by Dawn Brower
She emitted an unladylike snort before she kissed him back. “I’d say this is the best Christmas I’ve spent in some time.” She patted his cheek. Her smile could rival the power of the North Star. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He pulled away and grinned when she faltered in her steps while righting her night dress. “What now?” Quickly, he tucked his flaccid member into his breeches and did up the buttons.
“Now?” She shoved a lock of hair from her face. “I am going abovestairs to return to my bed.” The glance she landed on him brimmed with banked heat. “Alone, for we do still have a responsibility toward those children.”
The thought of parting from her, even for a handful of hours, seemed like an eternity that he couldn’t bear. “I suppose you are correct.” He moved toward the door and once he’d turned the key and rested a hand on the latch, he looked at her form over his shoulder. “You’ve given me a most remarkable gift.”
Her soft, throaty laughter in his ear as she joined him sent gooseflesh sailing over his skin and renewed interest in his prick. “What, the stick pin?”
“No. You.” And because he feared he wouldn’t see the same devotion in her eyes as he felt for her, he fled the parlor like the coward he suspected he was, for what sort of man had relations with a woman in his employ without securing a future for her?
Chapter 9
Christmas afternoon
Phoebe hummed one of her favorite carols as she put another seed cake onto her saucer next to her teacup.
The young people were quietly talking in groups around the drawing room while she and Cecil remained on a pair of settees with the detritus from the brief repast around them on chairs and low tables.
“Careful, Miss Pennyroyal, else you’ll lose your stern veneer in front of those girls,” he said in a low voice as he stirred milk into his second cup of tea.
She gave into a grin as she glanced at him, primly balancing her saucer on her knee as she took a sip of her own beverage. “At the moment, I rather think I don’t care. I am happy.”
“Ah, due to this being the day of Christ’s birth.” He sent a glance across the room. “And Emily and her friends are, at present, operating at low volume.”
“No.” She gazed at him from over the rim of her cup. “Because of you, and what we did… earlier.”
By rights she should be outraged or at the least scandalized. Didn’t the core of what they taught at her finishing school preach against this very scenario? Yet she felt neither of those things. Overwhelmingly, the emotion that rolled through her the most was happiness, the kind of pure feeling a person knew when life was truly amazing.
She refused to feel shame or regret over what she’d shared with him. Being a widow afforded her many things, and she knew her own mind. She’d wanted to share love making with this man, and if she had the choice, she would have done the same thing over again.
He cleared his throat. “Now that you’ve had time to process it, you are not furious with me for taking advantage?”
“Such gammon you speak, Mr. Tame.” Phoebe laughed. She laid her cup and saucer on the low table before her. “If I remember correctly, you didn’t take advantage when I fully gave you permission.” She winked. “I know my own mind.”
“That you do.”
No more was said, for a whine went through the assembled young people that spoke of their growing boredom once more.
“It would appear are halcyon respite is about to be shattered,” she murmured as the young people stood and approached them.
“It is still raining,” Emily announced with a frown to the window.
As if that is my fault. Phoebe lifted an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon, but I seemed to have misplaced my fairy wand and thusly cannot change the weather simply because you wish it.”
Across from her, Cecil choked on a swallow of tea.
The company largely ignored him. Emily flounced onto the settee next to him. “What shall we do? It is Christmas and we want some sort of entertainment.”
“Can you not be inventive and use what is available to you?” Cecil asked once he’d recovered.
“Oh, Uncle, you are no help,” Emily complained.
A couple of the boys held a whispered conference.
“I have a capital idea,” one of the young men interjected into dreary atmosphere of the parlor.
“What?” Emily sprang to her feet, her expression once more hopeful.
“Let’s grab a mattress from one of the beds. We can use it to ride down the staircase, like my brother and I did with sleds on the snow back home. Whoever manages to stay on for the whole trip wins.”
“Wins what?” one of the other girls asked.
The boy shrugged then he grinned. “A trip under the mistletoe.” He gestured at the small bunch of greenery hanging from the doorframe.
Cecil groaned. “Within reason and monitored the whole time.”
“May we, Miss Pennyroyal?” Emily threw a plaintive glance her way.
Phoebe looked across the room at Cecil. “Was this your doing?” She had no problem imagining him at the boys’ age and going for domestic adventure such as that. “It sounds like something you’d do as a child.”
He held up his hands and shook his head. “I promise I had nothing to do with it. Their young minds came up with all on their own, though, if I was many years younger, it would be just the thing to pass the time.”
Not wanting the guests to put themselves into unnecessary danger but not willing to listen to another couple of hours filled with complaints, Phoebe nodded her permission at Emily. “Go ahead, though I believe I’ll sit this one out. It is one game I do not care to partake of.”
“That’s all right, Miss Pennyroyal. We cannot all be bold and daring.” Emily ran from the parlor, quickly followed by the rest of her guests.
“If only she knew how bold I can be.” Phoebe rolled her eyes as she stood.
“I wonder what she’d say if she knew what we did last night?
