The music stopped playing, and the dancers moved away from the dance floor to make room for new couples, and she saw Devlin catch her father with a question in his golden eyes, and George nodded.
Without a word, Devlin held out his hand to her with a secretive wink, and blushingly she gave him hers. He led her out onto the dance floor, joining the other dancers in the beautiful country dance.
Fanny usually loved to dance, despite the need to concentrate on the steps, but dancing with Devlin was pure heaven. Every time their hands met, electricity flowed through her body, and she tingled all over.
Devlin obviously felt the same, because he couldn’t take his eyes off her, instead drenching her in their honey-colored heat. He brushed his arm against her chest as he passed her in the dance movement, and she couldn’t stop shivering with delight. Her whole body yearned for his hands and that wonderful sensation they had given her earlier, in the meeting room.
When the dance ended, he had to give her up to the beau who had written his name on her dance card earlier, but as soon as the card had an empty spot he danced with her again.
Everyone in the ballroom noticed what was taking place. The handsome and powerful Duke of Hereford was courting the rich and well-connected heiress Lady Francesca Darling, apparently with her parents’ approval.
“I guess I’ll be having a visitor soon.” George whispered to Caroline, who looked as dazed as her daughter did as she watched the couple twirl by.
“Do tell me, brother dear, what will your answer to the man be?” Rake asked, having overheard George’s comment.
“When it comes to Fanny, I’ll guess she will shoot me in the foot if I say anything other than yes. She is spellbound by him. I mean, look at her—she is so happy, one would think she will never be able to stop smiling again. I will of course ask her of her opinion before I give him any answer, but I think we all know what the answer will be.”
Rake nodded slowly.
“But what do
you
think of Devlin?”
George frowned.
“It’s complicated. He is her perfect social match, as she is the granddaughter of a duke and daughter of a marquess. Honestly, I would have a really hard time giving her away to a man of lower standing, such as Mr. Pembroke, if he had been her choice. Personally, I like Devlin. Or at least I think I do. I keep thinking of him the way he was during the summer he spent at Chester Park, and I’m afraid I will miss any flaws in his character just because it was a long time ago. People do change, you know.”
“He hasn’t changed so much,” Rake mused, “Not really.”
“No?”
“In my opinion, I would say he’s better now, as he has done his wild days. Now he is ready to settle down. And one thing is for sure. He will never do anything to make Fanny or any future children unhappy, as he had the worst childhood imaginable.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” a familiar voice interrupted. Lord Saxton appeared from nowhere, suddenly standing between them, watching the couple who had eyes only for each other.
“Whatever do you mean, sir?” George frowned.
“Conan succeeded so thoroughly with his patronizing of his son that Devlin has got a rather stupid idea of how his own presence would affect the one he loves, in a bad way.”
George and Rake stared at him, not really understanding what Lord Saxton was trying to say.
“Devlin thinks Fanny and eventual future children would be much happier without him, so he will make sure they will be influenced by her loving family instead of by him.”
“What?” Rake said hoarsely.
“I know.” Lord Saxton shook his head. “It’s so stupid.”
“Goodness me.” George could hardly believe his ears. “How can he ever think she will be happier without him by her side? And his children happier without him? They need a husband and a father, not someone who comes to wish them happy birthday once a year!”
Rake shook his head. “It is the dumbest idea I ever heard of, but somehow I’m not so surprised. I know all about how awful Conan was toward Devlin. All the small, petty things that small boy had to endure under his father’s roof.”
Lord Saxton nodded in agreement.
“He needs love, something he has lived his whole life without. But in his urgent need to make everything right, he is going to make himself even more miserable, and probably Fanny too.”
Rake lifted his head and looked at his niece, who was just giving her courting beau another dazzling look that made Devlin’s eyes darken into darkest brown, and then he smiled.
“Don’t worry. It will never happen,” he said slowly.
“No, it won’t,” Lord Saxton agreed, all too aware of what Rake meant, as he himself had come to the same conclusion the day before.
