When Fanny had suggested he take on this role, she’d failed to mention her family was so protective. He didn’t mind that they were, but he wasn’t a threat to her freedom. He was definitely in uncharted waters here, but he’d made promises to Fanny he intended to keep. He meant to be a man of his word, but he was beginning to suspect that no one in this place would ever believe him.
The ladies returned finally, subdued and their spirits low. Along with the duke and the other gentlemen, Jeremy made his way out to meet their carriage. The duchess seemed larger than ever and walked slowly toward her husband. Lord Milo went to her other side and helped get her up the stairs and inside. Jeremy waited for Fanny, finding her the last to exit the carriage.
He smiled to see her and held out his hand to steady her descent. “How are you this evening?”
“Glad to see you,” she promised. She paused and then looked up at him. “I had hoped you’d be here. Where is everyone?”
“I believe most wedding guests have gone to find their own amusements,” he promised. They took two steps toward the manor before Jeremy was forced to revise his statement.
Thwaite hadn’t departed after all and nor had Lord Samuel.
“Good evening, sister,” Lord Samuel murmured as he hurried to kiss her cheek, but whispered something Jeremy couldn’t quite catch in her ear too. He drew back. “How was Clarice when you left her? Already retired for the night, I hope.”
“She’s utterly exhausted. Jessica has remained behind and has asked for Whitfield to join her there tonight.” Fanny nodded to Lord Thwaite. “My lord.”
“Sad times,” he replied. “Sad times indeed to lose such a dear friend.”
Thwaite bestowed a patently false sadness on his face that wouldn’t fool any audience in any theater. “He was much admired.”
“I must change for dinner,” Fanny murmured to Jeremy.
Jeremy, aware they had an audience watching with his own agenda, brought Fanny’s hand to his lips and faked a kiss upon her glove. “I’ll be here.”
After a moment’s consideration, she inclined her head. “Until then.”
“I can hardly wait,” Jeremy promised. He escorted her to the base of the stairs, and affected a smitten sigh when she was out of sight. And then, with Thwaite watching him still, he sauntered back into the library as if he belonged there.
Chapter 7
Fanny’s face ached with the strain of forcing herself to smile for the guests who prowled the halls and drawing room at Stapleton Manor later that same night. The festivities for Rebecca and Lord Rafferty’s wedding had been cancelled out of respect for the dead but no one seemed inclined to not gather together.
Fanny slipped from the drawing room, into the dark and empty ballroom, aware by the time she’d made the halfway point that footsteps followed. It was probably Jeremy Dawes. He’d been her shadow for most of the night. And it had been nice to have him close at hand when Thwaite was so clearly in pursuit. She’d be worried about him if he didn’t already have a wife tucked away at home forgotten and neglected.
But she had other reasons to be grateful for Jeremy’s presence. He’d been instrumental in changing the subject a number of times when the discussion of death had upset her.
Of course, he hadn’t only been with her. He had circulated the room, speaking with her father and brothers, who were brooding, and becoming known to friends and neighbors as well.
He’d even run an errand for Rebecca, which had put a smile on Rebecca’s face for at least half a minute. They had talked together, but of nothing of any real consequence.
Perhaps because of her sadness, he had not brought up the fact she’d slept in his arms last night. And for that she was grateful, because she didn’t quite know what had come over her even now. Her emotions felt too raw when she considered yesterday and last night. She’d been weak to show her emotions to a man who barely knew her, and that wasn’t like her.
When she stepped outside onto the terrace, she pulled in a lungful of the cooler county air and let it out slowly, hoping to feel more like herself soon.
The Stapleton grounds were awash with moonlight and appeared magical. She could almost imagine she was alone.
Jeremy stopped beside her. “It’s quiet out here.”
She was aware of his eyes upon her but kept hers on the view. “Hmm.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I followed you. I was concerned.” He shook out a shawl, which Fanny must have left behind on a forgotten chair some time ago.”