“Let us pray she never suspects.” She gave into a smile even as heat slapped her cheeks. “Does it reflect badly on me that merely thinking about such an undertaking as they’ll do just makes me tired?”
“Not at all. No doubt you’re fatigued by your exertions of the morning.” He snorted when she threw a speaking glance at him. “It could also mean you have enough common sense not to throw yourself down the stairs on a bed mattress.”
“Of course, because there are better uses for mattress than that, don’t you think?” How fun it was to banter like this.
“Now that’s the mind I’ve come to respect.” He grinned while he offered her his arm. “Shall we go watch the spectacle under the guise of monitoring the situation?”
Common sense indeed. If she had any, she’d try everything she could think of to find a permanent replacement for the chaperone position because being near Cecil in any capacity was proving to be quite the challenge, especially after they’d come together erotically that morning. The longer she lingered, the more her heart would be caught. Yet, the silliness and desire that had swamped her since meeting him wouldn’t abate, and she wanted all the time in his company she could get. “Who knows, it might prove to be very entertaining.” And it would help occupy her thoughts. She looped her arm through his and allowed him to lead her out of the room.
Bloody hell. Just touching him in a commonplace way sent flutters tumbling into her lower belly.
Shortly afterward, Emily and her friends gathered around the bottom of the staircase while the boy who suggested the lark stood at the first landing with Banks. The ginger-haired lad chose to stretch out on his belly on the mattress. When he yelled to begin, Banks pushed the mattress. The boy sailed down the stairs before the mattress went cockeyed, resulting in the boy falling off and tumbling down the rest of the stairs sans conveyance.
“Good heavens, someone is going to break their necks.” Phoebe started toward the stairs, but the lad sprang to his feet with the biggest grin s
he’d ever seen.
“That was the greatest fun! Who’s next?”
While Emily raised her hand and bounced up and down, Cecil led Phoebe to the opposite side of the foyer. “We may as well make ourselves comfortable. It looks like this activity will occupy them for the conceivable future and that is infinitely better than watching them mope.”
She couldn’t abandon her responsibility. “What if one of them splits their head open, or breaks an arm, or the girls can go tip over tail. What if their skirts hitch up, or—”
Cecil laid a finger over her lips, despite the fact they could be seen. “Phoebe?”
“Yes?” Tiny fires erupted throughout her blood and added confusion to the desire the heightened her awareness of him.
He withdrew his hand. “Don’t overthink it. This is just good, harmless fun because we cannot very well throw these children outside into the rain.” He sat on the marble floor with his back to the wall and his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. Ten feet away, Emily came to a halt, still on the mattress. The girls squealed and the boys let out a round of cheers. Her eyes sparkled and high color stained her cheeks. “Look at her. She’s enjoying herself and not worrying for the moment. I’d say this plan is a rousing success.”
“Perhaps.” Still, she frowned as one of the boys lugged the mattress back to the landing. Banks helped situate him onto it then gave him a push. Was that a smile breaking through the man’s crusty exterior?
“You worry too much.” Cecil gave a section of her skirts a light tug. “Come sit with me. Isn’t that what proper older folks do?”
“We are the farthest thing from proper,” she said in a barely there whisper. Phoebe looked down at him then caught her breath at the mischief lurking in his gaze, but when he gave her that smile he reserved only for her—the one full of cheek and charm—her heart trembled. Already, she’d lingered here too long, for she’d somehow managed to fall for him. Stupid, Phoebe. He’ll leave Brighton when he grows weary of this life and then where will you be? “Very well.” She sank onto the floor beside him. The cold from the marble seeped through her skirts, but her side close to Cecil burned so she didn’t notice the chill overly much.
“Do you particularly need that shawl around your shoulders?” His tone suggested he didn’t care either way.
“Well, it is keeping me warm. Why?”
He shrugged. “I was thinking of using it to put over both our laps since it is rather chilly with the front door so close.” He captured her gaze. “Don’t you think?”
Her cheeks burned. What was he about now? “I suppose.”
“You shouldn’t cover your charms with that garment anyway,” he continued in a low voice. “I must prefer seeing the curve of your breasts and imagining.”
“Do stop.” Her nipples tightened as if they agreed with his line of thought. She unknotted the shawl then slid it off her shoulders and handed it to him. “You’re more than welcome to it though I doubt it will provide much protection.” Truly, the man had lost his mind. “And it won’t flatter you.”
“Oh, I think it will be just fine for this purpose.” With a flourish, Cecil spread the shawl over their laps. Of course, it didn’t quite cover them both all the way. Then, in the space between them that remained covered by the garment, he brushed her hand with his.
Tingles shot up her arm. Had he meant to do that? When she edged her hand away, he chased it, finally grabbing it and twining her fingers with his. “Mr. Tame, what are you doing?” Flutters filled her belly even as the heat from his hand transferred to hers. Answering tremors moved through her core, and she shifted in place. How could this one man make her feel so many things in such a short period of time?
“Hush, Miss Pennyroyal. Don’t you feel warmer already?” He stared straight ahead as if he were intently watching the antics of the young people instead of causing her all kinds of unsettling and exciting feelings.
