Hell Hath No Fury (Devilish Debutantes Book 1)

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Hell Hath No Fury (Devilish Debutantes Book 1) Page 26

by Annabelle Anders


  And now this! She hardly knew what to think.

  She was not married. She was unwed.

  And she was pregnant.

  But she would not, she most definitely would not, become another cast-off burden of Flavion’s for Stephen Nottingham to bear.

  She had already been married to one man who did not love her; she was quite unwilling to repeat the experience.

  Well, she had thought she had been married…

  As she drew near the manor, her anger with Stephen subsided, and the reality of what Flavion had actually gone and done, deliberately, suddenly washed over her. Marrying her while already married to Miss Cunnington, had been unconscionable. It was dastardly, villainous — criminal! Cecily may have committed adultery, but that had not been premeditated… well, mostly not…

  But Flavion! He had married her and consummated the marriage while wed to another woman! To Daphne Cunnington! No wonder the lady had bristled at having to address her as the countess!

  Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Stephen had trotted to the stables, dismounted his horse — a rather fine-looking one at that — and was handing the reins over to one of the grooms. It was hard to be angry with the lug head for long, but of all the dimwitted, addlepated, utterly ridiculous reasons he’d given her for marriage, his had made her want to strangle him!

  She assumed he would wish to protect his cousin from her wrath, but she would not be thwarted. She swept into the foyer of the manor, inquired as to Flavion’s whereabouts, and turned to make her way quite purposefully toward the billiard room. “And under no circumstances,” she ordered over her shoulder, “are we to be interrupted.”

  The butler’s eyebrows rose into his receding hairline, and he bowed graciously. “Of course, m-my lady,” he stuttered slightly.

  Climbing the stairs hastily, Cecily was seeing red by the time she opened the door to find Flavion bending over the felt-covered table taking a shot. With an odd sense of repeating the past, Cecily reached for one of the cue sticks and headed toward her husband — or her not husband, apparently, with every intention of bashing the louse’s head in.

  The adder had gotten off easy compared to what she would like to do to Flavion Nottingham!

  There were some clicking sounds as Flavion knocked one of the balls into the colored group, sending them in all directions. With a satisfied-looking smirk, but apparently sensing her presence, he turned around and looked at her curiously. “Say there, Cecily,” he said inquisitively, looking at the stick she held in her hands as though it were a cricket bat. “Can I help you with something?”

  Seeing now his tousled hair and cold blue eyes, Cecily wondered how she had ever been such a fool to have fallen, even for a short time, for this travesty of a man.

  “You are a beast!” she said through gritted teeth as she swung the cue and made contact with his shoulders. Oh drat, he was apparently wearing padding; her blow did not even faze him. Surprisingly agile, he took a few quick steps in order to put the large table between him and Cecily’s murderous rage.

  She had been willing to entrust him with Stephen’s child! She’d been going to give him an heir! She had decided to be noble about their marriage rather than allow her father to obtain an annulment. “You lying, deceitful cad! Did you not think anybody would discover that you had married your precious Daphne? How could you?”

  Another swipe, but she missed entirely this time. The table was too wide, making it impossible for her to reach him. She chased him around the table and caught him once on the arm. He may be agile, but she was livid.

  “Cecily, stop, wait! It doesn’t matter. Daphne has left the country. She no longer wants me! Desist, Cecily! Ouch!” He stopped to rub his arm, giving Cecily the opportunity to take another, more effective swing. But when she went to throw her weight into the motion, the cue would not move.

  Not bothering to turn around to see what, or rather who, impeded her intentions, she merely said, “Let go, Stephen. This is between Flavion and myself.”

  Stephen’s hands covered hers for a moment, and he slid them down the length of the stick a few inches. “If you move your hands down here,” he said calmly, “Your strikes will carry more force.”

  And then he released her. She was once again free to bash Flavion over the head if she so wished.

  Instead, she turned around.

