Hell Hath No Fury (Devilish Debutantes Book 1)

by Annabelle Anders

  Cecily liked to think of Stephen as a very young man, joking and laughing with his schoolmates. She admired his dependable and responsible nature but sensed that deep inside of him was a less rigid soul — an aspect that yearned for whimsy, for fun.

  Although elegant and neat, his attire lacked any flamboyancy whatsoever. His cravat, of a pristine white, was starched and tied into an elegant but simple knot. He wore a white waistcoat., black double-breasted tailcoat, and a matching top hat. His conservatively cut breeches somewhat disguised the muscles beneath them. All in all, he truly was almost the perfect gentleman. And she added the qualifier of almost as a compliment. Any man who could be called a perfect gentleman would also most likely be an incredible bore.

  The only unkempt part of his person were the ink stains on the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. His valet most likely had not been happy in that fact, but ink was difficult to remove.

  “Do you remember any of the verses?”

  “In Much Ado about Nothing,” Stephen said, pausing while Cecily translated what she now knew about that word, “Act Five, I believe, Benedick, speaking to his lover, says, ‘I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes.’ In the Elizabethan times, the words ‘to die,’ also referred to sexual climax. So, taken that way, the line is really very suggestive indeed.”

  Cecily sighed dreamily. Based upon the brief lovemaking she had experienced the night before, she found the entirety of the line stunningly beautiful. “I think it lovely,” she said softly. “Will you quote it again?”

  “Of course.” Stephen shifted and leaned toward her. With his feet firmly planted on the floor of the carriage, he rested his forearms upon his knees, his hands loosely clasped between them. And then he looked deeply into her eyes.

  “I will live in thy heart…” he said softly, his voice wrapping around her like velvet, “die in thy lap…” Suddenly the carriage felt much smaller than it had a few moments ago. “…and be buried in thy eyes.”

  After a moment of fiery tension, Cecily reached next to her, picked up her fan, waved it slowly in front of her face, and then, having closed it, touched it to her heart.

  Stephen, watching her motions with the fan, tilted his head, puzzled. “You are saying something. I’ve heard of the fan being used for words, but I do not know the meanings.”

  She had made the motions unconsciously. But her last etiquette instructor had spent hours teaching her the language of the fan. Had she known what she was saying with those small motions?

  Cecily opened the fan slowly this time, hesitated a moment, and fluttered it before her face. “This means I am married.” And then, folding the fan and touching it to her heart, she said, “But this means that you have touched my heart.”

  Stephen frowned and stared at his fingers. Had she unburdened her emotions on him inappropriately? Before she could apologize, he reached out and enclosed both of her hands in his much larger ones.

  Looking down, Cecily could not help but be mesmerized by the contrast of his tanned, strong, very masculine hands with hers, smaller and covered by the white silk of her long evening gloves. And then he bent his head down and pressed a kiss to each of her palms.

  “My lady, Cecily…” He paused with his head still bent, seemingly at a loss for words. “…I wish…” But he did not finish.

  His head was very nearly in her lap. She wanted to remove her gloves and run her fingers through the thick crispness of his hair as she had the previous night in the garden. But he still clasped her hands in his. A curious lump formed in her throat.

  WHEN CECILY TOLD Stephen that he touched her heart, he’d felt as though all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs. Being with her somehow managed to fill his heart with joy… and yet, at the same time, his conscience with guilt.

  Now, bending over her hands, it took all of his self-control not to sweep her into his arms and hold her in his lap.

  She had been sitting there, elegantly dressed with her hair elaborately curled and pinned, plying the delicate fan with more allure than the most experienced of courtesans – the sweetest flirt he’d ever encountered.

  And yet he knew that what she wanted was her freedom more than anything else. She was willing to sacrifice any chance at ever being accepted socially in order to obtain it. He just hoped he could help her weather the storm when it happened, if Flavion did actually take up divorce proceedings against her.

