Cecilia's Claim (10 page)

A very theatrical cough had them move apart.

Chapter Nine

Cecy did her best to ignore the rush of fire that filled her. To
see her men enjoy themselves together earlier had her skin tingling and her
quim tremble. To see them kiss so intimately once more made her wet. A flood of
awareness and hope filled her. She couldn’t fight it any longer, nor did she
wish to. With her mind made up it was like a weight had lifted from her.

I accept it, they are both my
men. What will happen, what I can accept I will have to see all of
it.
Nevertheless my men they are and will be.

Her cough had moved them apart, and she smiled.

"Not fair, my lord, M. le Compte. You think seeing you so
immersed in each other will help me concentrate? Not so. Now please tell me
what is to happen. I am hungry, thirsty and in dire need of the
facilities."

Sweet lord, I have mentioned
something so indelicate to them? But 'tis so, I have need to go.

"The best we can offer is to turn our backs and close our
ears," Caleb said.

Her cheeks burned, and she put her hands to them to cool the skin.

"You must not leave the glade. Well," he temporized.
"No more than behind the bush over there." He pointed to the gorse
bush where he had found his boots.

Cecy daren't speak in case her voice wobbled. She dipped her head,
and glared. Once she was certain they didn't smirk at her predicament she
spoke. "Turn around and put your fingers in your ears. And," she
added, "close your eyes." As soon as she was sure they had done so,
Cecy almost ran across the short grass and behind the bush. It was a relief to
use the facilities, crude as they were. She tidied her clothes and walked to
the stream to wash her hands and face, then cupped her palms to gather some
water to drink. To her amusement, Caleb and Philippe still faced away from her
and both had their fingers in their ears.

"You can turn round now," she said loudly. They both
did. She scowled.

"So you can hear then?"
How embarrassing.

"Cecy, you're but three feet away, and talking loud enough
for them to hear you in the Ferryboat Inn. Until you decided to test our
hearing we were but deaf."

"Hmmph."

Philippe stroked her cheek. “Tis true, love. We keep our word.
Every time."
The inference was there for her to
understand and accept.

"So do
I
.
So
now?"

"We head to the horses," Caleb answered her.
"'Tis a pity you can't ride astride but that can't be helped.
I had hoped to be away before now but no matter we will manage. Follow me and
Philippe will take the rear. If either of us
ask
you
to do anything at all, then do it. It will be for your safety. Keep your voice
low, and if any womanly intuitive sense says something feels wrong, let us
know. A sense of danger is often the best security one can have."

That made sense. How often in her past had she used intuition to
save herself from what could have been social suicide, to an even greater
degree than she had committed?

"I will," she assured them. "I can ride astride if
you wish, you know, even though my skirts will ride indelicately high. I enjoy
riding like that, although I confess I usually wear a pair of pantaloons
Randall acquired for me. Do you have none
spare
?"

"Sadly not here," Caleb answered her, and touched her
arm in a gesture of protective comfort. "Anyway let's go. It will be late
enough before we reach the moor and I'd prefer the day to have some light left.
If the gentlemen are out and about it is a certainty we'd better not be. I'll
lead, and Philippe will bring up the rear. If I stop Cecy, crouch down and stay
still and silent."

Cecy wasn't sure she needed to hear the answer, but had to ask.
"What about Randall? And he will now be worrying about me, to say nothing
of the Battings." To her shame she'd forgotten about the housekeeper and
her husband, who would notice her absence much earlier than Randall would.

"Randall is busy, and will be told you are safe. The Battings
have a missive from you saying you've met friends and are staying with them for
a while."

"I didn't write any such letter." Cecy was bewildered.

"No, I did, I pen a fair ladies' script." Philippe said.
"As well as adopting a delicate falsetto when
necessary."
His voice changed on the last few words to a high
lilting trill.

Cecy snorted with laughter. "You sound like any one of my
friends."

That is the intention. It has saved me from discovery many a time.
So be assured we have, I think, covered all eventualities."

"I hope so. I do worry, especially if my presence is a danger
to Randall. I do wonder at Perry's determination to send me with him."

Caleb gave her a brief hug. "You have two protectors, love,
and we're here to make sure that nothing untoward happens. Just do as we
say."

She rolled her eyes.
"As ever."

Caleb gave her hand a squeeze and walked toward an almost
unnoticeable break in the trees. Cecy followed him, thankful she had put on
sturdy shoes that morning.

Is it only this morning since
I left the house? It seems like eons ago. So much has happened.
Cecy's mind
buzzed with thoughts of her day so far.

Caleb brushed the fronds of some ferns to one side and plunged
into the undergrowth.

Cecy followed and found herself in a cool, dark world of green.
Very little light filtered through the trees, even though the leaves had begun
to fall. In a few weeks, she realized, as autumn moved into winter there would
be very little cover. Only the fact that the season had been mild in this part
of the country gave them the protection they needed.

It was pleasant in the wood. The leaves and earth underfoot
muffled their footsteps, and to Cecy it looked as if they were underwater. The
foliage moved slightly in the breeze, and created a swaying kaleidoscope of
colors.

They walked on in silence. The stillness of the air, and the soft
birdsong was as reassuring as the presence of her protectors. Without any
warning, the raucous call of a crow overhead made her jump. Caleb stopped
and she bumped into him. Philippe, she realized, had halted instantly. They
both looked alert, in the same manner as one of her
brother
Nash's hounds when it scented a fox.