  Stephen had stepped away after releasing the cue and put his hands in the air, as though surrendering. He merely raised one eyebrow and shrugged slightly. “Give it your best, Cecily, and when you are through, I shall finish him off for the both of us.”

  Flavion let out something of a wail. “Stephen! Take the cue away from her. She’s trying to kill me!”

  At Flave’s words, Stephen took another step backward and then leaned casually against the brocaded wall. Crossing one foot in front of the other, he shook his head. “Flavion, you’ve gone too far this time. You are my cousin, practically my brother, but I shall not protect you from this — from her.” He frowned. “Two wives? Flavion? How could you possibly think you could get away with it?”

  Ignoring the danger of another attack from Cecily, Flavion dropped into a nearby chair and buried his head in his hands. “I did not plan it. It just… happened.”

  “Weddings do not simply just happen, Flavion,” Stephen said sarcastically.

  They both seemed to have forgotten Cecily’s presence. She lowered the cue and watched as Flavion tried to explain this all away.

  “Well, Daphne and I had eloped, and then she told me that her dowry was only five thousand pounds. I told her I could not afford to keep the earldom properly. I told her I needed far more than that to pay off my debts, in order to keep the properties from falling into ruin.”

  “And then?” Cecily asked acerbically. “How did you convince Miss Cunnington to relinquish her position? She was your countess, after all. I have a very hard time seeing her willingly let go of the lofty title.”

  “It was her idea,” Flave said in earnest. “She even told me about you. She told me that no gentleman had been willing to take you seriously, even with your dowry.”

  “Did she plan on living as your mistress for the rest of her life, then?” Stephen asked in a quietly lethal voice.

  “Well, no, actually.” Flavion looked off to the side. “She said we would deal with that matter in due time.”

  These words, once spoken, charged the air with a new tension.

  Sensing something in Stephen she hadn’t seen before, Cecily watched as his posture came alert. It was as though he were a lion, watching his prey, waiting for a moment to kill.

  “She would deal with the matter of your public wife, Cecily, in fact, how? Did you know of her plans to kill Cecily all along?” Stephen’s self-contained voice barely held back a flood of suppressed rage.

  Flavion’s eyes opened wide. “But I would not really allow it! We had a row, and I told her she was going to have to live as my mistress until we could figure something else out. I told her to stop attempting to harm Cecily. You must believe me.”

  Believe him?

  Believe a perpetual lying, good-for-nothing womanizer? “Why would I believe anything you say, Flavion?” Cecily inserted. “Since we were first introduced, it has been one lie after another.” She had been right about Miss Cunnington’s intentions all along. “But after your injury,” Cecily said, with dawning comprehension, “she no longer wished to acknowledge your marriage. She didn’t want anything to do with you at all.”

  Flavion shook his head sadly. “You are correct. And since she no longer wanted me, I figured we could simply forget about the other marriage and make a go of this one.”

  The room fell silent then. Each occupant apparently caught up in their own thoughts.

  “But we will not,” Cecily finally said. She felt Stephen’s eyes upon her. “You must send for your wife. She will take her rightful place.” All of the fighting energy she’d felt only moments before, deserted her completely. “I’m going to go
home… to my father’s estate. Perhaps I will leave the country. I won’t stay here any longer, Flavion. I do not belong. I never did.” As she turned to leave, she could not bear to look Stephen in the eyes. She would not allow him to take responsibility for her. She would not.

  She proceeded to her bedchamber and then ordered Sally to begin packing her bags. Was it worth it? She would very soon be unable to fit into most of her new gowns. And the next time she might have cause to wear them, most assuredly, the fashions would have changed. Pulling out and admiring one of the gowns Madam had sewn from her own designs, however, she decided she must bring them all. They were too beautiful to abandon. And she most definitely did not wish to leave them for Miss Cunnington, of all people.

  She must have faith that there would come a time for dressing up, a time for dancing, again in her life. She only wished that it could be sooner rather than later.

