Sitting in the candlelight, nearly a week after the duel, he reached over and removed the cloth that had been resting on Flavion’s forehead. It wasn’t as hot as it had been earlier. Perhaps this bout of fever was breaking now.
Flave stirred.
“Stephen,” Flave said in a hoarse voice. This time, when Flavion opened his eyes, Stephen glimpsed an alertness that hadn’t been present since the injury.
“Flave, I’m here.” Taking the tumbler of water from the bedside table, Stephen helped Flave sit up and take a drink. It was important that he keep hydrated.
After swallowing a few ounces of the tepid liquid, Flave lay back against his pillows tiredly.
“Daphne has abandoned me,” Flave said in a lifeless voice. “But I cannot blame her, can I? I am no longer a man.”
Stephen had been standing, but upon hearing these words, he pulled the wooden chair closer to the bed and sat down facing his cousin.
“You are a gentleman, Flavion, and you shall always be one. It is not as though the doctors removed your mind, your brain, your thoughts. They removed three-quarters of your testicles.” Stephen did not want to lie to Flavion about the doctor’s prognosis, and yet, uncertainty persisted as to how much function Flave would have. “You must let yourself heal completely before giving up hope.”
“How would you feel, Stephen, if you could never swive a female again?”
The household was quiet and conducive to thought. Upon this question, Stephen could only think of Cecily. What would he do if he were in Flave’s predicament? Would he wish for her to stay tied to him? It was a difficult question, for he knew there was no hope for a future between them.
But what would he do if she were his woman, and he’d been the one to be injured?
“A great deal of the satisfaction I take from making love comes from watching her, from looking at the object of my desire,” he said suddenly. “I would take as much pleasure as I could by using my eyes, my hands… my mouth. I would try to find some levels of excitement from bringing her to climax. If she were the right lady, I do not think she would be repulsed by me. And if she was not repulsed, then, well, I would try to find satisfaction with her touch… I cannot tell you that your situation is not devastating. But at the same time, it is not the end of the world. You have all of your limbs. You have full use and faculty of your mind. You did not lose your ability to see or hear or walk. And, who knows? There may be enough of the tissue left that you can one day feel sexual arousal again. The point is, Flave, that you have managed to escape from both of those duels with your life. What are you going to do with the rest of it?”
Flave lay quietly for a few minutes after Stephen stopped speaking.
“Are you saying that you think Daphne was not the right lady for me?” Flavion asked with a perplexed frown.
Stephen merely nodded. At last, perhaps Flavion would begin to let go of the notions he had for the chit. She’d abandoned him while he lay fighting for his life. “She is not worthy of you.” How much truth was in those words, Stephen didn’t dare contemplate. But Flavion needed to move on. He needed to be able to look forward to a life with meaning and hopefully ways in which he could find happiness.
“Cecily has been very kind to me,” Flavion said quietly. “She has forgiven me.”
Stephen swallowed and clenched his fists painfully. Looking away from his cousin, he barely managed to get the words out. “She will be a good wife to you. If you allow her to be, I think. She loved you once. Perhaps if you change your ways, she will love you again.”
Flave let out a long sigh. “I will think on it.” Before drifting off to sleep, he added, “Thank you, Stephen.”
Flavion would rest well that night. Stephen would not.
As he sat in the hard wooden chair at his cousin’s side, he found himself feeling the outsider, alone. He hadn’t felt this way since he had first left England. He needed to get away from all of this. For he knew that he must leave Cecily alone. The couple could never reconcile if Stephen remained in their lives. Furthermore, he would excuse himself from witnessing such a travesty.
The pain would be great.
Jealousy would tear away at him. It would eventually erode the relationship he had miraculously managed to preserve between himself and Flave.
No, if his cousin and Cecily were to have any chance at a real marriage, Stephen must stay as far from them as possible.
Even now, over the past week with Flave fighting for his life, it had taken all of his willpower to keep himself from going to her. Each night, sitting here in his cousin’s room, he was tempted to cross to the adjoining doorway and make his way into Cecily’s bedchamber.
She would be sleeping. Would she welcome him, or would she send him away? She had maintained a polite distance from him as well. Having realized that Flave would not divorce her now, was she already thinking that it would be best to attempt a reconciliation?
Stephen did not belong here. He’d felt guilty for not staying in England to assist Flavion, but now that the earldom was well on its way to being buttressed, it was time to bow out. He would travel to a few of the properties and set them to rights, and then he would set his mind toward his own affairs once again.
But for tonight, the pull toward Cecily’s room was strong indeed.
To reassure himself, he touched Flavion’s forehead. Thank God, the fever had passed. Flavion was lucky in that he’d been able to fight off the infection.
Stephen rose from his chair, strode across the room once, and then back toward the window.
A full moon lit the street below, but there was no evidence of any activity. It was not quite three in the morning. Even the revelers had apparently returned home for the night.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he paced to the door again.
After covering the length of the room several times, Stephen made a decision. Very much against his better judgment, he purposely wandered into Cecily’s bedchamber.
