Dangerous Magic by Rickloff Alix

Author:Rickloff, Alix [Rickloff, Alix]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2011-10-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Cecily sat on a stool drawn up to the scrubbed kitchen worktable. With the room lit only by the damped fire in the stove and the thin light of her candle, the darkness pressed upon her from all sides. This never bothered her. She liked the dark, and Bodliam’s kitchen was always a warm welcoming place, full of the wonderful scents of baking breads and roasting meats, sugary confections and boiling soups. Shadows never changed that.

Attired in a cozy dressing gown and her hair in a night plait over her shoulder, she finally felt able to take a deep breath and relax. She loved the excitement and the thrill of the crowds in Carrisbridge, but when the gaiety was over it was nice to curl up and savor, like candy, each moment of the night. This had been especially true since Gerald had arrived at the Hilliers’.

In front of her sat an opened jar of preserves and a plate of bread, perfect bedtime fare for reminiscing over every soulful look, every clasp of his hand, every lyrical compliment he offered.

But each time she set her mind to memories of Gerald, it persisted on returning to her discovery of Rafe and Lady Woodville, his jacket askew across his shoulders, her breasts nearly spilling from her bodice. Neither one seemed disturbed or dismayed by their untimely interruption, though Rafe shot Cecily a stony, sullen glare hard to interpret. It might have been anger at being caught in the arms of another woman or worry at Cecily’s obvious attempt to tryst with Gerald. She couldn’t tell, though she’d watched him even after he gracefully retreated with Lady Woodville back into the main assembly room. While Cecily observed, barely noticing Gerald’s abandonment of her, Rafe and Lady Woodville parted ways, she to a laughing group of neighbors and he to the dark quiet of the terrace.

Cecily fiddled with the jam knife as she pondered the events of this evening. Should she tell Miss Killigrew what she’d stumbled upon? That might mean revealing her own errant behavior, and heaven only knew what would happen if sneaking away to a secluded room with a gentleman ever got back to Mama. It would make bread and water look like a holiday. But she couldn’t just ignore it and say nothing. That wouldn’t be sporting at all. Miss Killigrew had treated Cecily kindly and had even begun teaching her some words in Cornish. She couldn’t return her friendship by keeping such a horrid secret.

Perhaps she might simply warn Gwenyth. Let her know what sort of woman Anabel Woodville really was. Cecily didn’t think much passed Gwenyth’s sharp, penetrating eyes. She would understand if Cecily dropped a few hints, perhaps some stories Gerald had imparted to her of Anabel’s past outrageous behavior.

Making up her mind to do this the first thing in the morning, she sighed and buried the knife hilt-deep into the preserves, her conscience clear, her stomach grumbling.

“Still up, moppet?”

Cecily whirled around, the knife held out like a sticky, purple weapon as Derek stepped from the shadows, a lit cheroot between his fingers.

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