The Devil's Own Luck (Once a Spy) (13 page)

He seemed in far too good a mood to have punishment on his mind.
    “For what?” she demanded.
    “Pick one. Or I’ll make love to you right where we stand.”
    Her eyes glittered as she laughed. “Inside, I think.”
    “Inside then.” He pushed open the door and pulled her inside.
    “Do you suppose anyone will come out here?” Though she had to admit that for some reason the very idea made it all the more exciting.
    “You make enough noise, my dear,” he said as he kicked the door shut behind him, “that if they do, they won’t dare come inside.”
    “You wretch! I do not!” she protested. A cursory glance told her that there was nothing even remotely resembling a bed in the vicinity, the floor was far too dirty to lie on and the only table didn’t look substantial enough to hold a hammer much less her body weight. “There isn’t any place to lie down. What should we do?”
    He backed her up against the wall. “Here, turn around,” he whispered.
    Her lips curved slowly. “Oh, brilliant.” She turned to face the wall.
    “Lift your skirt and petticoats and bend over a bit,” he said hoarsely.
    She quickly obliged, holding her breath, her body tense with anticipation as she waited.
    His palms cupped the curve of her buttocks, lifting and spreading. He reached beneath to find her swollen flesh already slick with passion.
    She gasped at the sensation it brought her. “Now. Please.”
    “Irresistible,” he murmured. He fumbled with his breeches and then drove deep inside her with one sweeping thrust. She gave a startled cry at the surge of pleasure. Holding her firmly against him he ran his hand down her belly to the point at which they joined. He cupped the mound of soft curls as he withdrew and then moved against her. His other palm cradled her breast and her body came to life. Warmth flowed through her veins. Need and sensation tore at her and if his arms had not been firmly locked about her she knew that her knees would have buckled. “We fit so well.” His voice was husky; almost mesmerizing. “You are the perfect height, the perfect size. Yesterday you were a child. How did this happen?”
    She took in a breath, her cheek resting against the wall, hands splayed on either side of her. “I grew up,” she breathed.
    “Thank God.”
    She tilted her hips further allowing him to plunge deeper. His pace increased and the heat within her spiraled until shivers of pleasure coursed through her and she was lost. And then so was he. He gripped her tightly as he spilled his seed into her womb.
    Only by the grace of God, were they still in an upright position. She could feel his heart hammering against her back. Finally he spoke.
    “Do you still want to tell your brother?”
    “No.” She grinned as she shook her head and laughter bubbled to the surface. “Or Papa.”
    “A wise decision. I suppose we must go back before they begin looking for us.”
    “Must we?”
    “I’d much rather spend the day imbedded in your sweet flesh, making you cry out like the wanton you are.” He groaned as he reluctantly pulled away. “I fear we must return to the house.”
    Her cheek still against the wall she said, “You understand that if this was a punishment, my behavior will likely worsen, don’t you?”
    “That was not my intent,” he said as he fastened the buttons on his breeches. “I’m curious. Did you really believe I would hit you? Now that I think about it, it’s rather insulting.”
    “I don’t know. I suppose I didn’t really.” She turned around to face him. “But still, you could have denied it instead of allowing me to become disconcerted,” she added accusingly. “It was quite hateful of you.”
    “I would never hurt you, Cecelia,” he said softly. “Never. It isn’t my nature to batter the fairer sex. Especially my wife.”
    “That’s good to know.” She grinned impishly.
    “Then again, don’t push your luck,” he warned.
    She twirled slowly. “Am I dusty?” He brushed at her skirts, his hand resting a little longer than needed on the curve of her hip. “No more so than you were before.”
    “Good. I was wondering, if I’m carrying, can we still make love? If not, then I would prefer to wait a bit to have our child. I suppose you could wear a sheath. Isn’t that what you said they were called?”
    “Yes.” He paused. “Are you certain that you’re not?”
    She felt a twinge of disappointment as she said, “I’ve no indication that I am, but I suppose it’s too soon to tell.”
    “It’s my understanding we can continue on as long as it’s comfortable for you or there aren’t complications.”
    A smile lit her face. “Oh, splendid. I would hate to give this up after having only recently discovered it.”
