“Ha! So you were kissed by a scoundrel, and he got away with it. Lucky devil.”
“I suppose,” she murmured. “I am actually very glad I never had to marry him. Scoundrels make terrible husbands in my opinion.”
“And that is the only opinion that matters today,” he promised.
She looked at him curiously. “So, where did your first kiss take place, Mr. Dawes?”
“Oh, no. I’m an innocent still,” he promised with a sly wink. “Never been kissed.”
Fanny laughed outright at his boast. “By all means, keep your own counsel. I don’t mean to pry.”
Jeremy’s grin widened. “Yes, you do, my lady. You’ve been prying into my past since the day we met.”
“It’s your own fault for being so mysterious,” she complained.
He looked ahead. “There’s nothing about my past that a proper lady needs to hear.”
Fanny disagreed, but Jeremy was stubborn about certain things. It had taken her a month to find out he lacked any family or home other than the theater.
They finally came to a trickling brook with stepping-stones across it. It was a pretty hidden spot deep in the woods. “Here we are.”
Mr. Dawes looked around, his eyes narrowing. “Is this where your infamous first kiss was stolen?”
“Enjoyed, and yes, I was on my way back from a party and got a stone in my slipper. I had to stop to remove it and had lagged behind.”
“And the scoundrel took advantage of your lack of chaperone.”
She couldn’t continue to lie when the truth was more fun. She shook her head. “It was I who took advantage of him.”
Jeremy Dawes blinked but then his eyes lit up with delight. “You did?”
She shrugged. “I was a precocious sixteen-year-old and determined to get my first kiss before my young sisters did. When it was over, I felt decidedly smug for weeks.”
Ordinarily she wouldn’t confide her past conquests to anyone. However, she had a part to play and becoming comfortable with each other would help their performances. She was a smitten lady from today. Walking along with a handsome man she admired. Tongues were meant to wag enough when they were seen together so that her real would-be suitors would think twice before interrupting.
Jeremy shook his head. “My first was with a whore.”
Fanny winced. First kiss or sexual encounter? He didn’t clarify further, and Fanny wouldn’t ask. She suspected they might very well be the same for a man of his background. But she felt bad for him. He did not sound as if his first kiss was as happy a memory as hers had always been.
“I knew you’d be repulsed.”
She lay a hand on his arm. They were very different, but she would not let that taint her opinion of him. “Mr. Dawes, I do not intend for one moment to criticize you, but I regret the encounter for the obvious lack of affection in your voice when you spoke of the experience.” She studied him a moment and then, since they were alone, stretched up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.
He smiled shyly. “That wasn’t bad, but I think you could do better.”
“Oh,” Fanny complained as she swatted him with her hand. “Are you going to now coach me on kissing, too?”
“Kissing in front of an audience is different than real kissing,” he informed her. He drew close, catching hold of her hand, holding it against his chest. His face lowered until he was an inch away from her lips. He stopped there, his brown eyes warming her all over. “It’s more convincing if the kiss could happen but doesn’t.”
She looked up into his eyes, waiting to be kissed, and when his gaze flickered to her lips, she almost couldn’t breathe for the anticipation curling through her. “Jeremy.”
“Fanny, darling,” he said with a sigh, but suddenly took a pace back and let go her hand. “Like that.”
The disappointment Fanny felt was unbelievable. She’d imagined he’d kiss her, but it was all an act. The spell was broken. The scene over.
Fanny took a swipe at his arm again for leading her on but then laughed along with him. It was just a game. “You are horribly believable.”
“If only the company could see me now. I’d be guaranteed a leading role with you playing opposite.” Jeremy put his hands behind his back. “There’s something of a long walk still to go, isn’t there?”
Fanny put her hand to her belly, realizing her stomach was still doing little flips of disappointment over that pretend almost-kiss. “Yes, and we should be going so we might return in time for luncheon with everyone. I’ll introduce you to everyone then.”
They moved off again, and Fanny struggled to find a new topic to talk about, other than return to discussing their past amours and their current play.
Mr. Dawes gallantly held her hand when they encountered tree roots that had made the footpath uneven. He helped her cross and then let her go. “When did you meet Lord Rivers?”
“A few years after my first kiss. He was much better than the scoundrel and had much to teach me about passion.”
Jeremy laughed softly. “I’m beginning to suspect he’d little to teach you about passion but the mechanics of coupling.”
How right he was. By the time Fanny had married, she’d devoured every salacious word written about intimacy and gossiped with friends, married or not, about their romantic encounters. She had been well prepared for taking a husband the first time. She might look and sound like a proper lady, but her mind was decidedly wicked. “Mr. Dawes, there is another delicate discussion we must have before you are introduced to the wedding guests.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and it is a little uncomfortable discussion to have, I’m afraid. Should you encounter a lady you fancy, do tell me, and be discreet if you arrange a private meeting with them.”
His eyes had widened as she’d spoken, and she charged on.
