his point home.
"Oh! I mean—" She collapsed over his knee at last, sobbing, and he recognized her submission. "Oh, Abel, I embarrassed you," she wailed. "I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again."
Abel released her wrists and rubbed her bottom, soothing away some of the sting. He stared down at the little female form that met his eyes and closed his eyes suddenly, trying to remember the lecture he had intended to give.
With a last sharp smack, he reached for her pantalets and brought them upward, tying the ribbon to hold them. He lifted her and settled her into his lap. "Come here," he said softly. "Do you understand why I spanked you?"
She was leaning into his chest, snuggling. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
"And you're forgiven. I love you, sweetheart. I want you to realize how important it is that you present the image of a young lady with promise, purpose, and integrity. Understand me? For your own sake, not for mine."
She nodded into his neck and raised her arms, holding on.
When he lifted her chin, forcing her to look up, he gave her an indulgent smile.
"And knowing that's what you'll receive for disobedience, are you still willing to marry me?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
He leaned down, putting a chaste kiss on her mouth. "But you do understand I'll do that again, if you misbehave."
A sigh escaped, and she looked down. "I guess so."
"Sweetheart, listen to me. There will be many people in town who watch you, just because you will be a judge's wife. I'd rather you behave, not because they want you to, and not because I want you to. I'd rather you do it just because it's what you feel you should do."
When she nodded, he gave her a sharp pat on the bottom and set her on her feet. "Come, young lady."
She stopped long enough to wipe her face with the backs of her hands, and he took her by the shoulders, studying her.
"You're quite beautiful, you know that, when you're penitent and submissive?"
When she buried her head into his neck, he kissed her forehead and picked up the lantern, leading her back toward the house.
Preparations
Saturday morning was spent with a delighted Father Michael. He looked onto his calendar and asked about the date of October seventh. Polly and Phebe would have to return to school the following week.
It was almost lunchtime when they left, and Abel walked her back down the street to her home. She grinned up at him as he followed her into the house.
"Stay for lunch, Judge?" her mother called out from the kitchen.
"Yes, ma'am. I'd be delighted, but I'd like to borrow your daughter this afternoon to take to my parents' house. They are extremely happy with the news, but I wanted to give Cicely the opportunity to hear that from them herself."
"Agreed." Cicely's father called out from the library. "Give Gleason and Kathleen our best."
"I will, sir." He seated Cicely at the table as Phebe and Polly entered.
The visit with the Carters was wonderful. It was odd, seeing only Kathleen and Gleason there. All the years she'd grown up, the fourteen Carter children had spilled out of the house, keeping it full of life. Full of energy. Was this what it was like when the children grew up and moved away from home? She looked up as Abel pulled the carriage away from the road on the way home. The mountains and valleys in the distance were beautiful, and she sat there, looking over them fondly. The cottonwood trees would be turning soon, along with the river and sweet birches, and the hills she'd grown up loving would be beautiful.
When she turned to look at Abel, she realized he was watching her and smiling. His handsome face, with his stately nose and dancing blue eyes, was beautiful. He was leaning forward on his knees, smiling at her.
"You're staring, Abel Carter."
"Am I? I admit it. Your delicious little mouth and your button nose are so cute. Your profile hasn't changed since you were seven. You know that?"
She straightened. "I've grown up. Believe it or not."
"I certainly hope so. I'd not be asking you to marry me, if I thought you hadn't." He turned and jumped down, Reaching, he lifted her down and drew her over to a fallen tree trunk.
"Sit."
She groaned. "You're dictatorial."
"I have to be with you. Why are you still standing?" He smacked her bottom.
She sat, but she scowled. "Are you going to stay this bossy after we're married?
"Expect it. Give me your left hand."
She put both hands behind her back, and he raised a brow in warning. He was down on one knee now, and she still had to look up at him. But he was grinning.
"I have something very nice for you. But if you want me to give it to you, you'll have to obey me."
Slowly, she put out her right hand, and his mouth quirked up on one side.
"Wrong hand. Now, close your eyes."
Changing hands, she obeyed.
Feeling something sliding onto her finger, she opened her eyes again. She gasped. A ring glittered in the sunlight, dazzling her. A large diamond stone in the middle was surrounded by tiny side stones of emeralds.
"Oh, Abel! It's beautiful!"
"Do you like it? The emeralds are the color of your eyes when you're angry." His grin was contagious.
She moved her hand in the sunlight, watching as it glinted. Suddenly, she tilted her head and looked up at him. "Do they really get that color?"
"Exactly. And while I'm down here, Miss Cicely Allison Andrews, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
A frown crossed her face. "Did you not believe me the first two times I said yes?'
"Humor me." His eyes were sparkling. "Knowing you, you might have been toying with me."
Her eyes twinkled. "I would never do that."
"I believe you. Now, answer me."
She leaned forward, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I would be honored to marry you," she whispered.
Abel smiled down into her eyes. He rose and drew her up to a standing position, before sitting down on the log himsel
f and settling her across his hard thighs.
She sighed, leaning back against him and resting her head. "It's so beautiful here. I could look out at this view all day."
"Well, not today, my sweet. Your parents are expecting us for supper, and it's time to get you back. Up you go. And you may stop grumbling under your breath. It's unbecoming."
"I don't like it when you scold me."
"Would you prefer I let it go and let you be a brat?" He set her down in the carriage seat, slightly harder than she thought was necessary and she grunted. "Yes."
"Hmm. I think not."
She sighed, and he put an arm around her and pulled her close. "My girl," he said softly, into her hair. "My beautiful girl."
The first thing Phebe noticed when they reached the house was her ring.
"How lovely," she stated in a flat voice, while Polly admired it.
Cicely looked up at Abel, who immediately put a hand on hers, giving her a smile and an almost imperceptible shake of his head. She'd come very close to saying something; he was warning her to keep silent. Her mother was meeting her father's eyes. But a moment later, when Phebe had gone upstairs, her father motioned her over.
"Don't let anyone else dampen your happiness, sweetheart," he said warmly. "She'll get over it, and you and Abel have the rest of your lives ahead of you."
"And she'll be going back to school soon," her mother added.
Cicely felt arms about her neck and turned to see her twin.
"I'm so happy for you," Polly whispered in her ear.
But Cicely could not say what was on her mind. They were about to be separated for the first time in their lives. A week after the wedding was over, Polly would be leaving to go back to school.
Abel waited until Polly left the room, before putting comforting arms about her.
He held her that evening, in his lap, in the parlor, while they made plans and talked of old times and life with each other ahead. She knew that, no matter what happened, she would not change her mind about becoming Abel's wife for anything in the world.
Judging Cicely (Strasburg: The New Generation Book 1) Page 6