She allowed him to drape it across her shoulders and pulled it tight around her chest for comfort. “There’s no reason for concern. I just needed a moment to myself.”
“I’ll leave you be then.”
She glanced up at him, startled by how much she didn’t want that. “It wasn’t you driving me away from everyone tonight.”
“I’m glad.” Jeremy dug his finger under his neckcloth and tugged. Fanny had noticed him doing that earlier at dinner, several times actually.
She turned fully to face him. “You look uncomfortable, sir. Let me see if I can help loosen that for you.”
He lifted his chin. “I should have gone up and fixed it, but I didn’t want to leave you at the mercy of your admirers.”
“They are persistent, even today.”
“Shoddy way to treat you. Following you from one side of the room to the other. It’s clear you’re not yourself.”
“That’s what they were counting on.” He held still as Fanny tried to loosen the knot just a little bit more. “This knot has not been your usual style,” she noted.
“The duke suggested I try something more formal for the evening,” he murmured. “I like the way it looks but not how it hugs so damn tight about my throat.”
She worked on the knot carefully, trying her best not to ruin it. “In my experience, gentlemen usually favor just one or two styles of knot for their cravat.” She frowned. “Why have you started taking advice from my father on how to dress?”
“It’s a habit from the theater. We actors always consult each other when dressing for a new role.” He laughed. “It also seems a good way to stay on the duke’s good side.”
“Father only has good sides. He’s the easiest of men.”
Jeremy snorted as if he didn’t believe her, but she ignored the chance to set him straight while she finished her adjustment. Jeremy could learn a lot from her father, but perhaps not about cravats. “There, done.”
He rubbed his throat. “Ah, that is so much better. Thank you, my lady.”
He beamed at her—and Fanny’s heart gave the most alarming lurch in response. As she stared up into his handsome face, a feeling of disquiet filled her. Jeremy was an actor playing the role of her admirer. She would do well not to mistake his interest for something real.
Fanny turned away and looked up. “I’ve always loved this time of year at Stapleton. The skies are so clear at night. As a child, I always thought I should be able to reach up and touch the stars, they’re so close.”
“I can easily believe you,” Jeremy murmured, looking up, too. He stretched up his hand, fingers reaching for the bright points of light above them. “You don’t get this sort of view when you grow up in the gutter.”
She turned to Jeremy. “Tell me about that.”
“I’d rather not.” Jeremy stubbornly shook his head. “The future is all that matters, or so a very learned woman told me the day she took me on.”
She blushed. “A happy day that was for me.”
“I’m not sure your family would agree with that now. Don’t take this the wrong way, but your father and brothers gathered together are almost as frightening as my childhood was.”
“They mean you no harm.”
He snorted.
“Papa already knows how we met. I told him this, my little play, was my idea and not yours.”
Jeremy shook his head. “He must have been shocked.”
Fanny shrugged, trying not to remember the expression th
at had graced her father’s face when she’d told him she’d hired an actor to play the part of her lover. But she’d explained and reassured him it was only make-believe. “I’m a grown woman and my business is my own. He can do nothing.”
Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sure he knows how to make a man who crosses him disappear.”
Fanny laughed. The idea of her father seriously threatening anyone, let alone Jeremy Dawes, was ludicrous. “My gut, as you men call it, told me that you were a sound investment.”
Jeremy sighed. “Women’s intuition is flawed.”
She was taken aback by his statement. Never before had she heard him speak dismissively of women, or her, in her presence before. “I don’t think—”
He drew closer and lowered his voice, “Now, don’t misunderstand what I’m saying. You are a brilliant woman. Astute at business as any man, I hear, but when it comes to people, it’s not your head making decisions for you, but your heart. You ought to be more cautious who you trust with your confidences.”
“You are worried that someone might learn about last night?”
He nodded.
“Nothing happened between us. Not even a kiss.”
