Cecilia's Claim (15 page)

"Now."
She stepped back. "Do you both take me and
each other in the same manner?"

"I do." Philippe's vow was echoed by Caleb.

"Good, I now pronounce us partners.
Lovers
and a family."
Cecy gasped. "Oh Lord.
Children?"
She stared at them, and her lips trembled. Caleb could feel the waves of worry
that emanated from her.

"I hope so." Caleb hurried to reassure her. "We are
all young, fit and healthy. I see no reason why not."

"No, that's not what I meant. I meant would it matter that we
don't know who sires them? It makes no difference to me, but as my body is both
of yours, well…" she blushed.

"Ah love, nor to us. Do you think we haven't hoped for this
moment for an age?" Philippe rushed to reassure her. "Any children
will be ours, of us three, even though they will bear Caleb's name. I will
settle money on all of them as well as for all of us. My coffers are healthy."

 
"It's not the
money." She sounded indignant. "It was the heritage. But if you are
fine, there is nothing more to worry over. Except what do I wear for this
wedding? I have no woman's clothes and I refuse to be married in a pair of
Caleb's old breeches."

"It's all sorted," Philippe said. "Now shall we be
traditional? Cecy come with me, I am to play ladies' maid, and Caleb will stay
here. It is considered bad luck for the bride and
groom
to see each other until the wedding." He took her hand. It was clammy.

"What?" Her voice wobbled. "And when is the
wedding?"

Philippe lifted his pocket watch from the top of a tallboy.
"In an hour or so.
It wants but a few minutes to
midnight, so now we leave Caleb to pretty
himself
."

Cecy sniggered. "I don't want a pretty man. I want my men as
you are."

Philippe looked from his erect cock to Caleb's and smiled.
"That's good, because this seems to be the state of affairs when we're
with you. But I think Reverend Ashburton would have something to say if the
groom and best man attended the wedding in their birthday suits with their
cocks primed and ready for action. So shall we?" He raised one eyebrow.

Cecy kissed Caleb on the cheek. "I am the luckiest woman in
Christendom. Let's hurry for we have a wedding to attend."

****

"So what
am
I to
wear?" Cecy asked as they walked along the corridor toward another wooden
door. "Have you conjured up a stash of ladies' wear?"

"Nothing so dramatic I'm afraid. I arranged for a few of your
gowns to be...er, shall we say, purloined. I particularly like you in
green." He opened the door and stood back to let her precede him into the
room. Hanging from the wardrobe door was a pale green gown that shimmered in
the lamplight. Philippe wondered if she realized it was the dress she wore when
the three of them were first together.

"Ah, you remembered." It seemed she did. "This has
long been my favorite gown. I associate it with you both. I will be delighted
to wed in it."

"Then let's dress you." He lifted the gown from its
hanger and slid it over her head. "No
chemise with it,
just as you were
on that night."

Cecy smoothed the silk over her hips as Philippe tied the bows
under her breasts.

"I fear my hair will not be sophisticated and smooth as
befits a bride. But then sophisticated and smooth were never words associated
with me, nor do I ever think they will." She picked up a brush and with
quick deft strokes ran it through the curls that covered her head. "There,
that is me.
Now you?"

Philippe grinned. "Are you to play valet?"

Cecy shook her head and the curls she had tried to tame sprang out
once more. "Oh no, I'm going to be voyeur."

Would she ever cease to surprise him? He hoped not. Philippe
opened the wardrobe and took out pantaloons, shirt and jacket.
"Perhaps not as formal as it should be, but it will have to
do."
He dressed swiftly, conscious of her gaze on him. "Will
we do?"

Cecy smiled and her eyes sparkled. "We will." Her
expression sobered.

"Philippe, truly are you happy with this? I belong to you
both; you know that, but a wedding where you have to stand to one side? Will it
work for you?"

He gathered her close and rubbed her arms. They were chilly.
"Damn," he castigated himself. "You need a shawl.
One moment."
Philippe walked across the room and pulled
out a draw. "This will work." He walked back to Cecy and wrapped the
long lacy material around her bare shoulders. "Better?"

She nodded. "This lace does scratch, though." She
wrinkled her nose. "It is somewhat annoying not to remember who said that
to me."

He kissed her on the appendage she was screwing up. "Don't
think about it, it will come. Think about your wedding. For
we
three know both your vows include me, and I will echo them under my breath.
Ready?"

She smiled, a smile so full of love and promise it almost took his
breath away. He body tensed with an expectation of something so overwhelming,
he wanted to cry. Instead he swallowed rapidly. "Cecy, you do know how
much I love you?" Philippe asked urgently.

She stoked his cheek, and her soft touch sent spirals of
excitement coursing through him.
"Of course, and I you.
Both of you or I would not be here. One moment, I have a thought. And yes
before you open your mouth, another one." Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
Philippe chuckled.

"How well you know me, my love. So,
your
thought?"

"Well, if you are to be best man, who will give me
away?"

"I will."

The voice from the doorway sent her whirling around. The tall man
standing there winked at Philippe. "The bridegroom is already in the
church. You best go to him. We'll be there in five minutes."

Cecy stood as if she'd seen a ghost.

"Randall?"

"Well, of course. Yes, it should be Papa or Perry, but they
are not on hand and I am. Will I do?"

She flew across the room and clung to her brother. Satisfied,
Philippe left them.

"Shall we?" Randall asked as he took Cecy's arm and they
followed in Philippe's wake. "I am so pleased you have your chance of
happiness," he said.
"'tis nigh on time."

"Ah Randall, your turn will come soon." They walked and
walked swiftly down the stairs and out of the house toward the tiny chapel a
few yards away to where the others were waiting.

