She would go downstairs now, while she was still properly dressed.
Candle in hand, she reached the bottom of the staircase, and was just about to insert the key into the lock when she heard a strange hissing from the staircase.
She whirled around to see Harry sliding down the wide mahogany banister. Just when she thought—and fervently hoped—he would crash into the candelabrum on the newel post, held up by a pair of cherubs with very pointy wings, he leaped off and bounded over to her. “I was hoping to catch you alone, Cecily. We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” Her pulse quickened, the familiar fear surging through her veins as she sought an escape. She couldn’t possibly unlock the massive library door, slip in, and lock it behind her in time to keep him out. And as for rushing back upstairs to her bedchamber...
He blew out the candle, plunging them into darkness. Cecily screamed, but only for a split second before he clamped a hand over her mouth and with his entire weight slammed her against the library door. He tore the key out of her fingers and unlocked the door, pushing against her to open it.
“And now,” he said, forcing her backward over the threshold, “I’m going to lock this behind us and we are going to have ourselves a little tit-to-tit, just you and me.”
If not for her mounting terror, Cecily might have corrected his badly fractured French and called him an idiot into the bargain. He shoved her to the floor as she screamed again. The heavy door slammed shut with an echo like a gong of doom as she saw flames wavering over her head, and she knew she was now in hell.
If only that devil of a duke were here to save her.
Chapter Fifteen
With a fully lit candelabrum in hand, Dane lurched back as Cecily flew screaming through the door before toppling to the floor. He had no wish to start a fire or otherwise set her ablaze, so he had to find a safe place to set down the candelabrum in his hand before he could do anything else. The closest spot was a long, narrow table behind the sofa near the fireplace.
That gave Harry plenty of time to slam the door behind himself before realizing he might have been well advised to leave it open, the better to make a quick and easy escape from ducal wrath. Instead he just stood there dumbfounded, gaping at Dane as if he were the Ghost of Ashdown Park. Not that Dane was aware there was one. Cecily scrambled to her feet before he could even help her up, and she dashed past him, deeper into the library.
“Get out,” Dane said, stalking toward Harry. “And by that I mean, leave this house and do not come near Cecily ever again.”
“Ashdown said—”
“I don’t care if he said you could spend the night here. I don’t care if this is his house and his rules. He’s an earl. I’m a duke.” Dane lifted both hands to waggle his fingers. “With ducal powers, I might add. Just ask Cecily—but on second thought, don’t. I don’t want you saying another word to her ever again, either, unless it’s an apology for your vile treatment of her for so many years. There’s a village with an inn only a mile from here.”
“I don’t have the coin to bespeak a room and still pay my fare to Bath. Not after you ordered your solicitors to stop that book.”
The scoundrel didn’t know the half of it, as Dane intended. “Then you admit to stealing it from her and giving it to a publisher?”
“’Twas my father’s idea. ’Tisn’t stealing if she’s been living with us all these years. He said ’twould erase our vowels and we wouldn’t have to bother you for—uhh—”
“Supplemental funds that you assume are sempiternal? If they won’t take you at the inn, then I suggest you go out to the stables and find yourself a nice manger. Maybe you’ll wake up to find three foolish men waiting to bestow gifts that will settle your debts. Just. Get. Out.”
“At this hour? It’s almost midnight, and it’s raining again.”
“Scared of the dark, are we? Afraid of getting a little wet? And you call yourself an Englishman. Tell me, Harry, how would you like to be trapped somewhere for hours, with no means of escape? Where no one can hear you crying for help? A place so remote that no one might find you till the next day, or even the day after, unless someone happened to ride by on horseback? And even then, you could only hope that person had more good will than you, by which I mean you, Harcourt Nigel Fortescue Armstrong, and came to your rescue.”
Harry scrunched his nose and narrowed his eyes. “What has this to do with the rain and where I should spend the night?”
“Remember that old treehouse on the edge of the spinney near the lake, Harry? You left Cecily stranded there for hours, until I came along and brought her home after dusk. Then after I left, she was punished for what you did.”
“I don’t—”
“Oh yes, by God, you do. Don’t try to play the fool with me, Harry. For one thing, you don’t have to try, and for another, you don’t even have to play at it.”
“You speak of ancient history from the turn of the century, and we were only children. Children do things like that all the time. ’Twas all in sport.”
“Not the things you did. And you weren’t exactly a child. You were what—thirteen, fourteen at the time? I do believe you were old enough to know what you were doing and the wrong of it.”
“She didn’t have to climb that tree. I was already in the treehouse, and there was no one else holding her at sword point, forcing her up the ladder. She wasn’t even supposed to climb up, because she’s a girl. But she still could have found her own way down, if she hadn’t been so afraid of ripping her skirt. She should have known better.”
A crimson mist descended over Dane’s gaze. “I’ll warn you only once, Harry. Stop digging and drop the shovel.”
