by Fiona Miers
“What do you need Hannah?”
Hannah straightened and colored pink at his tone. She didn’t dip her head or look away though, it was surprising how much John liked that about her.
“I want to know why you thought it was okay to proposition me last night.”
John stopped walking. Was she serious? “Because I thought you wanted me.”
John most certainly still wanted her. Even in a simple, conservative day dress, she looked delectable. Her hair was pinned up at the sides again but was otherwise flowing over her shoulders in red and gold waves.
Hannah flushed so prettily that John groaned. He was hard again and these breeches would not disguise that fact.
“If that’s all.” John bowed and began edging towards the door.
“No, it’s not.” Hannah cried, surging towards him with a hand outstretched.
“Shh,” John put a finger to his lips.
“I want to know why you thought I was available. Do you usually corrupt virgins? Charlotte said you were a rake, but an otherwise honorable man. Was she wrong?”
John’s eyebrows bounced up. Was she a virgin? And he had stripped to nothing in her presence?
He was damned for sure now.
John collapsed into the nearest chair and Hannah sat down opposite him.
“Well?” She demanded again.
John was speechless.
“I… didn’t realize.” How was he going to get out of this one? He was as good as married if anyone found out what he’d done last night.
John waited for the discomfort that would usually come with that thought. He looked at the beautiful woman opposite him and imagined running his hands through that hair every night. The gave him a strange warmth and comfort, and an arrow of madness shot through his center.
“No,” John said out loud, forcing some anger into his mid-section.
This was all her fault.
“You wear your hair undone like a dock trollop and traipse around the house half dressed in the middle of the night. You wear men’s breeches for goodness sakes that show off every curve of your hips and arse and you expect me not to think you’re available?” John jumped to his feet and glared down at her.
Hurt, shame, and anger were washing over Hannah’s face in alternating, striking waves. John couldn’t stand it. This was why he never spoke to ‘the fairer sex.’ He couldn’t bare their tears, their feelings or their thoughts. He wanted to leave.
“Good day,” John bowed and began to turn.
“Thank you,” Hannah whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.
John swallowed guiltily as he left her alone. What was he going to do with her now?
****
Hannah could barely smile at lunchtime. The sadness consuming her heart made every cell in her body weep. How could John so easily rip away every defense she had?
She knew that the men in America thought her to be too boyish and rough. Most of them wanted her as a friend, not a wife, and she hadn’t minded. However, she hadn’t thought about how her nature would be interpreted in London.
As they sat around the huge table in her cousin’s country house, she had an idea.
“Charlotte, is there any way we could go to London next week?” Hannah asked as a plan formed in her head. It was still a few weeks before the Season would begin, but surely that wouldn’t be a problem?
Charlotte blinked in surprise.
“Of course we can Hannah. I asked you if you wanted to do that when you first arrived. Any particular reason you changed your mind?”
Hannah smiled with as much confidence as she could muster.
“It was brought to my attention that I don’t exactly look like a typical English miss and if I want to attract a husband, then I must alter my appearance. I thought I should order some new gowns, get my hair cut maybe.”
It cut her to the quick that she was thinking of changing any part of her, but she simply couldn’t have the gentlemen in London treating her as John had.
Charlotte’s gaze darted across to John and then looked back at Hannah with an angry expression tightening her lips. “Who would say such a thing to you?”
“John. Of course. Who else?” Hannah answered, without missing a beat.
Changing her dresses she’d do, change her nature? That wasn’t going to happen.
“John? He doesn’t know anything about London Miss’s. He certainly doesn’t associate with them.” Charlotte scoffed and glared at her brother again.
John cleared his throat loudly and Hannah twisted in her chair so that she could look directly at him when he spoke.
“I never said you had to change, Hannah.”
Hannah blinked, was he joking? “You called me a whore.”
There was a loud scraping as Archie pushed back his chair and shot to his feet, clenching his hands into tightened fists. “You did what?” He bellowed at John.
Hannah sat back in her chair. Shocked for the second time in an hour. Her cousin Archibald Turner had a temper, who knew?
John stood up too, leaning onto the table so that he could glare back at the seated females.
“I… did… not.”
Hannah considered telling her cousin about John’s indecent proposal but realized it would not suit her purpose. It was even possible that telling the whole truth may land them both into a marriage they did not want, and she couldn’t have that.
“Sit down please, cousin.”
Hannah waved her hands at Archie and looked at Charlotte for support.
Charlotte reached out for her husband’s hand and whispered to him. Archie gradually relaxed enough to sit, but his breathing was still rapid. John sat also, throwing back his entire glass of whiskey in one shot.
Not smart John.
“Let me put it more delicately. John pointed out to me today that the way I wear my hair and the fact that I wear breeches was not very ladylike.”
John opened his mouth to object, but Hannah stopped him with a stare. Didn’t he realize she was giving them the nice edited version?
Charlotte glanced at her husband then back at Hannah.
Hannah sighed. Oh, damn it. “You agree with him.”
“Not exactly, but I did suggest that we outfit you with all the latest clothes,” Charlotte said gently.