    He chuckled. “Your frankness never ceases to amaze me.”
    “But why? We’re married. Shouldn’t we be able to talk about making love and well as doing it? If not, then that’s just plain silly.”
    “Of course, we can talk about it. It’s only that most young women don’t care to. They find discussing one’s baser impulses rather crude.” His voice softened. “I want your candor. I want you to tell me what pleases you.”
    “Oh.” She frowned slightly, as she considered what he said. “Then I should like to do this again. Standing up, that is. I rather enjoy it. But can it be done face to face in the same manner? I mean we haven’t done that. Is that because it can’t be done? Or is it just because we haven’t? I rather thought we had tried everything, but I suppose I was wrong.”
    He burst into laughter. “Not exactly the same manner, but yes.”
    “Would you show me later tonight? I should like to try it now, but I suppose it’s out of the question. I know you need time to recover and of course we don’t have much time. Though in spite of what you told me there have been several occasions that it didn’t take much time at all.” She lowered her gaze to judge the effect she was having on him. Her words had been matter-of-fact but the strain against his breeches told her that her ploy was working. It wouldn’t take much to push him to the edge. “You’re dusty.”
    He looked down. “Where?”
    She placed her hand over his straining erection. “Here.”
    He groaned. “You’re a conniving wench.”
    “I am.” She slipped her hand inside the waistband of his breeches and wrapped her hand around him. He closed his eyes and caught his breath as she slid her hand up and down the shaft until he was fully erect. Rather pleased with her success she murmured, “You recover rather quickly don’t you? Doesn’t it normally take longer? Of course I wouldn’t know, being rather new at this.” She ran the pad of her thumb across the damp tip of his erection. “Please? Just once more?”
    He groaned again. “You leave me no choice. It appears you’ve convinced the part of me that matters most.”
    She laughed softly as she unbuttoned his breeches and pulled him free.
    “On your tiptoes, my girl.” She held up her skirts and he grabbed her bottom and hauled her up against him. She wrapped her legs around him as he entered her, then tilted back her head and laughed with delight.
    “I like this.” She shifted experimentally and found it created a wonderful new sensation. “Am I not too heavy to hold like this?”
    “Not yet.” He backed her against the wall then positioned her with her with the palms of his hands allowing him to slide in and out of that warm velvet passage. She closed her eyes as she rested her head against the wall. “You’re very good at this,” she murmured. “Very good.”
    It was close to an hour before they returned to the house.

D
inner at Danfield House was different than what Cecelia was accustomed to. There were no footmen to cater to their needs and, with the exception of Rosie and David, everyone ate together at a long table in the dining room. That first night, and exception had been made and the two youngest had been given permission to join the others. The table was set with simple white linens and a center piece of freshly cut flowers. The food was plain fare, but delicious; roast chicken, braised trout, boiled carrots and potatoes from the garden and sliced peaches with clotted cream.
    Rand’s sudden title didn’t appear to bear much weight with the children though initially the older children were somewhat reserved with her. The conversation was lively and on more than one occasion Rand found it necessary to restore order. Cecelia enjoyed herself immensely, but found herself struggling to remember all their names.
    At fourteen, Elizabeth was the oldest. She and Rosie shared the same mother and both had dark hair and large brown eyes. Marianne had light brown hair, a spatter of freckles across her cheeks and her nose perpetually in a book. Helen had blond hair, blue-gray eyes and had come from the same establishment as Trey, Robert and Nathan, who were nine, ten and twelve. All were given birthdays, but most of the children’s ages were little more than a guess. But one thing was certain. Only three of the children were old enough to be her husband’s siblings.
    Their bedchamber was far different from what she was accustomed to as well. No special accommodations had been made for the Marquis and Marchioness of Clarendon. Their room was much like those the staff slept in. The furnishings were minimal; a bed covered by a colorful quilt, an oak washstand, a small trunk and a lace covered table with a brace of candles by the bed. Later that evening, curled up in bed with her husband’s arms around her Cecelia sighed contentedly. “I like it here,” she murmured. “It’s very comfortable. There is one problem, though.”