"I rather think it has," Randall said, and pointed in
front of them.

Standing outside the chapel door examining the ivy was a tall,
handsome man who twisted round and smiled. In his hand he held a single rose
which he presented to Cecy with a bow.

"Hello, my lady
. '
Tis but a small
thing but in lieu of anything else to carry, I would be honored?" With his
free hand he tugged on the ivy in a nervous gesture. It remained fast to the
wall.

"Jason?" she said in disbelief as she took the rose and
held it to her
face
to sniff the exquisite perfume.
"Are you checking for escape routes?"

He chuckled. "Old habits die hard."

"Hmmm well, I trust you will not need to escape from my
wedding." She ran the rosebud across her cheek and felt its silky softness
kiss her skin. "Oh, this is perfect. I thank you." She looked from
his smiling face to that of her brother. Cecy had never seen such love and
contentment there. "Oh Randall is all well?
Truly?"

Randall kissed her cheek. "All is perfect, love. Now let's
get you wed, and I will have no worries."

She squeezed his arm. "I'm ready."

****

"Ahh all is well?" Caleb asked, echoing her words and
unable to keep the worry from his voice as Philippe walked up the aisle to
stand by Caleb's side.

"Of course," Philippe reassured him. "She was
pleased to see
Randall,
and Jason and they are on
their way."

"The bride is not annoyed at the time you have chosen for
this wedding?" the vicar asked. "It's as well I know you my lord, for
I will have to ignore the true time and change am to pm for the marriage to be
legal." He sighed. "But I trust you have a reason for this so I will
acquiesce."

"It is appreciated," Caleb assured him. "And the
need for secrecy and haste is as I explained.
To keep her
safe."

The door to the church opened with a creak, and all three men
looked in its direction. Cecy walked toward them her face radiant. It was but a
few steps to meet them. She held on to her brother's arm. Jason walked one step
behind, like, as he had said with a smile, a bride's maid. Philippe decided if
Jason couldn't keep his eyes off Randall's arse, who could blame him? By the
way Randall kept sneaking looks at Jason, he felt the same.

As the bridal party reached the alter Philippe saw Cecy squeeze
Randall's arm and mouth the words 'thank you'.

As we are here, let's begin." Reverend Ashburton cleared his
throat, and began to recite the well-known words of the wedding service.

To Philippe, standing next to Caleb in the shadowy chapel and
listening as his lovers took their
vows,
it was a
moment of mystery and magic. He could hear his own voice inside his head
repeating each vow, and it was as if both Caleb and Cecelia added his name to
each of the others. Beside Cecy, Randall stood quiet, though Philippe fancied a
cloud of sadness crossed his face more than once. He wondered if the rumors
he'd heard about Randall's preferences were true. If so it would account for
his demeanor. Philippe well knew those who loved in certain ways could never be
open and honest about their loves.

As the service drew to a close, and the cleric pronounced Caleb
and Cecy man and wife he beamed. "You may now kiss the bride. Ah I meant
the groom may, not the rest of you, not yet."

Cecy with a swift glance at Caleb had turned to Philippe. "We
decided, the first kiss is for you," she whispered. Her lips touched his,
and heat exploded throughout his body. His cock reacted and hardened, as her
tongue slipped into his mouth for one brief moment. Then she moved back and
turned to Caleb who had stood and watched, the love in his eyes evident for all
to see.

"Ah, well, let's sign the register, make it all official and
I'll get back to the vicarage before my lady wife is aware I'm not in my study
writing my sermon." Reverend Ashburton produced the marriage registry, and
they set to. It took scant minutes before he was on his way.

"He barely let the ink dry." Cecy remarked as she looked
at each of them in turn.
"So what now?"

"The wedding breakfast, of course."
Randall said.
"Which I have placed in your kitchen."

"Good, I'm famished." On cue Cecy's stomach rumbled and
she giggled. "Let's go." She took one of Philippe's arms and linked
it with her own. Caleb took her other side, and Philippe saw Randall and Jason
fall in behind.

They walked the short distance to the house. As they reached the
threshold, Caleb halted.

"One moment, love, we need to do this properly. He looked at
Philippe. "Are you ready?"

Philippe nodded.
"Of course."
In one swift move they disengaged themselves from Cecy, linked arms and made a
seat for her. Randall guided her to sit.

"Now we observe tradition once more," Caleb remarked.
"And carry you over the threshold.”

"Tradition is for the groom to do so," Randall said, his
voice laced with good humor. "Though as I know to my sister you are both
equally her grooms, this is correct." He swung open the door.

As they trod up the steps, the lacy material around Cecy's arms
slipped. She went to grasp it and winced.

"Ouch, the damned stuff
scratches as you
wear it, and slips
when to try to secure it. Why we bother
is…Gussie." She exclaimed. "Gussie Gravesend. That's where I've seen
this before.
At her masquerade.
She had lace, and said
those very words."

They set her on to her feet.
" Quick
,
into the kitchen where we can eat and talk in the warm." Randall trod
across the stone flags toward the kitchen and the others followed. The tug of
excitement in Philippe's gut told him this was what they'd been waiting for.

"Gussie Gravesend?
Mortimer's wife?
Are you sure,
love
?"

Even the air seemed to wait for her answer.

"Oh I'm sure. And she has silks, more than any other woman I
know. I had not thought Lord Gravesend so prosperous, to be honest." She
walked to the table and took up a chicken leg. "Why?"

"Cecy, love, I do believe you have given us the breakthrough
we need." Philippe looked at the other two men. "What say you?"

Randall swore. "All this time, and my sister gives me the
answers I need. I'll away with Jason and set things moving. Ah, enjoy your
wedding night. Tomorrow will be busy."