Cecy looked upward and sniffed; there was something different in
the air. It overpowered the gentle fragrance of the bushes and leaves.

Pomade?
No but I recognize that scent.
Try as she might Cecy
couldn't place just where she knew it from. Philippe had her arm in a warning
gesture, and she nodded in recognition of his caution.

For several minutes no one moved. Cecy scare dared move her head,
in case she drew attention to herself. It was lucky her pelisse was a mossy
green; it melded nicely into the undergrowth.

"Gone, whoever it was." Caleb began to walk forward.
They were at the edge of the wood and Cecy saw a barn perhaps two hundred yards
in front of them.

"Wait
here,
if I'm not back within
five minutes, you know what to do."
 
Caleb addressed Philippe before he walked openly toward the building
ahead.

"Just stay still, love. This land is known to belong to
Caleb. His presence will be unremarked on. Mine perhaps, yours not
so."
 
Philippe sat down in the long
grass under the trees, and patted the ground next to him. "Sit
love,
and we'll wait. All will be well." He plucked a
blade of grass, rolled it between his lips and ran one hand up under her skirt
and up her calf. If she hadn't known Philippe so well, Cecy wouldn't have
recognized how alert he was. To all intents and purpose he looked like any
gentleman whiling away the hours with a personable accommodating lady. She
slapped his hand away; it was not the time to play.

A shrill whistle, not unlike the noise of a shrike, split the air.

"One moment, come here now." She was pulled to her knees
and rolled under him before she had time to utter a word.

"Turn onto your stomach and hide your face in your hands.
Hurry."
His harsh tone startled her into instance
obeyance. As she cushioned her face between her arms, her shawl fell over most
of her face. Cecy risked a brief peek between her arm and the edge of the
shawl. His shadow fell over her face, and she felt him shift his body to lie
close to her. His hand stroked her nape and his breath stirred her hair.

"Ah me lover, just a lil bit noe ah
? "

The voice was so unlike his normal cultured tone, Cecy bit her lip
to stop herself sniggering. He bit her earlobe none too gently and she jumped.

"Play along." His voice was a whisper.

She gave a giggle. "Ohh now
surr, that
be a bit fast like…" Cecy prided herself that she had a good ear for
dialect. The past few weeks she had heard enough village accents to be
confident her words would sound reasonably local. The swat he gave to her
backside was neither gentle nor necessary.
Nor was the
warning pinch.

"
You wanting
to watch sir? Cause
it'll be costin' yer."

"Whippersnapper."
Even through the shawl Cecy
heard the cock of a gun. "I should fill you both with
shot,
that
might make you less likely to rut on my land."

His land?
She braced herself for the shot. If it was anything like being
peppered when Nash, her younger brother, had inadvertently caught her with the
shot from his air gun, then she wasn't going to be able to sit down for a week
for all the wrong reasons.

"Pah."

The other voice had a slight accent and was neither local nor
unpolished. Cecy racked her brains. From where did she recognize it or one
similar?

For several minutes there was silence. Cecy felt sick, and
swallowed rapidly. The fact she couldn't see or hear anything played games with
her mind and she felt the horrible crawl of fear advance through her, setting
her nerves on edge.

Please let it be over soon,
please god don't let me be sick, please let us be safe. Please god…

She started to shake. Cecy didn't register Philippe's voice until
he pinched her ear.

"Cecy he's gone. We're safe. Caleb is on his way back. You're
safe."

"What?"

Chapter Ten

Philippe held Cecy close to him, and stroked her hair. His cock
had shriveled as if it was midwinter on the moor, and tentacles of fear had
crept insidiously up his spine as the stranger had appeared over close by. He
castigated himself. There was no way on god's earth he should have missed the
man's approach. If it hadn't been for Caleb's whistle he'd have been caught
with his metaphorical breeches down. One sweet memory of the woman in his arms
and his common sense had deserted him. He stopped his introspection as he felt
Cecy move.

"Safe love, look, here
comes
Caleb.
He'll tell us what to do."

God help me, I hope he does.

Stones and loose earth rolled down the tiny slope behind them as
Caleb jumped the slight incline and landed next to them. He dropped a pile of
somewhat tattered clothes onto the ground.

"Bastard.
On my land and carrying a
gun.
Did you get a good look at him?" Caleb dusted his hands down
his breeches. "I was too far away to see his face." He looked down at
Philippe and raised an eyebrow as he saw Cecy cuddled in.

Philippe shook his head, and gently moved Cecy to sit next to him.
She whimpered and he held her tight once more.

"Shh, love, Caleb's back. Sit between us whilst he tells me
what he's found out." Her nod was infinitesimal. Caleb hunkered down and
stroked her hair. "Cecy hold up, you've been so brave. It won't be too
long now until we're well away from here."

"It was the smell." Cecy blinked rapidly. Her color
gradually returned.
"The scent of the man who was here.
I know it. Well not exactly
know
it,
but it was familiar. If only I could remember who I associate it with. It
worried me that I know." She looked from Philippe to Caleb and back and
squeezed his hand. He kissed her cheek.

"Don't think about it now, love. It'll come when you least
expect it." Philippe said.
 
"Now what Caleb?"

"We're going to turn Cecy into a boy. I found these in the
barn. I'd forgotten they were there."

She sat up so fast Philippe wondered if she was about to thump
Caleb or flounce off in a huff. He should have remembered she was made of
sterner stuff.