Page 28 of Papa's Desires
“Papa wants you to come with your bottom hole filled up. Do you think you can do that, littlegirl?”
“Oh, Papa, I…” Her voice trailed off. She shut her eyes as a look of intense concentration came over her. She gyrated her center against his hand and cried out as she quickly reached the apex of herdesire.
“Good girl, Cynny. Very goodgirl.”
* * *
Cynny stared into her closet,stunned at all the new dresses that hung on racks. She glanced over her shoulder atPapa.
“Where did all these comefrom?”
He smiled. “I sent word to Debenham’s, as well as a few other shops, asking them to deliver as many readymade gowns as they could manage, along with shoes, several hats, nightdresses, undergarments, and stockings. However, some of this might not fit you precisely, and we have an appointment at Debenham’s on Friday for you to be measured. You will have a custom wardrobe fit for a lady. I intend to take you to balls and show you off in society soon. Word of our marriage has gotten out and we’ve received several invitations to socialoccasions.”
“But Papa, what will you tell people about me? I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to tell your peers that I came from Talcott House. What if they ask more questions?” Panic raced through her. Though she’d been educated as a lady during her four years at Talcott House—she could read, write, sing, play the piano, engage in lively but refined conversation, and even recite poetry, in addition to the finer details of managing a household, but she hadn’t quite considered how she might present herself while out in society. Worry curled in the pit of her stomach. What if Papa’s friends didn’t like her or thought her lesser for not being born with atitle?
“I will not mention Talcott House, darling. I agree that might raise questions neither of us are prepared to answer. In addition, I don’t believe Miss Wickersham would appreciate the extra attention that might come from speaking openly about her uniqueestablishment.”
Cynny giggled. “You don’t want to get on Miss Wickersham’s bad side, Papa. She might actually swat you with her ruler thistime!”
He chuckled, recalling the time in the headmistress of Talcott House’s study when the bold woman had taken the pistol from Lord Caldwell and then held tight to the ruler as she set about maintaining control of the situation between Lord Kensington and Grayson and their mutual interest inHyacinth.
“If anyone asks how we met, Cynny, we will only tell a partial truth. Now, as you well know, I abhor lies and keeping secrets, but in this case, I feel it necessary for yourprotection.”
“What partial truth will we tell,Papa?”
“You are the orphaned daughter of an associate of mine. I stopped by your new guardian’s home in the country on my way to London, and your charm and beauty enraptured me. I think it wise to present ourselves as a love match, despite some in the ton considering it unfashionable, as it will seem more believable and also explain some of my recent rather odd behavior inLondon.”
She laughed again as she started to feel at ease over the prospect of venturing out in society. “That all sounds fine, Papa. But…what odd behavior are you referring to? What did you do, dare Iask?”
He ran a hand through his hair, as if the memory of his actions discomforted him. “I may have asked a lady I was paired with on the ballroom floor if she’d ever heard of a gang of thieves called TheWeasels.”
Cynny’s stomach dropped to the floor, but she tried to maintain her cheerful disposition, lest she give him any reason to believe her mention of The Weasels had been anything other than a fanciful tale. “Oh dear, Papa. You said that to alady?”
“I’m afraid so. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, or the amusing story you’d toldme.”
“Well, I hope you didn’t tell anyone that I was a member of such a gang,” she said matter-of-factly, “because I would hate to disappoint them. I am nothing but a boring orphan from a boring, poor family in the country. This is my first time in London, youknow.”
Lies. More lies. When would she be able tostop?
Her stomach dropped to the floor all over again. The golden pocket watch! She still had to hide the bloody watch somewhere in his house where it could be innocentlydiscovered.
He stepped forward and drew her into his arms, kissing her forehead. She inhaled his masculine scent, trying to derive comfort from his closeness even though she worried their happiness might soon come crashing to an end. He didn’t approve of lies or secrets, but she couldn’t seem to abide by this particular rule of his. Oh, how disappointed Papa would be if he ever found out the truth abouther.
“There is nothing boring about you at all, little girl. Now, let’s find a pretty morning gown for you to wear. Then we will enjoy a delicious breakfast together and go about our day. I would like to know more about your past, and I suppose you might like to learn more about mine. A long walk in the gardens on this beautiful day will be the perfect setting for us to become betteracquainted.”
Oh dear. Would she have to tell more lies today? She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly burning and her eyes watering. Luckily, she had her face hidden in Papa’s chest, and he couldn’t glimpse the tears threatening to roll down her cheeks. She blinked hard several times, and by the time he grasped her hand and led her further into the closet, she had made her expression cheerfulagain.
Please God, she prayed.Please don’t let him findout.
He dressed her in a beautiful blue gown with matching slippers, and he drew her hair back into a ribbon. He was so attentive and gentle as he dressed her, that she thought her heart might burst with happiness. Once they finally reached the gardens, she was delighted when he started telling her about his childhood, rather than ask about hers first, which gave her some time to decide just how much of the truth to tell him—as well as which parts to lieabout.
He spoke of his childhood in the English countryside, his tedious years in school, and ended by speaking of his parents with obvious adoration. She was saddened to hear they had passed not too long ago. His mother of an illness two years ago, and his father less than a year ago from a wound he suffered while out on a hunt. She squeezed his hand as he spoke of hisloss.
“I’m so sorry, Papa. My parents passed away when I was only five. Both of them had a fever. I thought they might be getting better, but one morning Mama didn’t wake up. My father passed away a few hours later, though I think he might have lived if Mama had. I remember them loving each other verymuch.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her. “Oh, Cynny, I am sorry too. Is that when you came to live at TalcottHouse?”
She bit her lip, considering. What if Papa had reason to speak with Miss Wickersham or someone else from Talcott House again and they happened to mention that Cynny hadn’t arrived there until the age of eighteen? She decided on her lies very carefully, trying to ignore the guilt surging through her. Vagueness. Perhaps she should just be vague. “I spent some time with my uncle,” she said, “but he wasn’t a nice man and he drank his weight in whiskey almost every day. Then I lived on the streets for a while, and that is where Miss Wickersham found me. Once she realized I was homeless, she brought me to Talcott House.” There, that was acceptable. Her heart pounded. At least she hoped. She hadn’t mentioned an exact timeline or how old she’d been when she went to live at TalcottHouse.
“I am glad Miss Wickersham found you, Cynny.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “The very thought of you alone on the streets disturbs me more than you couldknow.”
She gave him a sad smile in acknowledgement, but didn’t correct his statement—that she hadn't been alone. She would never speak of The Weasels again. She would tuck that part of her life away, in a secret compartment in her heart, never to be openedagain.
“Come,” he said, offering her a warm smile. “Let us finish our stroll through the gardens. There is a beautiful patch of hyacinth growing behind those bushes over there that I would like to show you. Of course, the beauty of your namesake flower pales in comparison to you, mydear.”
She flushed as Papa led her through the gardens. “Papa, I think you should take up writing poetry. You say the most...romantic things sometimes.” She cleared her throat. “Have you heard the lilt of her laugh or gazed into her eyes, which are the shade of a morning sky in spring?” she said, reciting his words spoken not so longago.
He led her around the bushes to the patch of hyacinth, and the fragrant scent of the flowers filled her senses. He grabbed her, bringing her flush against his body. “I was never a poet until I met you, my sweet Cynny. Nor was I such a beast.” Then he pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her soundly, until she was panting and breathless with desire as the sunlight streamed down upon them while they stood in the gardens of their own littleworld.