He drew closer still, his voice a low rumble as he continued, “No one would believe I wouldn’t have tried for that or more. You were upset, vulnerable.”
She had been; she still was around him. She swallowed and squared her shoulders. “We know the truth. Nothing happened.”
“Any man would be a fool not to try to win your favor. There are plenty of men…lords…trying to catch your eye even tonight. Why would you not let one of them catch you?”
Fanny crossed her arms over her chest, and it stopped Jeremy’s encroachment. “You’ve been listening to Papa and my brothers say I should marry,” she accused.
“I cannot avoid them or hearing things of that nature.” Jeremy nodded. “Your father mentioned others had taken advantage of you in the past and is suspicious of me too. He warned me not to be another, or I’d regret it, and I swear I will not stray beyond the terms of our contract. But I can easily see how to go about it. Bemoan a lack of funds and your reticule flies open. You believe all people are essentially good.”
“Everyone has good in them,” she protested.
“And so many choose to do ill instead,” he said with a scowl. “People say they care about others all the time and mean it less than a quarter. People are never completely honest.”
Fanny stared at him in surprise. Was he warning her to distrust him, too?
There was so much about Jeremy that she did not know, and so much he wouldn’t say. His past was as murky as the Thames, and he didn’t like to talk about his future beyond the next play. But he had to make plans. He could not hope to stumble from one performance to another and expect to succeed brilliantly. “I think your past experiences have clouded your judgement. I think—”
“Ah, there you are, Lady Rivers!” Lord Thwaite exclaimed jovially as he joined them in the moonlight. “And you are by her side again, Mr. Dawes. I’m surprised you’re not off making yourself known to the young ladies and charming them.”
“It’s hardly the time to charm anyone,” Jeremy noted, in a voice so devoid of warmth that she almost shivered in dread.
Fanny hadn’t heard anyone approaching across the ballroom’s hardwood floor, and she really should have. How much of their conversation had Thwaite heard before interrupting? “Mr. Dawes was just telling me about his hope for a fascinating new play,” Fanny told Thwaite, stepping between them. “I so look forward to seeing him perform again.”
Thwaite smirked and then wiped the expression clean. “Perhaps we’ll watch him together in the future. The view from my box is exceptional.”
“She already has a box,” Jeremy said flatly, moving to her side. “The best box in the theater is right by the stage, and she owns it.”
“Yes, I have always had a great interest in the theater,” she enthused. “I never miss a performance when in London, especially not when Jeremy is onstage.”
Thwaite’s eyes darted to Jeremy and, in the darkness, she sensed they narrowed in suspicion. “Well, now I must discover for myself what sort of performer he really is.”
Fanny felt the hair on the back of her neck rise in warning, but she dismissed the sensation. She had wanted people to believe Jeremy was a romantic interest of hers and leave her to it. From Thwaite, she sensed a keen interest to discover the whole truth. Time to distract him. “And now, having availed myself of the view and the tranquil country air, I was just about to return inside to encourage my sister to play.”
“It would be a pleasure to escort you,” Thwaite said quickly, depriving Jeremy of the chance.
She reluctantly placed her hand Thwaite’s sleeve. “Mr. Dawes was just remarking upon the difference in the clarity of the stars when in the country compared to the lack in London.”
Thwaite looked down at her. “’Tis a prettier view at Stapleton indeed.” Fanny caught a flicker of smug satisfaction on Thwaite’s face before he turned her away from Jeremy. “Do excuse us, sir.”
“Certainly. But I will be returning to the drawing room, as well.”
Thwaite leaned his head closer to hers. “Have you given any thought to the Hampton Street project?”
“Not as yet.”
“It will be a very profitable enterprise,” he enthused. “I have every confidence we can overcome current difficulties with an injection of new money from discerning investors like yourself.”
“That, I shall decide for myself at a later time.”
“We should meet to discuss the project. I wouldn’t want anyone catching wind of our partnership too soon and having you lose your chance to join your friends.”