Hannah sighed, her friend was right. They had tried to push her in the right direction when she had first arrived and she had been too stubborn to realize it.
“If money is an issue, you know that I will…” Archie began before Hannah stopped him with a raised hand.
“It’s not the money Archie, I have money. Too much if the truth is known. I just didn’t want to waste it on clothes that I may never wear again.”
“But if you marry a peer you will spend a lot of time in London.”
Hannah ignored that suggestion. She didn’t want to spend a lot of time in town, no matter who she married.
“So, London, next week?” Hannah repeated, knowing that was Charlotte’s earlier intention anyway so she was likely to fall into the plan with gusto.
Charlotte glanced at her husband, who nodded after a moment’s calculation.
“It’s settled then,” Charlotte clapped with delight.
Hannah ignored John for most of the evening and retired to bed after some time with Charlotte. She had almost made it to her room when she saw John staggering down the hallway towards her.
John stopped when he was level with Hannah, leaning against the opposite wall.
“Looks like you can’t handle your brandy sir,” Hannah joked, clutching her candlestick close to her body.
Her father drank a lot of spirits, so John’s level of consumption wasn’t a new thing for her, however, there was something about the was John chased oblivion that made her think he was running away from something.
“I didn’t call you a whore.” John slurred, stepping closer.
Hannah put out her hand and pushed him back a little.
“John, you offered me a pos
ition as your mistress. That would make me a whore. I am not a whore and you are not welcome in my room.”
“Not welcome, not welcome…” John slurred repeatedly and staggered off down the hallway.
Hannah stared at him with a heavy heart, such a lost soul. A beautiful man on the outside it was true, but Hannah couldn’t be certain he had the heart to match.
Chapter 4.
John left to visit another of his friends the next day and they packed also.
Hannah said goodbye to the beautiful country estate that she enjoyed so much and together, they all travelled to London. Archie, Charlotte, William and their beautiful baby boy, George.
And although Hannah was sure that the weeks leading up to the Season would be sluggish, instead they flew by.
Hannah was fitted and refitted. Measured and re-measured for dozens of dresses, bonnets, pelisses’, and boots. She would never know what to wear and when there were so many changes of clothes to happen in a day. Thank goodness Charlotte had assigned her a ladies maid, or she was sure she’d wear her new riding habit to a ball.
“Do you like this color on me?” Charlotte asked, holding up a lavender dress that looked too simple for Charlotte’s usual taste.
“I love the color, but I’m not sure the style suits you?”
Charlotte blushed and Hannah gasped. Had she just insulted her only friend in London?
“I didn’t mean that Charlotte. I meant.., uh...”
Hannah stopped apologizing when she heard Charlotte’s laugh.
“I’m going to need something loose fitting around the belly area,” Charlotte confided, walking over to where Hannah stood in front of the mirror.
The reality of that statement hit Hannah slowly, why would she need… Charlotte was pregnant! Again.
“Oh, congratulations!” Hannah jumped forwards and hugged Charlotte tightly. When she pulled back, Charlotte was grinning from ear to ear.
“I’m hoping for a girl this time,” she whispered, stroking her belly lovingly.
“Three babies in four years, you are amazing.” Hannah sighed. She longed for a family like Charlotte. Children causing havoc and a husband to share her life with.
“Is Archie pleased?” Hannah asked, reaching out and caressing Charlotte’s growing belly. She was shocked to find a small, hard swelling already.
“Archie puts a lot of effort into these babies, he better be happy.”
Hannah cocked her head to the side, unsure of what Charlotte was talking about.
Charlotte smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make jokes like that. I keep forgetting you aren’t married.”
“And a virgin too, despite...” Hannah stopped herself too late.
“Despite what?” Charlotte asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
What John thinks of me…
“Despite my five and twenty years,” Hannah finished.
Charlotte looked unconvinced. “If you ever want some advice or have any questions Hannah, please ask me.”
Hannah returned the smile. Her mother had never been very forthcoming with information about procreation, but she understood the mechanics well enough. She had seen horses and other animals breed.
Also thanks to John she also had an idea of what happened to a human male body when aroused. Heat bloomed in her cheeks at the memory and she turned away to hide her blush.
“Thank you, Charlotte. I appreciate everything you have done for me.”
Charlotte walked to another area in the dress shop where children’s clothes were displayed.
“I’m surrounded by men Hannah, your company is very soothing to me. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish,”
Hannah joined her friend in admiring the baby wear. She’d forgotten that Charlotte had only Archie and her sons for company. It must be nice to have a woman to talk to.
The night of her first ball arrived and Hannah had almost bitten her nails clean off.
She had a divine dress of mint green silk. It had a modest neckline and longer sleeves than she was used to. However, despite its conservativeness in some ways, it clung to her bosom in a way that was slightly embarrassing.
Hannah walked hand in hand into the room with Charlotte, unable to give her cousin his wife for a moment. She needed Charlotte more.
Charlotte guided her over to the drinks table and bent close to whisper in Hannah’s ear.
