Page 21 of The Earl's Scarred Bride

"Ended up hanging by his coat from the drainage pipe," Emily finished with a laugh. "Father was absolutely furious, but Mother couldn't stop laughing long enough to scold him properly."

Elizabeth found herself smiling despite her initial nervousness about meeting Cecil's family. The image of a young, impetuous Cecil dangling from the rooftop was impossible to resist. "Did you at least save the cat?"

"The wretched beast made its own way down while I was hanging there," Cecil admitted, though Elizabeth noticed his lips twitching. "Had the audacity to look quite pleased with itself as it sauntered past the gathering crowd."

"That wasn't even his most outrageous escapade," Madeleine added, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Wait until you hear about the time he decided to teach himself to fence using Mother's best parasols..."

"Absolutely not," Cecil interrupted, moving to sit beside Elizabeth on the settee. "I believe we've had quite enough stories about my misspent youth."

"Spoilsport," Emily declared, but her attention shifted to Elizabeth with keen interest. "Tell me, sister, has he shown you the library yet? Cecil used to spend hours in there as a boy, reading the most scandalous Gothic novels he could find."

"The library?" Elizabeth's brow furrowed. She'd explored most of the house by now, but she hadn't come across a proper library.

"It's being renovated," Cecil said smoothly, though his hand came to rest possessively on the small of Elizabeth's back. "Perhaps we should find some other entertainment for the afternoon. A game, perhaps?"

Percival, who had been quietly observing the exchange with obvious amusement, brightened at the suggestion. "An excellent idea. Your wife hasn't yet experienced your legendary competitive streak, has she?"

"Oh yes," Madeleine clapped her hands together. "Let's play cards. Vingt-et-un, perhaps? Elizabeth, you must join us. Cecil is absolutely terrible at hiding his tells."

"I most certainly am not," Cecil protested, but Elizabeth could feel the tension in his body where it pressed against hers.

"I'd be delighted to play," Elizabeth said, surprising herself with her eagerness. There was something wonderfully normal about sitting around a card table with family, even if that family wasn't her own. "Though I should warn you, I've spent countless hours playing cards with the ton's most formidable dowagers."

Charles, who had been quiet until now, laughed. "I believe that's a challenge, Stonefield. Your new countess seems to have some spirit."

"More than you know," Cecil murmured, his breath warm against Elizabeth's ear as he helped her rise. The intimate gesture sent a shiver down her spine, and from the slight curve of his lips, she knew he'd noticed.

As the servants brought the card table and Charles began to deal, Elizabeth found herself caught up in the easy banter between siblings. No one stared at her scar or whispered behind their fans. Even when she laughed—a real, unrestrained laugh at one of Percival's dry observations—no one seemed scandalized by her lack of proper restraint.

The first few hands passed quickly, with fortunes rising and falling around the table. Elizabeth discovered that Madeleinehad a habit of humming when she held good cards, while Emily's left eyebrow would twitch ever so slightly when she bluffed. And Cecil...

"You're staring, wife," he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

"Merely studying your tells, husband," she replied primly, though her pulse quickened at his proximity.

His hand found her knee under the table, hidden from his family's view by the tablecloth. "And what have you discovered?"

The warmth of his palm through her skirts made it difficult to concentrate on her cards. "That you're trying to distract me because I'm winning."

"Your new sister is quite formidable at cards," Charles observed as Elizabeth won another hand. "Where did you learn to play so well?"

Elizabeth gathered her winnings, keenly aware of Cecil's hand still resting on her knee. "One learns many things while chaperoning a debutante through multiple seasons. The dowagers are particularly fond of teaching useful skills."

"Useful skills indeed," Cecil's thumb traced small circles against her skin through the fabric. "Though I wonder what else those dowagers taught you."

Elizabeth's cards trembled slightly in her hands. "Only the most proper accomplishments, I assure you."

"Is that so?" His fingers skimmed higher, just above her knee. "And here I thought they might have shared some...interesting gossip about married life."

"Cecil," she hissed under her breath, though she didn't dare move away for fear of drawing attention to his wandering hand.

"Your bet, Elizabeth," Madeleine called out cheerfully, oblivious to her brother's mischief.

Elizabeth placed her wager, trying to focus on her cards rather than the heat of Cecil's touch. She had an excellent hand—one that would likely win her the game. But as she prepared to reveal her cards, Cecil's lips brushed against her ear.

"Have you been practicing what I suggested, wife?" His whispered words made her shiver. "Late at night, when you're alone in your bed, do you think of me?"

Her cards scattered across the table as her hands jerked in surprise. "I...I apologize," she stammered, gathering them quickly. "They slipped."

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