She shrugged. Fanny was a little too tired for business talk tonight. “I shall look into the matter when I have a spare moment, my lord.”
Thwaite had the sense not to press her and took her toward the fire, where her father sat on a long chaise and guided her down to sit beside him.
Jeremy stopped not far away and caught her eye. “Would you care for a refreshment, my lady?”
She smiled at Jeremy and he smiled back, while her silly heart gave another ridiculous jump in her chest. “A sherry would be lovely, Mr. Dawes. Thank you.”
“Your grace?”
Father held up his empty glass. He was taking Hawthorne’s death very hard. Drinking more than could be good for him. “A refill, port, please.”
“My pleasure,” Jeremy murmured before turning toward the array of decanters lined up across the room.
Lord Thwaite squeezed in beside her as Lord Letterford dropped into a chair that faced her and Father. Fanny had an uncomfortable feeling that, if not for Father’s presence, she’d just been surrounded.
After Jeremy returned with a drink for her and her father, he remained nearby, keeping a watchful eye over her again. She was rather glad she’d not had to ask him to do that.
“There’s been a lot of talk about your Cedar Mill of late,” Thwaite mused.
Fanny sipped her drink before she answered. Her investment in Cedar Mill was no secret…but the changes she’d planned to make were supposed to be still. “Such as?”
“Is it true you’re in negotiations to sell it to that upstart Maxwell Danvers, of all people?”
Fanny worked hard to keep the surprise from her face. Her discussions with Danvers were in the very early stages. “The mill belongs to me.”
“You’d be a fool to sell to him at any price,” Thwaite warned.
Men were always ready to tell her what she should or should not do as if she had no intelligence. The state of her fortune proved she knew exactly what she was doing without any man’s interference. She turned her head to regard Thwaite with not a little hostility. “You are entitled to your opinion, I suppose.”
“Yes, and—”
Father put up his hand. “No business discussions tonight.”
Lord Thwaite a
ppeared ready to protest but finally subsided. “We’ll continue our discussion another time. To Hawthorne.”
Glasses were raised around the room and Fanny sipped her sherry slowly.
Father sighed, staring into his glass. “I don’t feel like this, after all. Dawes, be a good fellow and take this from me. I’m suddenly in the mood to play a bit of music instead of drowning myself in drink. You may take my place here if you like,” Father murmured.
Fanny was relieved when Jeremy crossed the room to take the glass from her father. He slid into the vacated seat beside Fanny’s and a great deal of her annoyance with Thwaite slipped away.
Father started up on the pianoforte, a familiar tune she knew well, and she lost herself in the music and happy memories of times past. Father had done just the thing to lift her spirits.
She turned to Jeremy, who was sitting somewhat stiffly on the edge of the chair beside her. “I was hoping my father would play during your visit. He is very skilled on the pianoforte. Some of my favorite memories are of falling asleep here with my sisters while he entertained us in the evenings.”
Jeremy’s body softened in her direction a touch. “Did your late mother play, as well?”
“Mama had no talent for music, but the current Lady Stapleton does and plays beautifully,” she murmured. “At long last, Father now has someone to play duets with.”
“I look forward to having the opportunity of hearing them play together then,” Jeremy whispered, and then sat back like she had to listen, his fingers tapping on one bent knee.
Lord Thwaite leaned close to whisper in her ear, startling her. “Now your father is occupied, we can talk about that Mill uninterrupted.”
Father came to an abrupt halt. “Fanny, be a dear and come and turn the pages for your old father.”
“You’re not old, Papa,” Fanny exclaimed, jumping to her feet immediately and rushing to do his bidding to get away from Thwaite. His breath across her ear had not been a pleasant sensation. Not like Jeremy’s had been last night when he’d held her.
Father didn’t actually need sheet music when he played, but she was willing to go along with his request. He gave her a long considering look as he made room for her and started up again.
The Lady Tamed Page 7