“She should have been sitting in the house stitching samplers, not trying to climb trees and tempt boys. It’s her own fault what happened, and that’s why she was punished for what she did. I did nothing that any other fellow wouldn’t have—” And then Harry screamed like a girl. Or a man whose ballocks had just been rammed straight up into his nasal cavity. Clutching his groin, he crumpled to the floor and curled up into a quivering, pitiful ball of sniveling humanity.
Dane waggled his fingers again. “Behold my ducal powers, Harry! For the next few days you won’t be able to stand without your feet dangling in midair.”
Harry hissed something that sounded a bit like, “Sorry, Cecily!”
Dane cupped a hand behind his ear. “What was that? You’ll have to speak louder, so she can hear you.”
Harry did manage to raise his voice, but to a reedy screech. “I say I’m sorry, Cecily!”
“What you did to her was wrong, wasn’t it? Everything you did to her was wrong. Am I right? Or am I only confusing you? Everything you did to her was evil.”
“I was wrong! Only how was I to know—” He howled as Dane forcefully rolled him over with the side of his booted foot.
“You knew bloody well!” Dane stormed over to the library door and threw it open. “I care not where you go, or if you must do so slithering on your belly like the snake you are. Just get out before you make a puddle on Ashdown’s fine Turkey rug, and go find your wealthy widow. You may not be able to service her as you hoped, but she might well be eccentric enough that she’d like to keep you as her pet eunuch—unless you can find a way to pull those things into place before they creep back down on their own.”
Bawling and wailing, Harry crawled out of the library like an old tortoise. Dane slammed the door behind him.
He turned to sweep his gaze over the library, but glimpsed no movement save for the flickering flames on the candelabrum. “Cecily? Are you still here?”
He should have expected it, but he still started as a silhouette sprang up from behind a chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. The golden glow of the candlelight gilded her otherwise pallid features and added a gleam to her wide blue eyes.
“Oh, thank you,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She fairly waltzed into his arms and wrapped her own around him. “No one h
as ever stood up for me before. No one ever believed me before.”
He lightly stroked his fingers through her brown hair that for once wasn’t a disheveled mess. Someone had taken a great deal of care to primp her just so, until she looked as perfect as every debutante who’d ever been tossed into his path by ravenous, matchmaking mamas.
That was all well and good, and he wouldn’t blame her for liking it that way. Indeed, he was more than willing to take her any way he could. But at this moment it dawned on him that he loved the wonderfully imperfect, delightfully clumsy Cecily. The real Cecily. Every other woman had flaws she would have kept carefully hidden till after the wedding, had matters progressed to that point, but not Cecily. With her, he knew exactly all he was getting.
If only he could persuade her that she was worthy of the duke she believed was a devil and the bane of her existence.
She lifted her head to look up at him. “I do so want to kiss you now. I no longer—well, surely you know...”
He smiled back. “I have already discerned all of that. And if you want to kiss me, then by all means do so.”
He lowered his head as she tilted hers back, and he covered his mouth with hers, tasting almond and vanilla. Cecily’s tongue teased and flirted with his own, lightly flicking forward and then back and around as he deeply probed, his arousal surging against her.
She broke the kiss and gasped for air. “I’m so glad you came back,” she whispered.
“But I never left.”
“They said you did. Or the earl did.”
“I only didn’t come downstairs for dinner,” he replied. “After such a wretched night’s sleep last night, I wanted to nap for a while, because I hoped to be up most of tonight as well.”
She furrowed her brow. “Why?”
He toyed with the ringlets bouncing about her ears. “You still don’t know?”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with me, would it?”
“Well, I hoped. I couldn’t stop thinking about that highly improper conversation we had in the barouche today.”
“I couldn’t, either. I must confess that was part of the reason I was so crestfallen to find out you’d left. Or thought you’d left. Upon my word, Lord Ashdown made it sound as if you’d left me here to continue your journey to London.”
He cupped her chin in his hand, gazing deeply into her eyes. “I’ve come to realize, my dear Cecily, that I can’t really leave you anywhere.”
“But I don’t want you to marry me because you have to.”
“I won’t have to,” he said, sliding his arms around her again. “I want to, Cecily. What must I do to convince you? I want to marry you—but before you say anything else, I want to emphasize that this is not a marriage proposal. That’s only because I have no wish to propose marriage to you in this room, because this is the same room—almost the same spot, in fact, and almost two years ago to the very day—where I proposed to Miss Evangeline Benedict. And instead of giving me a direct answer, she kept asking why.”
She glanced around the room, her expression thoughtful. “Hmm, I see. Come to think of it, I would hate to receive a proposal of marriage from someone who previously proposed to someone else in almost the same spot in the very same room. Also, the same room where what just happened, happened.” She looked back at him. “So yes, we shall have to wait for another time and place.”
“But I do mean to ask you at some point, as opposed to flatly stating that we shall marry.”
She ventured a smile. “I believe that, because now I know the reason. It’s why you stopped him. And it’s why you did those other things.”
“What other things?”
“What you did just now. And that book of mine he stole...”
“He will never benefit from it,” Dane assured her.