  But for now, she must cut her losses and go home. Her father had thought he would not have his daughter back, but what a surprise he was in for! And not a pleasant one, either. Oh, dear, he would most assuredly demand the full return of her dowry. She had grown fond of some of the people who worked for Flavion. It would not be fair for them to suffer due to their master’s misdeeds. Perhaps she could convince her father to relinquish the part of the dowry that was invested into the properties. Perhaps her papa would do that for her.

  Otherwise, she knew, Stephen would be the one to pay.

  With a sob, she threw herself onto the bed.

  Stephen!

  “As an unmarried woman, suddenly, Cecily, you will be ruined,” he had said. “But I shall marry you. You shall not be forced to live in disgrace.”

  Did he not realize that she cared nothing for Society? She was born the daughter of a merchant — of a very successful businessman. She believed in industry and productivity, both of which were disdained by the haute ton. She had only made three friends in the two years of balls and afternoon teas over the course of two whole years. And they had only found each other due to their status as rejected wallflowers. Why ever would she put any value upon the opinions of that group of lazy, vicious-minded popinjays?

  She felt a slight twinge at the thought of never going back, but it was nothing compared to the excruciating pain she felt at the thought of never being with Stephen again. Soon he would most likely thank his lucky stars she had refused his offer. He was a man who traveled extensively. He too, valued industry and productivity. He would most likely also value his independence.

  A knock on the door to her bedchamber interrupted her bout of self-pity. Cecily pulled a handkerchief out of a pocket hidden in her skirts and wiped at her eyes. “Enter,” she said tiredly, thinking it would be the footmen who had been sent to retrieve her trunks from the attic.

  But it was not.

  It was Stephen.

  He looked a bit sheepish, standing in the open doorway with his hands shoved in his pockets. He leaned against the doorframe and smiled crookedly at her. “How are you holding up?”

  With a sniff and a tilt to her chin, she answered truthfully, “As well as can be expected. I mean, this is good news. Right? It’s what I wanted all along.” Except that she wanted more! She wanted so much more! “I will leave first thing in the morning. I will speak with my father in regard to repayment of my dowry. It’s not fair the earldom fail merely because Flavion is a crook. The people who depend upon it do not deserve to suffer. It would be difficult for them to find new positions… new homes.”

  Watching her intently, as he had done often in the past, Stephen tilted his head to one side. “And my offer? You are determined still to refuse me?”

  What she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and beg for him to love her. It took a great deal of self-control to stick to her convictions. But she would remain firm on this. If ever again she deigned to give herself to a man, she would be certain she had his love first.

  “I thank you for your consideration, Stephen, but I know it is not something you really wish for. I believe I have told you more than once you take far too much responsibility for Flavion. You mustn’t do that with me as well. That’s no reason to marry.”

  Stephen pushed himself away from the door and took a few steps closer to her. “You believe I proposed out of some sense of duty? Why would you think that?”

  She closed her eyes and turned away from him. She didn’t want his pity. “Because… you are so used to taking care of Flavion’s troubles you are merely lumping me in with everything else. I don’t want to be another complication for you to solve…”

  He was directly behind her now.

  “What do you want, Cecily?” he asked softly, bending his head so close to her she could feel the heat from his words.

  This must be another form of Nottingham torture. “I want to live far away from London. I want to…”

  …be your wife. I want to be the mother of your child and live with you as my husband…

  But she could not say the words. Was she such a coward then? Or was it merely some stupid sense of pride she bowed to?’

  “What do you want?” he asked again. “You want to leave here, and you want… what?”

  Turning around abruptly, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and shook her head. “I will not marry without love. It is something I do not wish to experience a second time.”

  He stepped away from her, his eyes suddenly shuttered. “I beg your pardon.” He turned his head away and looked out the window. “I ought to have realized. I guess I had only hoped…” He trailed off, put his shoulders back, and turned as though to leave.

  “You had rather hoped…?” What was he saying?

  “It’s of no matter. I quite understand.”

  It was her turn to halt his departure. “What do you want?”