  Sometimes in life, one encountered situations that were utterly wrong. What he had come back to London and found here was one of them. He pressed his lips against her hand a moment longer before sitting back up.

  AS CECILY AND Stephen stepped into the foyer of Nottinghouse, Chadwick came careening through the hallway and welcomed Cecily with a big slobbery kiss. Cecily hugged him back, glad he’d been given a thorough bath and something of a haircut. “Did you miss me, buddy?” She smiled and then looked over at Stephen teasingly. “And did you miss Cousin Stephen?” she asked Chadwick, turning the dog in Stephen’s direction. Chadwick was quite indiscriminate, really, as he then put his paws up on Stephen and proceeded to greet him with an equal amount of enthusiasm.

  Stephen frowned, but Cecily noticed that he rubbed the dog’s head affectionately before setting his paws back to the ground. Chadwick must have been lonely during the evening, as he now displayed his pleasure at her return by wagging his tail rapidly.

  Preparing to go up to her room, she suddenly felt awkward and uncertain. Stephen removed his hat and handed it to Mr. Sherman. Once the butler disappeared, Stephen caught her gaze and raised one eyebrow enquiringly.

  “I was wondering,” she began, feeling like a great idiot, “if you were still willing to, er, assist me again tonight? In the hopes that Flavion actually returns this time?”

  At once serious, Stephen looked down at his hands. “We were not noticed by any of the servants. It isn’t too late if you wish to change your mind. The kiss this afternoon may be forgotten, but once one of the more talkative servants discovers our affair, there really will be no turning back.”

  Oh, no! “Have you changed your mind then? Because I have not,” she said nervously. And then, deciding that she did not wish to suffer his rejection any further, she turned clumsily, nearly tripping over Chadwick, in order to climb the stairs.

  But Stephen caught her elbow. She did not turn to look back at him.

  “My lady… Cecily, I have not changed my mind. But I am concerned. I’m not sure you realize how devastating it will be publicly if Flavion divorces you.” He paused and swallowed. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  Cecily looked over her shoulder at him, abruptly thinking that what would hurt more than anything was something she did not wish to contemplate. For being alone, away from the ton, was not something she feared, but perhaps being alone, away from Stephen, would be her greatest tragedy. “I will be fine, Stephen. I would be grateful for your assistance.” She shrugged, not wanting to seem too needy. “But if it is you, rather, who does not wish to become involved in something as tawdry as divorce proceedings, then I will not hold you to your promise.”

  She realized she was holding her breath.

  “Very well, then,” Stephen said, after a barely audible sigh. “I will come to your chamber in one hour’s time. Don’t feel you must wait up for me. I will make sure the door to Flavion’s room is open.” Without another word, he turned on his heel abruptly and disappeared in the direction of the study.

  Feeling the weight of the evening, Cecily slowly ascended the stairs to her chambers with Chadwick impatiently making multiple trips up and down the steps in front of her. She couldn’t help but smile half-heartedly at the animal; he was so very pleased to see her again.

  “At least I have you,” she told him quietly as they arrived at the landing, and she headed toward her suite. Upon entering, she found Sally awaiting her with some hot tea and biscuits. Not in the mood for inane conversation, Cecily had the maid let down her hair and help her undress b
efore sending her away for the night.

  Taking a brush, she sat in front of the hearth and began the task of braiding it herself. “Come over here, Chadwick. I’ve set up a bed for you.” She beckoned her new friend, but he would not be enticed.

  For something had caught his attention. Something about her bed.

  Standing up, Cecily wondered if perhaps someone were hiding beneath it. Feeling a chill run through her, she reached above the fireplace mantle and removed the large saber that hung over it for decorative purposes. She hoped it would be as effective as it looked, if there was, in fact, a thief or worse, hiding under her bed.

  Holding the saber defensively, she walked back toward the bed.

  Except, Chadwick was not interested in something beneath the bed. He was emitting a low and menacing growl but was fixated on something under the counterpane.