“Gentlemen and women of the ton have a tendency to hop beds at house parties, and while not discouraged, it can have dire consequences. Married ladies possess a degree of boredom with their husbands, many think the rules no longer apply once they’ve fulfilled their duty of delivering a healthy heir and spare. All handsome gentlemen, wealthy or not, married or not, are generally considered fair game. I wouldn’t want you to find yourself involved in a scandal, unaware of the danger or consequences.”
He nodded. “Do you mean the consequences of being cited in divorce proceedings?”
“I was more worried about you having to meet a husband at dawn for a duel of honor,” she whispered.
He laughed. “I hadn’t planned to kiss any married women. Or any at all.”
A degree of relief and disappointment swept through her. “According to my younger brother, no one ever does until an opportunity presents itself.”
“Your brother, Lord Samuel Westfall?”
“Yes, he is something of a libertine, I am afraid. Half my friends think themselves in love with him.”
“He loves but never offers marriage. Why? Does he keep a mistress?”
Fanny felt a pang of discomfort at the question but in his role as her sweetheart, Jeremy might find himself in a situation where he was expected to know certain personal details about members of her family. “Not that I know of. He was married once but she died, and he never got over the loss. I miss Gabriella very much still, too. She was a fine woman and a good sister.”
Jeremy Dawes nodded slowly, watching her. “They say weddings bring happiness and melancholy. That’s why so many plays feature them.”
“Indeed, they do.” They reached the edge of the wood and stopped to admire the view of the Hawthorne estate from the boundary gateway. Fanny searched the distance and sighed. The pretty estate home and outbuildings had lost none of their charms since her last visit. Although…
She squinted at the land and buildings again, noticing the early signs of neglect perhaps. “The Hawthornes haven’t the same funds as my family. But they are good people. I heard a rumor yesterday all was not well, though. I see, problems here already. Some
neglect.”
Jeremy looked at her quickly, and then the weed choked orchard. “I’ll hope that is not true.”
“So do I, Jeremy. So do I,” she whispered.
Chapter 4
Jeremy stood back as Lady Rivers greeted a tired old woman in a faded sitting room. “My dear, I would have come sooner had I known the news was so grim.”
Mrs. Hawthorne’s eyes welled with tears. “I did not want to believe I could lose him,” she whispered. “Not like this. Not yet. The children need their father. What will we do without him?”
Lady Rivers held Mrs. Hawthorne by the hand. “Antony is the best of men, and it is my hope he might pull through yet. We must have faith.”
Mrs. Hawthorne appeared not to have slept for a week or more. Her eyes were puffy, perhaps from crying, and there were deep grooves of sorrow etched on her face. Although he was glad to view such a sorrow-filled scene, Jeremy wished he had waited outside.
Unfortunately, Lady Rivers’ words only brought the woman closer to the brink of tears. Losing a husband and father must be difficult. Jeremy had never known his parents, or if he had, he couldn’t remember them now.
Mrs. Hawthorne seemed to calm slowly, but then she glanced toward Jeremy with an apologetic smile, as if just remembering he was standing there listening to her weep. She wiped her tears away. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
Fanny smiled and gestured Jeremy closer. “My dear, this is Mr. Jeremy Dawes, my new London friend. He’s an actor and he’ll be joining us for my sister’s wedding.”
The woman mumbled a greeting of welcome. “Oh, yes, the wedding. An event sure to be a source of conversation for many years to come. I was very sorry to have missed your father’s wedding to dear Gillian, and yours, too. Now I could miss this one as well.”
“My wedding was many years ago,” Lady Rivers murmured.
“You were so beautiful,” Mrs. Hawthorne claimed.
“I was then.”
In Jeremy’s opinion, Lady Rivers was beautiful now. She had such vitality and a wonderful habit of laughing at almost everything he said. There were a handful of years’ difference in their ages, with Jeremy being younger, if he was right about his own age.
Mrs. Hawthorne dabbed at her eyes. “Perhaps I’ll be lucky and attend the next wedding. Yours perhaps.”
Fanny shook her head. “I shall never marry again. You know that.”
Mrs. Hawthorne sighed. “Not even for love?”
She laughed softly. “Especially not then. Love would suit me very ill. I’m enjoying life far too much on my own.”
“It suits me very well.” Mrs. Hawthorne sniffed. “I can’t bear to think of a world without my Antony.”
Fanny was suddenly hugging the woman, but Jeremy heard her whisper, “If I could survive losing Rivers, you can, too.”
And then Mrs. Hawthorne fell apart completely, sobbing her eyes out.
When Lady Rivers continued to hold the weeping woman, Jeremy began edging backward toward the door. This is where the scene should naturally end if it were a play. There was little he could do or say to be a comfort to a woman about to lose the love of her life. Everyone died, whether you loved them or not.
Jeremy had reached the doorway when Fanny noticed his intention was to go. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her arms still about the sobbing woman.
He retraced his steps toward the front door, uncertain of what to do with himself now though. But he would wait, of course, for when Lady Rivers had need of him again.
Before he reached the peace of the outdoors, however, he heard a sound.
A whisper quickly silenced. A whimper or a sob.
A young child.