“She’ll never let him.”
“No, she won’t.”
George looked from one to another and threw out his hands in despair.
“What?”
Lord Saxton whacked him in the back, making his son-in-law stumble by the force of it.
“You know your daughter. Fanny will never let him slip away to some faraway corner to lick his wounds while telling himself he’s doing something for the greater good. Your daughter is a resourceful young woman and will probably drag him home again with a good grip of his ear.”
“Ah,” George breathed, enlightened. “No, she will never let him have his way. She is too used to being surrounded by everyone to let him play the sad knight in shining armor.”
“Do you think we should tell her?” Rake asked Lord Saxton.
“No, don’t spring it on her now. It’s not something that affects their relationship nor their perfect match. Personally, I think this is the only bad thing about him, and you should let her try to handle it herself, if it ever will come to it. And then, and only then, should we tell her, just so she knows it’s not about her.”
George looked hard at his father-in-law. “How do you know him so well?”
“He’s one of my boys.”
This caught George by surprise. “He is?”
“And clearly one of the best. He has done more for his country than anyone ever will know.”
“Does Fanny know?”
Lord Saxton shrugged. “I don’t know, and I’m not going to ask her. I think it’s up to him to tell her, if she doesn’t already know about it. It’s all about trust, you know.”
“You are a good man, sir,” George told the only man alive who had the ability to make him feel like an awkward little boy.
“I know,” Lord Saxton said as he left them, heading for his wife and daughter.
Chapter 18
Fanny lighted the candle beside her bed and closed her eyes with a happy sigh. It had been such a wonderful night, filled with romance and laughter.
And two wonderful and surprisingly hot kisses.
She sighed happily again.
Those kisses had moved her world. Nothing would ever be the same again. Now she could hardly wait for the next secret meeting, and the next hot kiss.
She had been a bit upset with him for scaring her when he dragged her into the meeting room, but all anger had vanished when his lips claimed hers. Nothing in her most vivid fantasies had been even close to how wonderful it had been to be in his arms.
She couldn’t help wondering if this was how everyone felt when they kissed someone, but something made her think it wasn’t.
She was in love with Devlin, and it must make some difference, she thought. For example, when her uncles kissed their mistresses, she was sure it wasn’t the same. Those women were only there to fulfill the men’s needs, not to enlighten their lives.
Sin had, without going into too much detail, explained to her the difference between a wife and a mistress. He’d said that most married gentlemen had other women on the side, because men’s needs were much stronger than a gently bred lady could fulfill. It hadn’t sounded like something bad, even though she had promised herself never to marry a man with a mistress.
But the thought of Devlin kissing another woman was like a fist in her gut, and the hatred that filled her heart against this other woman, whoever she might be, scared her.
What if Devlin would refuse to get rid of his possible mistress? Would she be able to live with it? She guessed it was something she would have to endure as his wife, as anyone’s wife, but she didn’t like the thought at all. She knew she wanted Devlin as husband, to share the rest of her life with him. So maybe she would be able to endure another woman, as long as she had Devlin in her life.
She frowned in the darkness, not as happy anymore.
A sound disturbed her thoughts. Was it a tap on her window? She lay quiet, perfectly still, listening for it to repeat, but could hear only the pouring rain outside.
Just as she came to the relieved conclusion it had been merely her imagination, another tap was heard, and this time there was no mistake about it. Fanny sat up, her heart beating faster than a galloping horse’s hoofs, and tried to see the window through the thick curtains that surrounded her bed.
Her fear of darkness immediately made her think of monsters, and for a second she considered putting a pillow over her head, but the thought of someone entering her room when she couldn’t hear or see made her cast the idea away.
The next tap was harder, as if someone was desperately trying to get her attention. With shaky breaths she got out of bed, slowly heading toward the window.
As she passed the fireplace, she grabbed the poker and, with it in her hand, felt more secure.
The next tap wasn’t just one tap but more like thunder. She guessed there was no danger lurking, as it was so noisy her brother Sebastian, who had the bedroom next to hers, probably would have heard it if he were home.