  Reaching forward, she grasped the heavy material and flung it back.

  Nothing.

  Except something was moving beneath the sheets.

  She grasped the material under one of the pillows and pulled with all her might until it gave way and flew onto the floor.

  It was the last thing in the world that she’d expect to see.

  In her chamber, let alone in her bed!

  A very large snake slithered about on the mattress and was suddenly quite interested in the growling dog threatening to pounce. And then, as Chadwick drew near the snake, it suddenly coiled up and lurched at her brave but naive pet.

  Without taking any time to think, Cecily, still grasping the antique saber, slashed at the snake and flung it away from Chadwick. Brushing aside the stinging sensation in her left wrist, she dashed around to the other side of the bed. There, the bullying reptile slithered menacingly across the floor toward the barking dog.

  Not giving the snake another chance at Chadwick, Cecily took the saber and slammed it down so hard that it went right through to the floor. Even with the white and black zigzagged striping, the shadows in the room made it difficult to keep track of where the snake had gone, if he’d gone anywhere at all. But she still saw movement. Good lord, there were two of them now!

  And so, Cecily slammed the saber down again.

  And again.

  And again.

  She pummeled the floor so many times, her hair tangled about her face, that she did not realize anyone else had entered the room until she felt strong arms around her.

  “Relax, Cecily!” Stephen said from over her shoulder for the second time that day. Had it really only just been earlier that morning that she’d walloped mud at Miss Daphne Cunnington? And now, here she was, bludgeoning a snake to death in her bedchambers.

  Stephen must think her a complete harridan. She dropped the saber, threw her arms around his neck, and made a mad effort to climb him. For she was barefoot, and there were most likely snake parts slithering about in the shadows created by the hearth and the candles.

  “He took a strike at Chadwick,” she said, her bare feet standing atop his shoes, her arms locked now around his nape. “I don’t know where he went. I don’t know if I killed it!”

  Stephen set her aside behind him. Grasping a candle with his other hand, he then walked toward the bed.

  “Oh… my God,” he said.

  SHE HAD CUT the snake up into several varying lengths.

  “Is it an adder?” she asked meekly from across the room.

  Stephen, fighting the shock he felt at seeing a mutilated snake in Cecily’s room — mutilated by Cecily — looked at the saber and then back over at the shrinking and fragile woman he’d parted with a short while ago.

  “It was,” he said finally.

  With cautious fingers, Stephen picked up the weapon and touched the blade. It was incredibly sharp for all the appearance it had of being an antique. “We’re going to need somebody in here to clean up this mess.”

  “It’s dead?” she asked.

  He nodded and raised his brows. “Yes, all twenty pieces of it, I’d wager.”

  Cecily raised one hand to cover that pretty mouth. “So, the saber was not blunt? It was sharpened?” She strained forward as though to peer around Stephen and take in the evidence of what a panic-ridden lady could do when feeling threatened… and when armed with a sharpened saber.

  He did not think the sight would benefit her sleep.

  Stepping toward her, he removed the illumination of the candle from the carnage and placed a hand upon her waist. “Let’s get Chadwick out of here before he decides to make a meal of the poor fellow.” And then, steering Cecily and Chadwick toward his own room, he caught sight of a footman. “Peters, if you would be so kind as to find some help and clean up the mess that is in Lady Kensington’s chamber. Best not to take a maid, though, as the scene is a bit ghastly.”

  At the footman’s raised eyebrows, Stephen suppressed a grin. “You’ll see for yourself, Peters. Lady Kensington had an unwanted visitor this evening and… well… there is quite the mess in there.”

  He waited for the footman to disappear before holding the door to his chamber wide for Cecily and the dog. As though in something of a trance, Cecily found a comfortable chair and sat down quietly. Chadwick lay down on the thick rug by the fire, unconcerned and peaceful.

  Stephen decanted the bottle that sat atop his dresser and poured a splash of scotch into a snifter. “Sip it slowly and let it warm you inside.” He kneeled before her somewhat anxiously and wrapped her fingers around the smooth, cool glass.

