“Ah,” Stephen said. “Very effective.” His hand found hers, and he turned it over on his leg thoughtfully. “So, all we have to do is… ahem, both of us, sleep together, that is, in your bed, and await Flavion’s entrance?” While talking, he’d begun drawing soft little lines from the ends of her fingers to her palm with his thumb. Her hands were tiny compared to his… and white… and soft.
“The more incriminating the circumstances, the better,” She said. “You will do it?”
Stephen lifted her hand and pressed his palm against hers. Again, he was affected by how fragile and small she seemed.
Up until recently Flavion’s life had been charmed. Even though he’d lived the life of a selfish aristocrat, his cousin had managed to be cherished and beloved by those around him. He’d never been forced to deal with the consequences of his callous actions. And now the wife he’d scorned was determined to make him pay for the wrong he’d done her. God knew Flavion deserved it.
And perhaps…
Perhaps, by helping Lady Kensington, Stephen could put some of his own anger to rest.
And then he stared boldly into her eyes. “What time shall I come to you?”
He was goingto do it. He was going to help her.
She’d barely had any time to know him, and yet suddenly her life didn’t seem so recklessly out of control. What was it about him? Stephen Nottingham could not be any more different from Flavion. Perhaps that was his attraction.
Cecily returned to her room feeling a mixture of elation and sheer terror. Would it work? Of course, Flavion would come to her room. He’d not missed a night since their wedding. It was a shame he was not as dependable where other areas of their marriage were concerned.
Except… perhaps it was not.
Uncertain as to what Stephen would consider necessary in order for the encounter to be incriminating, Cecily chose one of her newer nightgowns and then requested that her maid draw a bath.
Her preparations were ironically reminiscent of her wedding night.
Only then, she had been full of hope. She had been excited to give herself to the man she had vowed to love, honor and obey till death do they part. Tonight, she prepared herself for an ending.
A very foolish, very naïve part of her wondered what her life would be like if she had shared a wedding night with Stephen Nottingham rather than Flavion.
Mr. Nottingham, Stephen, possessed all of the qualities she’d assumed Flavion had possessed when she’d accepted his proposal.
Or she presumed Stephen did, anyhow. How could she know when she barely knew him? How could she ever trust her emotions again?
And yet she felt shedidknow him. The part of her heart that had been frozen since Flavion’s betrayal seemed to have slightly thawed since she’d met his cousin.
When her bath was prepared, she requested champagne be chilled and brought up to her room.
It was important the servants were as aware of thisaffairas Flavion would be. For servants were the backbone oftonnishgossip. They would tell their counterparts in other aristocratic houses, who would then tell their mistress or master and so on and so forth. And it was vital to her plan that thetonknew. If thetonwere not privy, then Flavion’s pride would not be tested. Everybody who was anybody in London would need to know of Cecily’s infidelity in order for Flavion to consider divorcing her.
That was the terrifying part.
Having Flavion think her an adulteress was one thing, but spreading such information to all of society was another thing altogether. Good Lord, what would her father say?
Cecily shivered and slid down farther into her bath. The water was hot — almost too hot. Would her father be angry with her or proud? He’d always told her to go after the things that she wanted. He’d told her not to be any man’s pawn. Well, she was taking action tonight. Even submersed in the hot bath, she shivered again. By the time her maid washed and rinsed her hair, Cecily was shivering uncontrollably.
Sally, the lady’s maid she’d acquired upon marrying Flavion was quite concerned that her mistress was taking a chill. “Come out of there, my lady, and sit by the fire.”
Once Cecily had done so, the maid went to work drying and braiding her hair into one long single rope. The shivering hadn’t stopped, but it was less violent.
Pulling the counterpane down, Sally urged Cecily to climb into bed.
Cecily merely shook her head and poured herself a glass of champagne. “I’m fine, Sally. Please, don’t worry about me.” And then she gave the maid as normal of a smile as she could. It wouldn’t do for the servants to think she was taking a chill when she wanted them to believe she was taking a lover.
Shaking her head disapprovingly, the maid gathered together the wet towels and linens and followed the footmen as they moved the tub out of her room. When the door finally closed behind them, Cecily let out a sigh of relief.
And then began shivering again.
Stephen had severaltasks he wanted to take care of before he would be ready to retire for the evening. He did not wish to consider the ramifications of the promise he’d made to Cecily.