“You look beautiful and you are charming. We love you, now enjoy yourself.”
Hannah took a slow, careful breath and turned to meet a blonde angel who was greeting Charlotte. An angel who was heavily pregnant.
“Sarah,” Charlotte cried, kissing the beautiful woman on the cheek.
“Hannah this is Lady Sarah Lyre, Duchess of Lincoln.”
Hannah blinked, was she meant to curtsey? Charlotte and Archie hadn’t instructed her much on the needs of addressing the aristocracy. Having grown up around it, she assumed they didn’t even think about it.
“My lady,” she said uncertainly and dipped low. A Duchess was the top of the tree if she remembered correctly from her basic knowledge, that required a low curtsey.
Sarah smiled beautifully and held out her hand. “It’s Sarah please, we’ve heard so much about you.”
Sarah turned to greet the man coming to her side. He was young and handsome, with blond hair and light blue eyes. He slid a possessive hand around his wife’s waist. Hannah couldn’t help but immediately like him. He reminded her of Archie.
“Hannah this is my husband, Oliver. Oliver, this is Archie’s cousin Hannah.”
Oliver didn’t blink about the fact that his title wasn’t mentioned and Hannah once again, wasn’t sure if she was meant to curtsey.
Oliver took up her hand and chastely kissed the knuckles.
“It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Oliver is a good friend of Archie’s,” Charlotte explained, gesturing to where her husband stood to speak to an elderly gentleman.
“Oh, I was just thinking that you reminded me of Archie,” Hannah said without thinking, then covered her wayward mouth with her hand.
All three people laughed and Hannah blushed.
“Why?” Sarah asked with interest. “They look nothing alike.”
Hannah smiled. “It was the way he held you close like that,” Hannah pointed at Oliver’s hand and watched as Oliver, not Sarah, blushed.
Hannah turned to Charlotte, giving Oliver a moment to calm down.
“It’s so hot in here, is that normal?” Hannah asked, fanning herself with a new fan.
“You get used to it. I was quite overwhelmed at my first ball. I’m from the country.” Sarah confided.
A dim memory of Charlotte’s run down on her friends popped into Hannah’s head and she realized who Oliver was.
Hannah was unable to imagine the beautiful and elegant woman in front of her, ever feeling overwhelmed by anything.
“Well, being from America puts me at an even greater disadvantage,” Hannah began to explain, then stopped abruptly as she saw John approach.
Her mouth went dry and her already warm body flushed with heat. He looked absolutely scrumptious in evening wear.
“And why is that Hannah?” John asked as he bowed in greeting.
It took Hannah a moment to realize what he was asking.
“Because I can’t remember any of your rules. Who to bow to, who to call what. Not to mention your silly fashions.” She indicated how her hair had been piled on top of her head and grimaced expressively.
John looked to where Hannah had pointed. “You look beautiful no matter what you are wearing Hannah,” John said without a hint of irony.
Charlotte, Oliver, and Sarah all turned to look at John strangely.
Hannah laughed without humor as her gaze wandered around the room. She couldn’t really believe anything John said to her. “What are those people doing?” Hannah asked, pointing to a couple discreetly slipping out of the room.
“Are they married? Or courting? Don’t you
have rules about supervision?” Hannah asked the group.
Charlotte covered her mouth with her hand as she coughed and Sarah blushed. John cleared his throat.
Wasn’t anyone going to answer her question?
“The lady is married, but not to that gentleman,” John explained, dropping his voice and stepping closer so that Hannah could hear.
“So they’re going to…” Hannah’s voice trailed off.
She couldn’t believe it. What sort of place had her family sent her to?
“This inconsistency between the behavior of men and women is disgusting.” Hannah spat, indicating where another married woman was walking out of the room discreetly with a young rake.
“It’s just the way it is.” John murmured.
That was a ridiculous excuse, ever, and of course, John agreed with it.
“Well, I think it’s hypocritical nonsense. Why can a woman do what she likes only after she is married, but a man can always do exactly as he pleases?” Hannah huffed, taking a long drink of her sherry.
“Well, if you’re looking for a virgin husband Hannah, Charlotte married the last one in England,” John muttered.
“John!” Cried Sarah and Charlotte in unison.
“Really?” Hannah turned towards Archie, utterly intrigued by this idea that a man would wait for marriage, as a woman did.
Archie gazed at his wife with a rather winsome expression and then looked back at Hannah. He didn’t have to say anything, yet Hannah chuckled at the obvious answer to her question. “Well, that just improves my opinion of you, cousin.”
“Thanks,” said Archie dryly.
****
John was struggling with this conversation, a biting pain pulling at his stomach.
“Not that I need a virgin,” Hannah went on, “Someone who hasn’t slept with half the women in London would be good.” Hannah squinted and peered around the room as though she could tell by looking at a man how many women he had experienced in his lifetime.
“That begs the question of how many is too many?” John asked her, deciding to jump into the fire.
Charlotte gasped at his question but Hannah, true to form, bit her lip as though she were thinking about a clever response.