  With no hesitation, Cecily threw back the entire contents in one swift motion. He watched her close her eyes and then shiver slightly. Obviously, this was not her first taste of strong spirits.

  Once the liquor had settled, she opened her eyes and looked directly at him. She was not in shock; she was not crying or even shaking. No, Cecily Nottingham had been thinking.

  “Adders,” she said with an edge to her voice, “do not climb the stairs in townhouses situated in the middle of London.”

  Oh hell. She was right. “Where did you discover it? Was it on the floor?” Which was now covered in snake slime and intestinal material.

  “It was under the covers in my bed,” she said with more than a little bit of anger in her voice. “Somebody put a bloody snake in my bed!”

  At which point she did begin to shake. Stephen could not leave her sitting alone any longer. He pushed himself up from the floor, scooped her into his arms and then sat back down in the chair, this time with her in his lap. He pressed her head into his chest with one hand, abstractly enjoying the satiny strands of her unbound hair.

  “You are so brave. You did not scream out and run away.” Closing his eyes, he leaned his face down upon her head. “You saved Chadwick all on your own.” She was unlike any lady he’d ever met. Each day he found himself more and more intrigued by her.

  “An adder bite would have killed him,” she said, somewhat tremulously.

  Nodding, Stephen agreed. Adder bites were rarely fatal to humans, but to animals and small children, they posed a very real danger. “You acted marvelously, Cecily,” he soothed. “Remind me not to ever attack you in the dark.”

  She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. Ah, there were a few tears there now. “Don’t ever attack me in the dark,” she said, sounding forlorn.

  “I was only joking, love.” He tilted his head forward the couple of inches separating their lips and closed the distance completely. “I would never hurt you,” he said softly against her mouth.

  She tasted like scotch; soft and sweet, and was wearing the most demure nightgown he’d seen her in yet. And he could feel every single one of her lush curves as he secured her in his arms and pushed himself up to his feet.

  She hesitated only a moment before once again wrapping her arms around his neck, this time not in fear but trustingly. She uttered not a word as he carried her over to his bed and then lay her down upon it.

  In a moment, he would later attribute to complete and utter madness, he decided to take her mind off the adder
— off her marriage — off everything but himself and the fact that she was a glorious and sensual woman. He would not make love to her, in truth, but he would give her pleasure. He would give them both pleasure.

  After slipping his shoes off and removing his cravat, he slowly climbed up onto the bed with her. Although not quite as large as Cecily’s bed, it was something of a monstrosity, nonetheless. She had scooted over to the other side, just a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. Stephen pinned her with his gaze and, on all fours, crawled toward her. When he reached her side, he gave a low growl and began kissing her again.

  CECILY LET OUT a surprised squeal just as Stephen pounced on her. She’d seen, mixed in with his blatant sensuality, a playful glint in those beautiful eyes of his. When he had crawled over on top of her, she could do nothing other than revel in his closeness and kiss him back enthusiastically.

  She freely allowed him to taste her as he stroked his tongue behind her teeth. The play was heady and caused tension to build in other areas of her body. Specifically, and surprisingly, down there.

  When he withdrew his mouth from hers, it was to nip and lick and kiss his way around her chin and down her neck. Cecily clutched her hands in his hair and marveled at the sensations he caused not only with his lips and tongue, and teeth, but with the roughness of his beard, which must have been shaved several hours before.

  And at his hands, which had launched their own expedition.

  Her nightgown, not one of her special married lady’s ones — ironically — had worked itself up to her waist, and Stephen’s hands were caressing her stomach and hips and thighs…

  Cool air drifted onto her heated skin as her gown was slowly edged even higher.

  Quite methodically, and with an alarming ease, he pulled it over her head and worked her arms free.

  She lay before him completely naked and felt no embarrassment whatsoever. How this was so, she didn’t know. But it was Stephen. She felt beautiful and womanly with him.