    “I suppose you’d like a dressing table brought in. Not needing one myself I didn’t think of it. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
    “No. That’s not it.” She wiggled her bottom and snuggled up closer. “It’s only that by the time I learn everyone’s names it will be time to leave.”
    He lifted her hair and kissed the soft flesh behind her ear. “Then you’ll remember them for our next visit.”
    She shivered slightly as his lips traveled down the side of her neck. “What will happen to Danfield House when they’ve all grown up?”
    He lifted his head. “I’d like to keep it open, so I suppose I’ll have to round up more of the little monsters. Lord knows there are enough of them out there.”
    “You are a wonderful, generous, giving man.”
    “Of course, I am.”
    “The ton would be shocked.”
    “The ton would horrified. But you know that I don’t care what the ton thinks.”
    “And that’s why they adore you.”
    He brought his mouth down to her shoulder. “Mmm. Maybe. Mostly they adore my mother.”
    “I want to help you.”
    “You can help me by rolling over and allowing me to ravish you.”
    “I’m serious.”
    “So am I.”
    “No, I meant I want to help with Danfield House, somehow. There must be something I can do.”
    He grazed his lips across the top of her shoulder. “I’m certain there is, but I’d rather not discuss it at the moment.”
    “I could teach the children to dance. They’ll need to know how sooner or later. I could take the girls on a shopping expedition. I noticed that they were all nicely dressed.”
    “Elizabeth sews for them,” he murmured.
    “I know! I’ll teach the boys to fish. The girls, too. And they should know how to tickle trout. There’s nothing better on a hot summer day than tickling trout.”
    He sighed. “Cecelia.”
    “Mmm?”
    “Stop talking.” He rolled her over and she felt her legs open as he drew his knee up between them.
    She sighed. “If I must.”
    The room was dark and his face was shadowed but she felt his gaze flicker over her.
    “You must,” he said softly.

Over the next few days, Cecelia confirmed what she first suspected. Despite his grumbling, her husband was very good with children. And it was obvious that whether they were siblings or not, he loved all the children at Danfield House equally. He not only provided for them, but he set aside a portion of each day to spend time with them. The older ones he took into his office, though what they discussed she had no idea, as she wasn’t invited their meetings. But there was usually laughter and the occasional sounds of high jinks coming from the study where they were sequestered, and she realized with a shock that she was jealous. To be fair, he did try to include her in the time he spent with the younger children and that did provide a great deal of entertainment. The day following their arrival, she was seated in the drawing room in the midst of writing a letter to Priscilla, regaling the story of Ashley’s debut at Danfield House, when she heard his voice in the corridor.
    “Ah, there you are. Come and take a walk.” She might have thought he was suggesting a replay of their interlude in the storage shed if Rosie and David hadn’t been on either side of him, their cubby little hands clutched in his. The picture was quite endearing and her face lit up with pleasure as she carefully closed the top of the writing desk. “I would love to. Let me fetch my bonnet.” A few short minutes later, all four were in the garden enjoying the brilliance of a summer day.
    “Where shall we take Lady Clarendon?” Rand asked.
    Rosie tugged at his hand. “She said we may call her Cecelia.”
    He glanced at Cecelia who explained, “You don’t mind do you? It didn’t feel quite right to have them refer to you as Thomas and me as Lady Clarendon.”
    “You’ve a point,” he conceded. “Very well. Where shall we take Cecelia?”
    “The meadow,” Rosie said firmly.
    He looked down at David who was smiling and nodding his head in agreement.
    “That seems a fine idea. According to Doreen, you’ve been very boisterous today. Maybe the exercise will settle you down. And I believe I saw several balls in the storage shed the other day. Would you like to take one along?”
    “Oh, yes,” Rosie said as she skipped ahead, her dark braids bouncing with every step. Then she stopped abruptly and turned to face them. “Why were you in the storage shed, Thomas? You never go into the storage shed.”
    Cecelia held back a smile as he responded, “Nothing to speak of. I wanted to show Cecelia something.”
    “Oh.” Rosie obviously mulled this over in her head. “What did you want to show her?”
    “Don’t be impertinent,” he said sharply. “It isn’t polite to ask too many questions.”
    For a moment, Rosie appeared so crestfallen Cecelia thought she might cry. Then she drew her brows into a frown and asked guilelessly, “But how else am I to learn anything?”