Jeremy looked about for the source and found five sets of sad eyes watching him from a window seat in the nearest room. Fanny had only mentioned there was a daughter of marriageable age, not that there were a handful of tiny ones, too. They looked to be of an age to walk and talk but sat alone, with not a servant anywhere in sight to look after them. Their sad faces tugged at his heart.
He stepped cautiously into the room and lowered himself to their level. “Good morning.”
But they just watched him.
The children wore smocks and had their hair cut to a length just below their ears. It was impossible to tell boy from girl given the way they were dressed. They were probably too young to understand the scope of the loss that was about to befall the family, but they were sad just the same. “You’ll be all right if you look after each other, I promise,” he said, hoping that could be true. “What are your names?”
“They’ve been told to be quiet,” a woman said suddenly behind him. “And not talk to strangers.”
Jeremy shot to his feet and faced a woman of an age to be out. Despite the glare, she appeared worn down in spirit and resembled Mrs. Hawthorne a great deal. This could only be the daughter of marriageable age he’d heard about. “You must be Miss Hawthorne.”
She did nothing to confirm nor deny. “Who are you?”
“Mr. Dawes. I am Lady Rivers’ good friend. You must not have seen her arrival on foot from the woods.”
“No. I was taking a walk in the opposite direction,” she said slowly, but still seemed skeptical.
“Lady Rivers and your mother are just down the hall in the sitting room.”
Miss Hawthorne looked down the hall and then back at him, her eyes full of suspicion.
Jeremy put his hands behind his back. If he’d intended to steal anything from this house, he had sufficient time already to have made an escape. “I promise not to move from this spot until you confirm it.”
She frowned and then rushed down the hallway. At the sitting-room door, she cried out and rushed inside. The children followed after their older sister. Jeremy could imagine an affectionate greeting being exchanged within the sitting room, but he stayed rooted to the spot until Miss Hawthorne reappeared again and released him from his promise.
“Lady Rivers asked me to remind you not to go too far.”
He nodded. “I had only intended to stroll the gardens closest to the house.”
She glanced back inside the sitting room, a frown growing. “She said that would be best.”
As he turned, he noticed the children again. His character, if serious about courting Lady Rivers, would certainly try to win over her friends and be helpful. “Would you allow me to take the children outside for some air and exercise? Just in the gardens. They have been very quiet, and I think it would cheer them up to be in the sunshine.”
Miss Hawthorne seemed to sag at his offer. “It has been very hard to entertain them.”
“Then please allow me to be of assistance. Perhaps the children can show me their favorite play spots outside.”
“I think they would like that.”
Another quick grin, and Jeremy held out a hand to the young ones. “Shall we go outside and see if we can find any pretty flowers to brighten your mother’s sitting room?”
They rushed outside, ignoring his outstretched hand but holding on to each other. Jeremy followed, watching them run around through the gardens, then stop to confer with each other at a whisper. Then suddenly they darted off toward a distant garden gate.
“Wait! Please not too far,” he called but was ignored.
Jeremy lengthened his stride and gave chase into what seemed to be an orchard, annoyed that those seemingly placid children were as wily as any overly ambitious understudy determined to steal the scene. He eventually found them all sitting beneath an apple tree, holding hands and whispering.
He counted heads to make sure he had them all.
Then countered again—because he had two more heads than he’d thought he’d started out with.
But then he shrugged. Lady Rivers hadn’t said how many in number the Hawthornes were. He had seven now, instead of the five he started with. That could be all of them or perhaps there were more still somewhere about the estate.
They didn’t seem to need him to entertain
them, so he leaned against an old apple tree, a silent observer. Jeremy looked about him and reached up to brush an apple hanging above his head. He wasn’t hungry, and so he left it there to finish growing. But before Lady Rivers and her money had come into his life, he wouldn’t have hesitated to take what he needed to survive.
He was well versed in criminal activities, though Lady Rivers had no idea of his past. And she never would if he had his way. To her, his life began and ended at the theater. He would lose her patronage if she learned his first profession had been thief…and that he’d been rather too good at it.
He looked about again, taking in his surroundings. What a world to grow up in. No filth, abundant food just waiting to be picked and eaten from any tree or vine. This family was luckier than any he’d ever known. They would have every opportunity in life.
He became aware that the whispers continued, and glances in his direction grew in number, then the children were all up on their feet again. They tore through the garden, running away from him, gathering up flowers, a little from each plant, and once they had enough, they ran off together again.
Jeremy was forced to give chase, and he was glad their haste seemed to be a return to the Hawthorne house only.
He caught up to them just as they started up the stairs.
But then they began to creep, tiptoeing through the doorway into the dim inner hall. Jeremy followed in a similar fashion, as silent as he’d been when stealing his way into a stranger’s home, because he sensed a change in the air inside the house. Years of watching others and listening to his instincts told him all was not well.
Down the hall, servants had gathered together, faces lowered. Fingers covering their lips.
And in the room they stood outside of, a woman suddenly began to wail, desperately sad.
Heartbroken.
Jeremy froze as the horrible sound of loss faded away, only to start up again.
If he was not mistaken, the gentleman of the house had just passed away.
The Lady Tamed Page 4