Chadwick had been lying on the floor and upon seeing Stephen, jumped up and walked over to greet him with a few friendly licks.
Cecily did not move.
Stephen smiled when a soft snore reached his ears.
She was tangled in the covers, one slim calf and taut thigh exposed to the night air. One arm flung above her head. Her other was bent at an odd angle behind her. He studied her carefully so as to fortify his memory for years to come.
Her hair was tied back into a braid, but several strands had escaped. He knew from before that the braid was silky and thick. She wore the scarlet gown he had seen her in that first morning after his arrival. Her breasts were barely contained in the bodice.
He locked the door behind him, and then the other door that led to her sitting room.
After divesting himself of his clothing, he climbed onto the tall bed and slipped under the covers beside her.
She moaned softly and nestled into him. “Stephen?” she said sleepily.
“Shhh…” he said softly. “Sleep, love. I just want to hold you. I’ve missed you.” He wrapped his arms around her and lay his head on a pillow. Her legs felt soft and smooth against his. He was intensely aroused but would not act upon it. What he sought was the comfort he could only get from her — from her nearness, her touch.
“Is Flave all right?” she asked.
“He is. His fever is broken. I believe he is out of danger now. I left him resting comfortably.”
Cecily opened her eyes and looked up at him. In the moonlight, as close as he was, he could almost count her eyelashes. Her face showed tremendous relief. “Oh, that is good. I have been so worried.”
And then she closed her eyes and cuddled her face into his chest. He absorbed the warmth of her breath on his naked skin.
“Cecily,” he said tentatively.
She pulled back and looked up at him again, this time with concern. She must have sensed his mood. “You are leaving, are you not? The time has come?”
Stephen nodded and kissed her
forehead. “Flavion, I think, is going to need you after all. He seems to have come to terms with Miss Cunnington’s defection. He also, I think, is beginning to realize what a gem he has in you.”
Cecily said nothing for several moments. When she finally spoke, her voice was resigned. “I cannot be a proper wife to him, but I will care for him. I will not abandon him. I am coming to realize that I have something of a conscience, after all. And though I have not been true to my wedding vows, I do not think I can walk away from Flavion in his time of need.”
Stephen pulled her closer. He approved of her sentiments, but the words tormented just the same. “I don’t think he can ever be a husband in the true sense of the word to you, either. But I have spoken with him about that aspect as well. He need not give up hope that he can experience a physically loving relationship with a woman — with you — once again.”
“We’ve never had a physically loving relationship,” she said with a scowl. And then furrowing her brows, she asked, “What do you mean? Are you referring to… nothing?”
The sensual spark in her eyes got the better of him.
Ah, was he to be ruled by his cock again tonight? He had entered her bedchamber with the best of intentions. But he watched as her breathing quickened. His own heart raced. The mood had changed from one of tenderness to one of physical need.
“I can make love to you without penetration. I can take a great deal of satisfaction without it.”
“Oh, you can, can you?” She dared him. A wicked look crept into her eyes. One that held a world of promise.
He brought his hand around and cupped the tender weight of one of her breasts, the tip already tightened. He languidly allowed his thumb and fingers to pull and pinch it. Her arousal affected him greatly, but he would not satisfy it.
She arched her back and pressed into him.
“I most certainly can,” he said huskily.
She wrapped one leg around him, her nightgown already hitched up to her waist, and pressed her soft folds against him. He groaned softly as he felt her wetness and warmth all along his arousal.
Knowing that he wouldn’t last another ten seconds if he allowed her to set the rules, he slid his body downward and took the tip of her breast in his mouth. He grasped both of her wrists tightly and held them against the bed. She wiggled and let out a soft whine.
“But I want you!” she said in a pouty voice. He loved her pouty voice.
He softly nipped his teeth at her and then trailed his mouth down her abdomen. Still holding her hands, he dipped his tongue into her navel and then set to traveling down even farther. She arched her hips upward, reaching for his mouth.
He released her wrists, then grasping her by the waist, held her immobile. The scent of her womanhood, of her sex, was heady and exciting by itself. He was going to enjoy the taste of her even more.
He took hold of her buttocks and then plunged his mouth lower.
Her soft folds were wet and slick. He rubbed his unshaven chin down the length of her, and she cried out. “Oh, God.” He did it again. “Oh, God.” She panted.
He loved this.
Her hands were in his hair, urging him deeper. He took one finger and slipped it inside of her.
That was all it took. Her hips jerked upward, and she began throbbing around him. He’d be lucky if she left him with any hair.
But he wasn’t finished.
By the time he was done with her, she conceded that a man could most thoroughly satisfy a woman without actual penetration. Several times in fact.
When she’d finally fallen back asleep, Stephen kissed her one last time and then quietly made his way back to his own chamber. Rather than attempting to sleep, he summoned Hamilton and the two of them left before dawn.
HE HADN’T EVEN left a note.
It had been two weeks since Stephen had departed. Since then, Flavion had regained enough strength to order the servants to pack up in preparation for their removal to Surrey. Cecily felt twenty years older than she had just a few months ago.