    Cecelia stifled a giggle as she waited to hear his answer.
    He faltered a moment. “There are some things that you are not ready to learn.”
    “But if I’m old enough to ask,” she persisted. “Shouldn’t I be old enough to learn?”
    “Rosie,” he warned as he glared at Cecelia, who had lost her battle to contain her mirth. “The subject is closed.”
    “All right,” she said glumly. But it wasn’t more than a minute before she said, “Lizzy told me that you were frightfully rich. Are you Thomas? Because if you are, I wanted to ask if we might have swings. There’s one at the vicarage and it’s ever so much fun. But I would think we would need at least three, because it’s no fun waiting all day to have a turn.”
    Cecelia burst into laughter all over again, but Rand managed not to laugh. “I suppose I might be considered frightfully rich, Rosie, but it’s a very rude question to ask. It seems nurse hasn’t been teaching you your manners.”
    “Oh, but she does! She tries ever so hard. But I forget. She de... des...” Rosie wrinkled her brow as she thought. “She despairs of me,” she finished brightly.
    “So it seems,” Rand murmured. “I fear you are going to require a very large dowry.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you’re incorrigible.”
    She squatted down to examine a rock before she asked the inevitable question, “What’s incor--gable?”
    “It means you’re always into to mischief.” They had reached the shed. Rand propelled David forward. “You and Rosie find a ball.”
    As the two obligingly trotted into the shed Cecelia realized David hadn’t said a word in her presence since their arrival. “Is he able to speak?” she whispered. “Or is he quiet because Rosie doesn’t let him get a word in?”
    He frowned. “He isn’t mute, but he rarely says anything. And when he does it’s normally no more than two or three words at a time. At first, I thought he might be simple minded, but he does well at his sums and letters. He and Rosie are inseparable. He shies away from the others. I confess it worries me, but I haven’t a notion as far as what to do about it.”
    “They look nothing alike. Are they brother and sister?”
    “No, but I found him at the same house where I found Elizabeth and Rosie. Whoever had been paying for his upkeep had stopped coming around and the woman was about to turn him over to an orphanage. Assuming he survived the orphanage, I knew he would have likely been sold to a chimney sweep as a climbing boy or sent to the work house. I couldn’t let that happen.”
    She shuddered. “That’s hideous. How could she do that to a child?”
    He paused. “It’s difficult for us to understand the actions of those whose daily existence is little more than a struggle to survive. She hadn’t the money to feed him or clothe him. We’ve led a privileged life, Cecelia. Most do not.”
    It was a sobering thought. But when the sound of the children’s laughter reached them she smiled. “He seems happy enough.”
    “He and Rosie both have a penchant for getting into trouble and why I’ve allowed them to go into the shed unsupervised, I have no idea.” He crossed the threshold and Cecelia heard him swear. “God’s teeth! What do you two think you’re doing? I told you to pick out a ball, not climb onto a rickety old ladder that looks as if it might collapse beneath you.” Cecelia poked her head inside in time to see Rand swing Rosie down from the table and then reach for David.
    “But we wanted to look out the window, Thomas,” Rosie explained.
    “You could have been hurt,” he said shortly. “You try my patience. One more prank and we will head back to the house.”
    Both children did their best to look repentant, but Cecelia could see that neither were particularly concerned by his scolding. She wasn’t certain whether he realized it or not, and decided it might be best if he didn’t.
    “May we play Pall Mall?” Rosie asked referring to the wooden ball and mallet set Rand had purchased for the older children.
    “No. I’m not about to turn the two of you loose with wooden mallets. David, fetch the red ball. You’ll have to be satisfied with that.”
    David fetched the ball and the two little ones darted ahead of Rand and Cecelia. Cecelia watched with interest as they skipped and hopped down the well worn path. Rosie was definitely the leader. David followed behind, jumping over the same clumps of grass, skirting to the side of the same stones, mimicking almost every move she made.
    “Have they ever been separated?” she asked.
    “Do you mean overnight?”