  Steeling his jaw, Stephen nodded and then looked directly at her. “I had hoped my proposal would be welcomed by you. I had hoped you would wish to become my wife.” He looked down at his hands. “But I cannot expect you to want to marry on the heels of the betrayal you’ve gone through.”

  Feeling hopeful, truly hopeful for the first time in several weeks, Cecily placed one of her hands upon his. It was her turn to be brave. “I would welcome a proposal from the man that I love. If, that is, he loved me in return.” She held her breath. He would never lie to her about this. He would never do what Flavion had done, no matter what his reasons.

  He grasped her hand tightly between his and returned her gaze steadily. “It is up to me then, to discover if I am that man?”

  She nodded.

  Surprising her, Stephen dropped to one knee and placed her hand against his lips. “I love you, Cecily. It seems that fate is on my side, and I ought to thank my damnable cousin for bringing you into my life. God help me, but I loved you when you were the last person in the world I should have loved. I loved you when I thought I was going to have to abandon you to your marriage, and by God, I loved you when you went after Flave today with the billiards cue.

  “And now that you are a free woman, I love that I can make an honorable offer for you. Will you? Will you be my wife? Am I the man you speak of?”

  Feeling her heart might burst from joy, she could hardly breathe.

  And then she could. “You are!” Her words came out in a rush of air. “You know you are! Of course, you are! Yes. Yes! Yes!” She threw her arms around him, nearly propelling them both onto the floor. “You must know!” And then she was sitting upon his knee and kissing his face, his neck, his lips. She had missed him so very, very much.

  She rose to her feet and beckoned him toward the bed. Her behavior was wanton, she knew, but where Stephen Nottingham was concerned…

  He had one arm around her and kissed her with equal enthusiasm but would not allow her to pull him onto the bed. He was laughing and smiling into her mouth though.

  “Cecily,” he said cajolingly, “Cecily, my love, I am almost completely without willpower where you are concerned, but I would wish to speak
with your father. I want to do this right. I would not compromise you any more than I have already. Let me do this the right way.” But he kissed her back and held her against him tightly. “There are several details to be ironed out, what with this mess with Flavion. I might get you with child. Best not to push our luck, love.”

  And then Cecily remembered! How could she have forgotten? “Um,” she said, pulling away to look at him, suddenly concerned again, “I think that ship has already sailed, so to speak.”

  He tilted his head at her with a twitch of his lip, what she now knew was somewhat of a smile.

  “It is just that….” Oh, fiddlesticks. How, exactly, did one go about this? “Do you think we might possibly be able to get those details ironed out quickly?” Seeing that he still had not comprehended what she was saying, she suddenly blurted it out, “I am carrying your child.” She held her breath as she watched for his reaction. It had been a long time since they’d been together, and although he had professed to love her, she was nervous as to his reaction to her news. She needed to tell him all of it. “I have felt so wretched! I was going to let Flavion think the child was his because I thought him my husband. I wanted to tell you but had presumed nothing could be done. And now… and now…” Looking up at him, she pouted. “You do still want me, don’t you?”

  It started with one ironic chuckle and then a few more as Stephen began shaking his head. Before she could admonish him for his amusement at such a serious matter, his entire body quaked with laughter. “I should not laugh, Cecily. I know that I should not,” he said, wiping moisture from his eyes. “But, dear God! We are so damnably lucky! We came so close…”

  He swiped one hand across his mouth in an attempt to contain himself, apparently realizing that she did not share in his mirth.

  “You are laughing at me!” Cecily accused.

  Suddenly serious, he pulled her against him and placed a soft, sweet kiss upon her frown. Cecily felt herself softening. Of course he still wanted her!

  “Oh, my poor, poor darling. I’m not laughing at you. I don’t know who I’m laughing at. Fate, perhaps? Or the fact that we’ve been given a miracle?” He grew serious then. “You have been through so much already. Of course, I want you! I did not think it possible to love you more, but I love you even more now than I did one minute ago. I will obtain a special license. And then I will take you to my home. Did I ever tell you that I have a home near Southampton?”

 

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