When she arrived in London with her father this past March, she’d been naively fanciful as to what her second season amongst the ton might be like.
Although her first Season was something of a failure, she hadn’t given up. In fact, having not taken, she’d immersed herself in her etiquette, dancing, and comportment lessons. And when Flavion took notice of her, she had felt that her hard work had been worth it.
All within a matter of three months, she’d become infatuated, married, been betrayed, fallen in love for real, and then been forced to come to terms with the hopelessness of loving her husband’s cousin.
And now, much wiser, she would retreat to the country with the broken man who was to be her husband after all. She felt foolish for all of the plans and mischief she and her friends had schemed up together in hopes of shedding Flavion. All the cunning in the world was no match for the law of the church, for the law of the land. She choked back a sob as she stepped into the teahouse where she’d arranged to meet with Emily, Rhoda, and Sophia. She was going to tell them she had reconciled with Flavion — that she and Flavion were going to do what they could to make something of their marriage after all.
She felt guilty troubling them with all of the drama in her life this past Season. It had all been about her; her suitor, her wedding, her sorrow… She forced a bright smile as her eyes alighted on the three other ladies, her dearest friends — her sisters of the heart.
Before she could sit down, Sophia displayed her left hand enthusiastically. On the third finger was a delicate band decorated with artfully arranged sapphires and diamonds. “This morning!” Sophia squealed. “He spoke with Mr. Babineaux first and then formally proposed to me.”
Cecily was close to tears but pushed them back. She was so very happy for her friend. “Lord Harold, I presume?” she asked teasingly as she sat down and placed her reticule upon the table. An empty cup sat in front of her. Emily reached over and poured some hot tea into it. “Was it ever so romantic?”
Sophia made a half grin and looked down shyly, “He is not nearly as… demonstrative as some gentlemen, but he is such a wonderful person. He is not overly demanding. And his manners with me are always impeccable.”
Cecily reached over and embraced Sophia in a tight hug. It sounded as though Lord Harold was exactly what Sophia needed. Even if he didn’t sound very exciting… Cecily had always thought Lord Harold, although quite handsome, was withdrawn and overly solemn. The thought flitted through her mind that she’d thought Stephen a very serious-minded man, but he had turned out to be warm and sweet and fun! And he had not been without a sense of humor. Perhaps Lord Harold possessed another side as well. She hoped he did for her friend’s sake, for Sophia was a girl who needed frivolity and laughter in her life.
“I am so happy for you! Tell me everything. What did he say? What were you thinking? Did you know of his intentions beforehand?”
Sophia launched into a breathless narrative describing the few highlights leading up to a proposal from her now fiancé. Lord Harold had confessed to having been in love with Sophia since first setting eyes on her two years ago. It had taken him this long to get up the courage to pay his addresses to her. Sophia had been charmed by his confession.
Cecily finished her tea and had eaten a few of the artfully made cucumber sandwiches by the time Sophia was done. A satisfied silence ascended on the table when Sophia stopped talking and gazed at the ring upon her hand.
“And what of your prospects, Rhoda?” Cecily asked. They had not seen much of each other over the last month.
Rhoda merely shrugged and looked out the large window that made up an entire wall of the teahouse. “I had thought… but nothing, really. My father is going to stay in London after the Season is over, though. I think I might remain here with him. Mother and Lucille are going to Bath, and I cannot abide such dreary surroundings.”
Emily, who had already explained that she would be visiting relatives in Wales when the Season ended
, turned the attention to Cecily. “What of you? Are you still in love with Mr. Nottingham?”
Cecily swallowed and then… lied. “I have come to realize that I am rather fickle when it comes to love. Mr. Nottingham has left Nottinghouse. I believe he is no longer in London, but Flavion and I do not keep tabs of his whereabouts. Flavion and I will be traveling to Surrey tomorrow. We have come to an… understanding.” She tried to force a smile that would reach even her eyes. She did not want for her friends to pity her. She had had far too much of that already this spring and summer and really, it had all been rather pathetic of her.
Emily narrowed her eyes. “You and Flave?” she asked, disbelievingly.
Cecily would have to be firm. “What with Miss Cunnington gone, and after facing the possibility of Flave’s death, Flavion and I have realized that we still have some… affection for one another. We are going to spend some quiet time at his country seat in Surrey getting to know each other better. His mother will not be in residence. She sent word that she will be spending the remainder of the year in Bath. I think it will be for the best. It was rather silly, wasn’t it, to think that we could end my marriage with our pranks?” Again, she smiled, but this one felt brittle. Gathering her reticule, Cecily went to stand up before she lost her composure completely. “Now let me hug each of you because Flave and I are departing at sunup tomorrow, and I most likely shan’t see any of you until the Season comes around again.” Perhaps not even then. She was not sure that Flavion would ever be willing to face Society again. She was equally uncertain as to whether or not he would be accepted into their ranks after losing the duel to the colonel. Already, rumors trickled through the ton as to the extent and nature of his injury. She fought back tears for the thousandth time that day as she hugged each of her friends in turn.
Hell Hath No Fury (Devilish Debutantes Book 1) Page 23