    She thought a moment. “Not necessarily overnight. Do they always have their lessons and playtime together? I don’t know that much about children but Rosie is very dominating and it seems as if he stays in her shadow. I was only halfway joking when I said he couldn’t get a word in with her around.” She sighed. “Though, I could be completely wrong. I’ve only been here one day and shouldn’t make judgment this quickly.”
    “I don’t think you’re wrong.” He paused. “What do you suggest? As I said, he shies away from the others.”
    “Maybe you should spend some time with him without Rosie along.”
    “Should I take him fishing?”
    “No! I’ll take him fishing.”
    He grinned. “That was emphatic. You’re the one who tossed the fishing pole in the water. I’m a much better fisherman than you give me credit for.”
    She stopped suddenly. The trail had opened on to a meadow and the tall grasses were blanketed with a profusion of purple foxglove. “How pretty,” she exclaimed.
    “The first time I saw this property the countryside was in bloom with spring flowers. I don’t know the names of them but the land was covered with red, purple, yellow and white blooms. All I could think was what a perfect place to raise children. I knew this was where they belonged. Where they could have the freedom to run and play and no one could hurt them. Had there not been a house on the property I would have built one.”
    “I think they share your opinion,” Cecelia commented as they watched the two children run through the meadow, shrieking and laughing with pleasure. Rosie’s braids flew behind her as she led David around in circles. The ball proved to be too much of an encumbrance and he finally tossed it aside where it was swallowed up by the grass. “I’m tempted to join them, though I haven’t quite figured out what the game is.”
    Rand casually took her hand. “I believe it’s called run and shriek until the grown-ups make us stop. I used to play it quite a bit myself. So did you. In fact, you excelled at it.”
    The meadow had not been recently scythed and in some places the grasses came past the children’s knees. It wasn’t long before Rosie caught her foot in the grass and spilled headlong into the meadow. It took Rand mere seconds to reach her and pull her to her feet.
    “Are you hurt?” he asked anxiously.
    She held up the skirt of her white smock now stained with grass and purple foxglove. Tears welled up in her eyes. “My frock is dirty,” she sniffled.
    He brushed the grass off her skirt then inspected her knees and hands for signs of scrapes or cuts. “Don’t worry about your frock. As long as you’re not hurt.”
    “My feelings are hurt,” she said indignantly.
    He chuckled. “You’ll get over it.”
    Her lower lip protruded. “Ellie scolds me when I get dirty.”
    He patted her on the head. “I’ll vouch for you midget. You won’t be in trouble. It wasn’t your fault.” He glanced over at David who was standing few feet away. “Why don’t the two of you see if you can find the ball? We’ll play catch.” They needed no further encouragement and ran in the direction of where David had tossed the ball.
    Cecelia came up beside Rand. “She recovered quickly.”
    “She was more concerned about her frock than injured limbs.”
    “You’re quite good with small children.”
    He grinned wryly. “You sound surprised.”
    “I am.” She lifted her skirt a few inches and headed through the grass toward the search party.
    He caught up with her. “Why are you surprised?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. You just never seemed the type. Oh, look. David found the ball.” She waved her hands in the air and called out, “Over here, you two. It’s time to play. Choose a partner. We’ll stand in a square and toss the ball back and forth. Every time you can catch the ball before it hits the ground you and your partner get a point. Once you miss it goes to the other side.”
    “But we’re little,” Rosie protested. “And you’re big. It won’t be fair.”
    Cecelia’s eyes sparkled. “It will if we play boys against girls.”
    “What do think, lad?” Rand asked as came up beside David. “Should we allow them a few points to make the game more even? Everyone knows that girls can’t catch or throw nearly as well as boys can.”
    “It should be the other way around you foolish man,” Cecelia said laughingly. “You will find yourselves soundly trounced before the afternoon is over.”
    “Are you willing to make a wager on that? I seem to recall you lost our last wager.”
    “Parson Finley says wagering’s a sin,” Rosie announced brightly. “Are you a sinner, Thomas?”
    Rand groaned then murmured beneath his breath, “Help me out, Cecelia. How does one answer a question like that? What do I say?”
    She put her hand in front of her mouth, but it did no good. Laughter shook her voice as she whispered in his ear, “I haven’t the faintest idea. But I don’t know that I‘d recommend the truth.”