A Family Affair

by Jennifer Wenn

  “No, I don’t,” George answered, bewildered.

  Fanny didn’t answer, though. She was trying to sort out this horrible situation of Penelope’s in her head.

  “I can’t believe it happened,” she whispered hoarsely. “He’s her bloody father! He should love and protect her, not sell her.”

  George went to Fanny and hugged her closely for a long time, the father needing to reassure his daughter that his love for her was true and the daughter needing to feel fatherly love truly did exist.

  Butler came in, his grave face more serious than ever.

  “Lady Nester, for Lady Newbury.”

  George froze. His gray eyes darkened with a seething anger he could hardly control, and Fanny shook her head at him.

  “No, you won’t,” she soothed him quietly, before she told Butler to send the woman in.

  George released her and strode to the fireplace. He grabbed the mantel with as much strength as he could muster, until his hands turned white from the effort.

  To Fanny it looked as though he was trying to keep from hurling himself upon the woman who walked through the door.

  Lady Nester stopped short as she saw who was waiting for her. “I came for Lady Newbury,” she shrilled with a slightly hysterical voice.

  “My mother is occupied, for the moment. Maybe I can help you?” Fanny asked politely, not sure how otherwise to approach the older woman.

  Lady Nester looked ready to faint. She was obviously looking for her daughter and didn’t know how to ask them for her without letting them know she was missing.

  Fanny took pity on her. She knew this woman had not been a part of Penelope’s nightmare last night, as it had all been Lord Nester’s doing, and she must be devastated by now. The poor woman probably had not a clue of the arrangement he had made and why her youngest daughter hadn’t gone home with them.

  If Lord Nester could behave so outrageously toward his daughter, one could only assume he behaved in the same selfish and unethical way to his wife.

  “My mother is upstairs with Penny, trying to sort things out.”

  Lady Nester paled as relief washed over her tired face. For a short moment her angst was visible, before she turned stark white and fainted dead away.

  George rushed forward and, in the last possible second, caught her head before it hit the floor. He lifted her up with a grunt and carried her to the sofa.

  Fanny turned to Butler and told him to get smelling salts, and then she gazed down at their guest.

  “Poor woman,” she said, filled with compassion.

  Her father snorted in a most patronizing way. She ignored that completely. He, like all her occasionally tedious male relatives, could sometimes behave in the most childish way. Her mother had more than once sighed over their lack of dignity when they snorted and rolled their eyes too much in public.

  Lady Nester, who slowly regained consciousness, was soon sitting up, fanning herself with a silken handkerchief. She looked flustered and uncomfortable, understandable since her family had just had an enormous crisis.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” Fanny asked, carefully choosing her words.

  Lady Nester glanced quickly at her before she shook her head.

  “Do you want me to get Penny for you?” Fanny asked, trying to get the silent woman to speak, a seemingly impossible mission.

  “N-no,” Lady Nester stuttered, startled, surprising both Fanny and George. “Please don’t fetch her. I just needed to know where she was, and if she was all right. I was so afraid…”

  They waited for her to continue, but instead she started to gather her things, seeming in a sudden frenzy to leave.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to see Penelope? She had quite an awful night yesterday and may really need her mother.”

  The sorrow in Lady Nester’s eyes was unbearable as she shook her head, unable to speak. Her distress was obvious, and Fanny didn’t argue with her. Instead she picked up the gloves and the reticule Lady Nester had dropped when she fainted and was rewarded with a wobbly, thankful smile.

  Not until the lady was about to leave the room did she ask her, “Would it be acceptable for Penny to stay with me for a while? I am finding it so reassuring to have her around during my first season, to share this with her. I would be forever thankful.”

  Lady Nester stopped in the doorway and looked back over her shoulder at Fanny, who stood there, young and pretty, her back straight, ready to fight for the friend she loved so dearly.

  “Maybe it even could be possible, to avoid complications, for Penny to stay with me for the rest of the Season? Perhaps the rest of this year, so I won’t feel lonely?”

  Lady de Vere nodded, her gratitude visible. “She may stay as long as she wants. I’ll let it be known among our acquaintance.” With one last half-smile, she disappeared through the door.

  George looked surprised.

  The woman had managed to astonish him, and Fanny was thankful he had kept quiet during the short visit. His rudeness would have ruined the meeting. Now, when the visit was done, she was glad he had decided to stay put, as she knew he had needed to hear this.

  They sat down and talked quietly about the visit until Caroline rejoined them. When they told her about it, she was just as relieved as they had been, and so was Penelope when she was told. She did cry a bit for her mother and sister. She would miss them.

  Penelope was given the bedroom next to Fanny’s, even though they always had shared a room during earlier overnight stays. But this time was different, and Fanny guessed her friend needed solitude more than she needed her. But it almost broke her heart when she heard Penelope turn the key in the lock until it couldn’t turn anymore.