Without losing her grip on the poker, she pulled the curtain aside as fast as she could, to surprise the intruder, and then she screamed.
Outside her window, on the thin windowsill, sat Penelope, drenched by the rain. Fanny tried to open the window, but to her despair it was caught, and she had to pry it open with the poker. With a terrible crash it flew open, and Fanny tumbled backwards as Penelope fell into the room.
Before either of them could speak, Fanny’s father came storming into the room, closely followed by most of her other relatives. They stopped short as they spotted the soaked Penelope on the floor beneath the open window.
“What on earth are you doing here?” George bawled. “Are you out of your bloody mind? This is the third floor you’ve entered. The
third
floor! What of all stupid things in the world could make you do such a bloody idiotic thing?”
Caroline put her hand soothingly on her husband’s arm. “How are you, sweetie?” she asked with a voice full of motherly care, and Penelope sobbed in response.
Caroline kneeled in front of Penelope and opened her arms, and the weeping young woman threw herself into them. Over Penelope’s shaking shoulder, Caroline gave the men a look that clearly told them to get the hell out of there, and after muttered comments they left with little protest. Tears were best left to a woman to handle.
Rake stayed on, though, ignoring his sister-in-law’s forceful stares, and helped Fanny up from the floor.
“Is Lord Newbury angry with me?” Penelope sobbed, and Caroline shook her head.
“No, sweetie. He was just upset because he got a little scared. First, all the noise from Fanny’s bedroom was frightening, and finding you had climbed to the third floor... You could have fallen and been killed!”
“What were you doing out there?” Fanny asked, and Penelope looked up at her friend with tear-filled eyes. When she spotted Rake still in the room, she started to tremble, and this time Caroline obviously didn’t want to let her disobedient brother-in-law have his way.
“Get out. Now!” was all she said, but Rake didn’t obey. Instead, he took a step closer to her, letting go of Fanny.
“No.”
Penelope started to sob again, and Fanny rushed to her friend to comfort her. When Penelope fell into her friend’s waiting arms, Caroline relinquished her and rose slowly to confront Rake. He glared back, his face hard and obstinate.
“Now,” Caroline said.
This time he didn’t answer at all, and his gaze never left Penelope.
“I said now!” she snarled between closed teeth.
And with more force than anyone could have imagined in her small body, she shoved Rake hard on the chest, so hard he lost balance and tumbled backwards through the doorway. Before he could recover from his astonishment, Caroline closed the door in his face, and locked it.
Mother and daughter helped Penelope out of her soaked clothes and into one of Fanny’s thicker nightgowns, and made her sit down in the armchair next to the fire. As Fanny put more wood into the fire, Caroline rang for Nell, who immediately was sent for a tray of tea and something to eat.
Caroline placed herself in the armchair facing the young woman she had known for so many years and whom she loved dearly, almost as much as her own daughter.
Penelope was a mess. Her wet hair was tousled all around her white face, where a large bruise covered her left eye and cheek. She sat with her legs under her, looking more like a small girl than a full-grown woman.
“First I want to tell you how climbing up to Fanny’s bedroom was incredibly stupid and dangerous,” Caroline admonished. “And I want you to promise me that you will never do something like it again.”
Penelope nodded forlornly, as she too was well aware of how her actions were beyond rational comprehension.
“That said,” Caroline continued, “I urge you to tell us what you have been through. You have a bruise on the side of your face that clearly has the shape of a large hand.”
“Please,” Penelope cried. “Don’t make me tell you. I don’t want to go through it again. Please let me just forget all about it.”
“Penelope de Vere, there is no way I will let this be. I love you dearly, as you have always been like a sister to Fanny, closer than a friend. I will not let you leave this house until I know what happened to you. I will give you the choice of telling me alone, if that would make it easier than having to tell me and Fanny. But I tell you this, my girl—if you don’t tell me now, you will have to answer to me
and
my husband tomorrow.”