Cupid Calling
THE BACHELOR AND THE BLUESTOCKING
Chapter One
“Cecelia Louise Clemmons, what have you done to Mrs. Parmont?”
Oh-uh. Cecelia recognized her guardian’s exasperated tone. That he had shouted her entire name reminded her of the way her mother had scolded her as a child . . . back when her mother had been alive. Although her guardian, Devin Nash, known to all high society as Lord Beauchamp, resembled a mother about as much as a grouchy lion might remind a chick of its mother hen.
The steady tread on the stairs rising ominously toward her made Cecelia scramble out of her stained smock. She capped the glue and ink pots with shaking fingers, grabbed the book resting on the side table, and unbolted the door. She didn’t open it any wider than she needed to slip between it and the jam quickly, and ever so gently she pulled the door shut.
Flipping open her book, she moved to the top of the stairs just as Lord Beauchamp’s golden head rose into view. Life just wasn’t fair, she thought with a forlorn familiarity. Her guardian had a beautiful thatch of wavy golden hair, sky blue eyes and not an unmanly bone in his Greek statue body. To make it worse he had a smile that sent jolts of electricity zinging through the air.
As if to prove it he stopped, leaned against the rail, shook his head, and smiled at her. Cecelia did her best to note the effect and store it in her head. The fluttering in her stomach, the rat-a-tat beat of her heart, the urge to smile back. Instead she dipped her eyes to her book and tried to make sense of the squiggles and lines that normally formed letters.
These bodily sensations could be due to the fear of getting caught, she reassured herself.
When she thought she could speak without sounding breathless, she said, “What ever is wrong with Mrs. Parmont?”
“She’s leaving.”
“Oh.” Another chaperon bites the dust. Cecelia suppressed the giggle that rose in her throat. “Why?”
“Why indeed? I presume you could tell me.”
No longer trusting her voice at all, Cecelia shook her head.
He stared at her, his head cocked to the side, waiting her out.
Cecelia dipped her head to her book, determined to string at least two words of print together. Reading had a way of making her feel in control.
“Cecelia?” he prompted impatiently. He rose another narrow step.
She bit back the urge to fling her arms in front of the attic door and bar all entrance. Instead she stepped down as if she intended to descend to the third floor. She’d have to scurry back up and lock the door. Not that Devin would exert himself enough to explore her private sanctuary, but he might send one of his servants to do it for him if he grew curious enough.
“Did you ask her why she’s leaving?” Cecelia asked.
“She’s bored. You’re never around for her to talk to. And if you are with her, you have your nose stuck in a book. You never want to go out. She feels useless and unnecessary.”
“Well, if you know why she’s leaving, why are you asking me?”
“Cecelia,” he drew out her name, enunciating each syllable. “You know we both can’t live here without a chaperon. You can’t attend functions without a chaperon. We won’t ever find you a husband if you don’t attend at least an occasional at home or soirée.”
She drew to a halt on the riser above him. She was rather pleased at being on eye level with him. “Well I don’t want a husband, and I told Mrs. Parmont that she should have friends call on her here, or she could attend any amusement she wished. I didn’t mind. I knew you wouldn’t mind. I didn’t know she was so distressed.”
“How could you? Have you spent above fifteen minutes in her company in the last month?”
Cecelia knew that she hadn’t done much to make Mrs. Parmont feel welcome, but the woman was always harping on her. Sit up straight, Miss Clemmons. You shouldn't wear that, Miss Clemmons. Your fashion sense is deplorable, Miss Clemmons. Your hair is a mess, Miss Clemmons. You'll ruin your eyes with all that reading, Miss Clemmons. How will you ever attract a husband if you wear spectacles, Miss Clemmons? Frankly, Cecelia didn’t need any help to feel inadequate in the husband attracting department.
“Well, heavens, if you would have told me it was my job to entertain my hired companion, I’m sure I would have exerted more effort in that direction. Although, I’m not quite sure that we should have arrived at an equitable level of compensation for the duties.”
“Perhaps the amount it costs me to move to a hotel or rent quarters every time a chaperon leaves would be enough,” he shot back.
Maybe being on eye-level with Devin was not such a good idea. She felt suitably guilty, although she didn’t feel he needed to know. Too late she remembered he’d quite recently given her a generous allowance. She had just been too busy to notice Mrs. Parmont’s distress. Or to realize that it was more than her usual griping. “I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t realize she was about to leave. You know, you could just send me to live on your estate, and forget this whole chaperon business.”
He pushed away from the wall. “Do you want to live in the country?”
Living buried in the country would definitely make it more difficult to pursue her goals. “No.”
He leaned his palm against the opposite wall. “Good, then, because as your guardian, I should think it would be difficult to watch over you there or help you get settled.”
Settled. The word made her want to scream. Why must she marry? What man would want her? And what man would she ever want after a year of living with Devin? “Oh bother, you weren’t supposed to be my guardian, anyway.”
“Yes, I’m sure your father meant for my father to be your guardian, but as they have both entered those pearly gates in the sky, and your father named me by title in his will, the responsibility for you and your future has fallen into my lap.”
Cecelia wished she dared dart around him on the narrow staircase. She looked to see if she could duck under his arm. “Your responsibility ends when I reach age twenty-five, and I assure you I do not expect your hospitality to continue forever.”
He rolled his eyes. “Cecelia, love, that was if your father had left you a farthing to fly with. But everything is gone. He had debts on his debts. I had to sell his estate, you have nothing to live on, let alone a place to live.”
“Yes, I am quite aware of my situation.” Which was terribly dependent on Devin at the moment, but she was changing that.
“Well, I have thought on it, and I only see one solution.”
Cecelia didn’t like the idea of Devin thinking on anything. She went on much more comfortably when he wasn’t paying her any mind. She liked even less that the corners of his eyes had just the slightest crinkle around them. “What?”
“Since you have refused to look about for a husband and you really have no other option but to marry.” He studied his nails for a moment, wiped them against his jacket, and studied them again.
Cecelia was ready to burst. Yes, he had quite lovely hands with long tapered fingers and neatly trimmed nails. She supposed Devin could look upon them with as much appreciation as the next person, but did he need to do it now? “What?”
He looked up as if reminded she was there. “You’ll have to marry me.”