Page 16 of A Wild English Rose
He shook his head. “I have no intention of doing anything that is not without your considered consent.”
“Really? So, you just thought that you would ply me with enough alcohol that I would go willingly into your arms. And that of course, is so much more gentleman-like than simply forcing a woman into doing your bidding,” she replied.
“Cecily, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he pleaded.
She closed her eyes and fought to regain her composure. How many more times would she let herself be lured into situations with men who only wanted one thing from her? Her good sense was always the last thing to kick in and save her. “I am not a whore. I had a brief love affair with a lord’s son in Ireland when I was eighteen. I let myself be with him because I fully expected him to make me an offer of marriage. Neither of us knew that his parents had already agreed to a betrothal on his behalf,” she said.
Thomas raked his fingers through his hair. Cecily took an ounce of comfort in watching him struggle with the repercussions of his behavior.
Good. Feel some shame, Thomas. Lord knows I have had to bear my share of it.
“I am sorry. What else can I do?” he said.
She strode over to where her glass of wine sat on the floor and picked it up. He flinched as she lifted it.
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t be so crass as to throw wine in your face. What I would like you to do is to take the horses back home with you and leave me here. I will return to the abbey later before packing my bag. In the meantime, could you please ask your stable master to prepare a carriage that can take me to the main coaching inn at Peterborough. I shall find my own way on from there,” she replied.
“Please.”
“No. I think it best that I leave.”
She followed him to the door of the temple, and as Thomas walked toward the horses, Cecily emptied the remains of the glass of wine over the side of the steps. When she was done, she turned and went back inside.
Chapter Fourteen
Thomas mounted his own horse and, taking the reins of Cecily’s mount, rode away from the temple. He chanced a glance back over his shoulder as he turned into the lane, but Cecily was nowhere to be seen.
“You are a first-class fool. I don’t know any man who could have made a bigger mess of things than you just did,” he muttered.
Cecily was right to be angry with him. His clumsy attempt at seduction had blown up in his face. He had not thought her an easy target, nor had he known that she was no longer an innocent. He had simply wanted to hold her.
Kissing her and taking her in his arms had felt so right, a natural progression from the connection they had established over the previous days. A connection he now understood he had seriously overestimated.
Hours from now, Cecily would be gone from Rosemount Abbey, and with her departure would also go the chance of securing her heart.
“Is it any wonder you are not married? If that is the way you go about trying to woo a woman? Thomas Rosemount, you will die a lonely old bachelor.”
At the stables, he handed over the reins of the horses, not bothering to explain why Lady Cecily was not with him. Only hours before, he had left the abbey with high hopes for a pleasant day with her and the wish of a kiss to seal their budding romance. But now his plans lay in tatters. And it was all his own fault.
Inside the house, he went upstairs to his bedroom. He threw himself down on the bed and rolled over onto his back. He swore so loudly at the ceiling that he would not have been surprised to see the paint peel.
With one last curse, he sat up. He had forgotten to ask the stable master to prepare a carriage for Cecily’s departure. Halfway to the door he stopped. If there was no carriage to take her to Peterborough, she could not leave Rosemount Abbey. It was miles to walk.
It was a risk, a dangerous one if she wanted to make a fuss about being held at the abbey against her will. He knew enough about her to know that Cecily would never be one to go quietly if she had set her mind against something.
He rubbed his hand over the dark stubble on his chin and pondered the situation. Wooing and seduction were not going to get him anywhere; he had made an unholy mess of that already.
Letting her go was also not an option. She was exactly the woman he needed in his life. She would make the perfect future viscountess. And the perfect wife.
He had to find something to offer her that was better than the uncertain future which lay ahead of her if he let her leave.
What was it that Cecily yearned for? What would make her want to stay?
Chapter Fifteen
Cecily put the cork back into the wine bottle and set it aside before curling up on the sofa and drifting off to sleep. When she woke, she walked to the front door of the temple and stood at the top of the steps. From the position of the sun, it was sometime late in the afternoon, possibly early evening.
Thomas had not returned.