  She walked into her own bedroom, now cleaned by the servants and showing no evidence of the night’s events. At the window, she looked down at the ladder still standing against the front of the house. She shivered at the thought of how the distressed Penelope had climbed it in pouring rain with her heart shattered into thousands of pieces.

  Fanny leaned her forehead against the glass of the window, finding its coldness soothing for her pounding head.

  What would Devlin think about this?

  Would he be just as outraged as she was, or would he think of it as nothing, because a father’s right was unbreakable? She realized again how she knew next to nothing about him. Nothing that mattered.

  The things she did know about him were tidbits told to her by others. Devlin was exasperatingly secretive about his private thoughts, and he had up until now told her only his most shallow ones.

  She was going to marry him, and yet she knew so little about him. What if he turned out to be another Lord Nester? She, as his wife, would have no say whatsoever. It didn’t matter how much her family loved her. They too wouldn’t be able to do anything about her situation.

  The husband had all the power, and the wife none.

  She closed her eyes, telling herself she was stupid. He wasn’t like Lord Nester. Deep inside her heart she knew it, but what had happened to Penelope had brought doubt to her mind, and she couldn’t shrug it off. She hadn’t it in her to go back to the innocent girl she had been at Almack’s last night.

  When the distant sound of the doorbell was heard in the background, she knew it was Devlin on his way to her father. Her beau was there to ask her father for her hand in marriage, and she knew her father would agree without hesitation, as he thought Devlin was the man she wanted for husband.

  But was he?

  Could she trust her life and the lives of her unborn children to a man who might or might not turn into a beast as time went by?

  When Nell came to get her, she still had no answers to the questions that roamed in her head. She couldn’t stop wishing she could send her maid downstairs again, to tell Devlin she wasn’t feeling well and ask him to come back some other day. But sending him away was no option, especially as she had already agreed yesterday to marry him.

  When she entered the library where Dev
lin and her father were waiting for her, she felt her treacherous heart skip a beat when she saw him. He was standing in front of her, tall and magnificent, his golden eyes showering her with his warmth.

  She gave him a wobbly smile and could have cried over the frown that slowly took away the lighthearted happiness he had shown when she walked through the door. George grabbed Fanny’s hand and, with his other hand, took hold of her chin, gently forcing her to look into his eyes.

  “Hereford has asked me for your hand in marriage, and I told him you have my blessing, as long as you are willingly giving him your acceptance.”

  Her father was offering her an easy way out, and she felt tears running down her cheeks. Silently, he wiped them away before he kissed her gently on the forehead and left them alone in the library.

  She could feel Devlin watching her, trying to discern what was wrong. When they parted last night, she had been exhilarated and had almost jumped up and down with excitement. But today she was standing in front of him no more than an empty shell of a human being.

  “Your father gave us his blessing, and now it’s up to you, if you will have me?” Devlin broke the awkward silence.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she turned and looked at him. For the first time, she really looked at him, not falling into her normal spellbound stare at the wonder of him.

  He was a tall man, muscular and fit. His hair was dark brown, almost black, and his eyes golden. His skin was smooth and unblemished, his nose straight and aristocratic, his lips firm and yet unbelievably soft.

  She knew he was a graceful man who moved easily anywhere, and his hands were large and strong but yet tender. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel them caressing her breasts and gently stroking her neck.

  “Do you?” he asked again, not managing to wait for her answer.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, before she started to cry. She sat down on the sofa, and hid her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  She heard him move and felt the sofa shift as he sat beside her. He grabbed her hands and forced them gently away from her face before he bent and kissed her softly on her cheeks, wiping the tears away with his mouth.

  The tenderness he showed her made her cry even harder, and in one swift movement he lifted her up and placed her on his lap. He put his hand on her head, and forced her gently to rest her cheek against his heart. Silently he waited for her to finish crying, while he hugged her closely.

  When the last tear had dried, she took a deep shaky breath and managed to give him another wobbly smile. He smiled tenderly back, stroking a loose strand of hair away from her face.

  “You know, even with your eyes puffy from all the crying, and your nose as red as ripe strawberries, you still are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  His loving words went straight into her heart, and she felt a few of her worries easing away.

  He placed a soft kiss on the tip of her red nose, and when she didn’t object, he put another on her cheek. She gave him a small teary-eyed smile, and was rewarded with a soft kiss on the other cheek.

  She leaned closer to him, and slowly and as lightly as he possibly could he placed a chaste kiss on her soft lips. She looked into his golden eyes, enjoying the warmth they showered upon her, and before she could stop herself, she kissed him, deeply.

  Her tongue thrust into his mouth, ravishing it, and his moan made her feel dizzy with the need of becoming one with him.

  When he moved his arms to pull her closer, she grabbed them and forced them back toward the back of the sofa. She turned around in his lap, and straddled him, not once stopping the sultry kiss.

  Not until he was panting with the need of her did she lift her head. She looked down at him, and all the marvelous feelings that made her feel hotter than fire must have shown in her face, or her eyes, because his eyes turned darker, mimicking the fire inside of her.