“You used your ‘ducal powers’—” To his amusement, she lifted her hands and waggled the fingers, “—to stop it. Just as I wanted you to do, all along.”
This might be a good time to explain the entire truth to her. But at this moment, the devil in Dane was now firmly in control, and all he could think about right now was possessing her and making her his own. The truth could wait another day, and besides, she already knew it, didn’t she? How many times had he told her that he had no intention of preventing her book from being published? He had not changed his position on that. All he did was ensure through his solicitors that only Cecily would reap any financial benefits from it. She’d earned them, and unlike her family, Dane cared for her too much to deny her anything that was rightfully hers. That everything of hers, by law, would become his once they married was beside the point. It was the principle that mattered.
There would be plenty of time to clarify things later. She twined her arms over his shoulders and kissed him again and again before saying, “I thought I would have to try and seduce you to stop that book. I thought I would have to do all the things that—that—”
She didn’t want to say the blackguard’s name, and Dane didn’t blame her. He gently shushed her. “You know you never would have had to do any of that with me.”
“I do know that now. You stopped it even before—well, before That Conversation in the barouche today.” Indeed, Dane swore he could see the capitalization of those two words hanging in the air between them. “I thought you only wanted to see how far I would go before you did something. If you did something.”
No need to tell her that had been his initial plan. Dane kissed the top of her head. “Surely you know now why I really did it.” Out of love for her.
“Oh, I do. At last I feel free to—to be true to my heart, without you wondering if I’m only pretending to make you stop that book.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Did you really believe I thought that?”
“I honestly don’t know. Did you?”
“Not at all,” he said earnestly, for he’d never suspected such a thing of her. He believed, even if no one else did, that she kept any pretenses and prevarications confined to her writings.
She stood back from him, still clutching both of his hands in hers. “You know, Lord Frampton mentioned the library to me at dinner. He wanted to know if I planned to come down later and search for a book. Did he know something that I didn’t?”
Dane grinned. “Maybe he did.”
“Then you were expecting me to come into the library this evening, after everyone went to bed? Because I honestly never dreamed for a moment you would be in here.”
“Dare I say that I gathered as much from the fact that you’re not in your night rail?”
“Oh, you are a devil.” But this time she said it playfully, instead of accusingly. “But it’s a good thing I didn’t. I certainly didn’t expect to see him down here.”
“But if you must know, yes, I was not only expecting you—because I know how fond you are of books, even to writing them—but I was even hoping you would come down. So yes, I was waiting for you, Cecily.”
She tilted her head slightly. “Does that mean I’m still as predictable as ever?”
“Let’s just say that when it comes to a room full of books, it would have been out of the ordinary, and quite out of your character not to venture into this room at some point. I don’t think that means you’re tediously predictable. If anything, I’d like to think it means that I know you very well. Maybe even better than anyone else knows you.”
She seemed to light up at that. Her eyes, always wide, sparkled in the wavering light of the candles, and her sudden smile did more than just touch his heart. She’d captured it.
He swung her around in a circle, as if they were dancing. “You look absolutely lovely this evening. I might say that I now regret not coming downstairs for dinner, but I’m glad I came down for this.”
“I’m glad, too—especially since—well, if you hadn’t been here...” Her face clouded.
He shushed her again, pulling her against him. “I believe everything happened the way it was meant to.” He stepped back a pace or two ti
ll he felt the edge of the chair against the back of his legs, and then he sat down, pulling her into his lap.
Cecily gasped in surprise, though the look on her face was most encouraging. He plucked at the puffed sleeves of her violet gown. “Tell me, what would you say if I did this?” He slid the sleeves down her arms. The sight of her bare shoulders sent a hot rush to his groin.
Her eyes delved into his. “I would say not to stop,” she whispered.
He reached around to undo the buttons on the back of her gown. The bodice loosened, and then fell to reveal the tops of her breasts, held up by her stays and still mostly concealed by her shift. “What would you say now?”
“I would say, or rather ask, if that’s all you’re going to do.”
“Do you wish me to do more?”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered hotly, as she closed her eyes and lowered her lips to his.
Dane kissed her deeply as he tugged on the shift till he felt nothing but warm, curvy flesh in his hands. He rather reluctantly broke the kiss. “Let me see you.”
Cecily’s breath was tremulous as she slowly sat up on his lap, her eyes still closed. Dane saw pointed breasts with pebbled pink tips. He flicked his tongue around one, wetting it as she gasped and threw her head back. Then he took the nipple completely into his mouth, suckling for a moment before peering up at her. “I suppose I should have asked what you might say if I were to do that.”
“It matters not,” she rasped. “I would have said please. Oh, please...more...”
“Then what if I do this?” Her skirt rustled as he pulled it up to her waist to reveal her split drawers, with the dark thatch of curls between them. He thought his breeches would pop open at the sight.
“More,” she whispered, her eyes still closed. She was trembling all over.
With one hand on the small of her back to hold her steady, with his other he dipped his index finger between her thighs, at once finding the hidden well of wetness. Very slowly, very gently, he pushed his finger inside of her, then slid it out again.
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