She swept her gaze along his strong jaw, over his ear, down his shoulder then finally to the shawl that hid their joined hands. “I believe I do. Thank you.”
“Too bad this is merely a shawl and a lacy one at that.”
“Why?”
“If it were a quilt, I’d have more space available and I would do more with this hand than just hold yours.” He squeezed her fingers.
“Oh?” Was there no end to his scandalous suggestions? Curiosity got the better of her as Emily took another trip down the stairs. “What would you do?”
He leaned closer to her. “Caress your hip, your leg, perhaps take a liberty and explore between your sweet thighs and find out if you’re still as wet for me now as you were this morning.”
“Do hush!” How bold he was, how brash. She turned her head and caught his grin in profile. How dear. It would be horrible when she had no choice but return to the school once the holiday break was over.
“Well?” He continued to watch the young people’s antics.
“Well what?” She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing she knew what he referred to.
“Are you?” He squeezed her fingers again.
She huffed in pretend exasperation. “Yes.”
“Better and better.” He said nothing else. Neither did she. There was no need.
A smile curved her lips as she watched one of Emily’s girlfriends take her turn down the stairs. Sitting here next to Cecil with their hands entwined and talking of scandalous things made her feel more content than she had in a long time.
If only it could last.
Chapter 10
Two days after Christmas
Cecil glanced around the dining room as the company finished eating dinner. Cook had made delectable roasted chicken with potatoes done in the chicken’s juices. The diners had enjoyed the simple meal anyway. Of late, he’d looked forward to sitting down to the evening meal with the two women in his life and couldn’t imagine a time he’d lived without either of them at his table.
The knowledge that he was a very lucky man pressed upon him daily as did the cloying panic that once the holiday ended and Emily returned to the finishing school, so too would Phoebe be removed from his life.
It is untenable.
Yesterday, after the mattress game had died down, the party members had gone their separate ways for quiet time while he and Phoebe had returned to the very parlor where they shared each other’s bodies. They’d talked of the games they’d played in their childhoods of the places he’d visited in his travels, of her favorite pieces of literature, everything except the mutual desire that connected them. And then Banks had requested his help with a concern in the stable. Thanks to other problems that required his attention and yet another shopping excursion the females took, he hadn’t see her since then.
And he’d missed her. Acutely. She’d been in his life for nearly a week. How was he expected to survive without her? I will just have to make certain t doesn’t come to that.
Now, he couldn’t wait to converse with Phoebe again, perhaps get her alone, meet her in the dead of night once more. His body called to her, craved her, and he wanted her in his life for much more than satisfying a base instinct. He adored listening to her voice. Each gentle inflection carried him away and made him long to experience her companionship for much longer than her temporary term of companion would give him. Each roll of her eyes and the way she tilted her head when considering a request tugged at his heart. Cecil tucked away those thoughts. No use hungering for something that might not come to pass. They’d yet to discuss anything beyond the current day facing them. Besides, today was Emily’s birthday, and he should concentrate his focus on her.
Devil take it. Have I neglected her since becoming enchanted with her headmistress?
If so, he’d failed them both. And he didn’t wish to begin a life with either of them on bad terms.
He shoved that disconcerting thought away. Today was also special since Phoebe’s son, Max, had joined them for the last few days of the house party. Cecil studied
the boy. In that tall and gangly stage of youth, he was all limbs and angles. He possessed the same blond hair that his mother did and the same blue eyes, but the rest of his features must have belonged to his father. They sat side by side, with their heads together, talking occasionally with laughter punctuating the conversation before she gently encouraged him to banter with the others at the table.
His chest tightened. He knew, deep down, she was an excellent mother. She would be a wonderful wife. But now was not the time for such a discussion. Cecil tapped his wineglass with the edge of his knife. The chatter died down. “Since it’s Emily’s fifteenth birthday, I think it’s time for some gifts. Unless we should wait until later?”
“No, no! Do it now!” Emily, in her exuberant fashion, wriggled in her chair. “If Miss Pennyroyal says it’s all right and proper, we should be fine.”
Every head at the table turned toward the headmistress. A faint stain of color brightened her cheeks. She briefly met his gaze and the heat in those blue depths had him shifting in his own chair. Finally, she nodded, and with a slight smile said, “I don’t see why not.”
Cecil’s heart skipped a beat and he grinned. “Then, everyone, by all means, go fetch your gifts and return here. We’ll commence shortly.” Everyone left the room except for Max and Emily. Of course, since Max came to the house party late and didn’t know Emily, he wouldn’t have brought a gift. “Good evening. I’m Mr. Cecil Tame.” He gestured to Emily. “This is my niece, Miss Emily Bertrand. I’m pleased you could make it for the remainder. I apologize there wasn’t time for introductions before now.”
Max gave a curt nod. “My mother mentioned you as the owner and host. Mr. Max Snell here.” When he glanced at Emily, a blush started at his neck and worked steadily upward to encompass his cheeks and ears. “I met Miss Bertrand earlier upon my arrival.”