  “I’m burning,” he whispered hoarsely, as his hands hardened their grip of her arms.

  “Really?” She gave a little smile, hoping it looked just as sultry as she felt, and his breathing became deeper and shakier.

  “You are so beautiful,” he breathed again, looking at her with awe, and she knew she was silly for being so pleased with his exclamation, but she was.

  Extremely so.

  She wet her lips with her tongue, and the moan escaping him told her how much he liked her innocent action.

  “Not as beautiful as you,” she whispered, as she leaned closer to him again and kissed him.

  His response was immediate and honest, as he growled with pleasure over her brazen behavior. The kiss lasted for the longest time, and when they finally broke apart, she could hardly breathe. Strands of her hair had escaped her coiffure, and she tossed her head to clear them from her face.

  “God,” he groaned, as the movement made her shift in his lap. “You have to sit still, or I won’t be able to hold back anymore.”

  She looked inquisitively at him, with her head to one side, and he groaned again.

  “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

  “You can’t?”

  This was becoming more than interesting, she thought. He almost growled at her as his eyes fell to her heaving breasts. She had not a clue what was about to happen, but she realized she didn’t care.

  She trusted him.

  A stone fell from her heart, as the truth settled in her mind and eased her worries.

  She did trust him. Completely.

  So what if she didn’t know so much about him? She had the rest of her life to spend learning all she could. All she needed right now was him.

  “I keep forgetting you are a virgin,” he grunted, as his hands moved from her arms toward her breasts. “You sit here in my lap looking at me like a trained seductress, with your swollen lips parted and inviting and your gray eyes black and passionate.”

  “Oh.”

  She gave him a surprised face, as this was news to her, and he grinned and gave her a fake suspicious look in return. “Because you are, right? A virgin?”

  She laughed over his joke, and threw her arms around his head in a joyous hug. She felt his face against her breasts and tried to lean back, feeling a little embarrassed over her wanton behavior.

  “Ah, my little minx,” he smiled wickedly, showing her without words how much he enjoyed her wanton behavior, and all her discomfort disappeared. This time she didn’t stop him when he let his hands slowly lift her skirt, caressing her knees and her thighs until he found his hot goal. Instead she kept her head back and closed her eyes as she let him have his way with her.

  Without thinking about what he was doing, he pushed her down on her back, got rid of all the fabrics between them, and pressed his manhood against the junction of her legs, feeling the soft tissue stretching to make room for him. Her sudden cry made him stop, and he closed his eyes, begging for patience and restraint.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, as he made the final thrust through her maidenly barrier.

  He caught her shout in his mouth, kissing her until he could feel her responding to him again. When she was moaning with passion instead of crying out with pain, he started to move with his hips again, and was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure from her.

  Faster and faster he thrust, until he could feel her tremble beneath him. With a growl, he made one last powerful move that sent him all the way to the stars and back.

  When they both could breathe normally again, he sat up, not wanting to crush her with the weight of his body. When he saw the blood between her thighs, he winced.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  She gave him a slow smile, filled with contentment and shook her head slowly as she sat up. As he got dressed he glanced at her, not knowing really how to behave.

  Her forlorn behavior when she’d arrived in the library earlier had spooked him. It had made him feel stran
gely unsure of her. Her passion had caught him off guard, and although he had already promised himself not to touch her before their wedding night, he hadn’t been able to withhold his passion.

  “Well,” he said slowly. “Now I guess you won’t have a choice but to marry me, and preferably as soon as possible.”

  She turned around, now fully dressed, and looked at him seriously. “I will marry you, because I think I can love you with all of my heart when I get to know you better, but at the same time it scares me. I can’t help wondering if I ever will…”

  Devlin froze as her voice trailed off.

  “Don’t you think you can love me?” he asked hoarsely, not really wanting her to answer his question, as he was too afraid of the answer.

  She rolled her eyes at him in a very Darling way, and he relaxed. “No, stupid, I am more than halfway in love with you already—and stop the smirking. What scares me is the feeling of not knowing you.”

  He couldn’t stop a relieved laugh. “My dearest Fanny, you must be joking. Of course you know me.”

  “No, I don’t. Not what you truly think about anything, not your feelings about a variety of subjects.”

  He could see this was extremely important to her, so he sat down and put his feet on the table in front of the sofa.

  “All right,” he drawled arrogantly. “Question me.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from giggling as she settled again on the sofa at the other side of the table, facing him. She chewed on her lower lip, and to his surprise he felt himself hardening again.

  “Stop it,” he whispered.

  “Stop what?”

  “The chewing.”

  She looked at him blankly.

  “It’s rather enticing, and if you don’t want to have me all over you again, you need to stop.”

  This time she understood what he meant, and she blushed prettily. “I wouldn’t mind,” she finally admitted shyly, and before he could stop himself he jumped over the table.

  He ripped her clothes, aching with the need to penetrate her, and sighed loudly with contentment as he slid into her. She was still wet, and he soon had her losing control and screaming his name into his mouth.