The Lady Tamed

by Boyd, Heather

  Fanny dutifully pretended to turn page after page. It wasn’t long before Lord Thwaite got up and called out good night to everyone before stalking off for his chambers upstairs. She hadn’t been aware he’d be staying tonight and hoped not to see him over breakfast tomorrow morning. Letterford and a few others went with him, thankfully, leaving only her family members and Jeremy behind.

  Jeremy had leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes to listen to her father play. She studied his handsome face in repose…and something inside her softened. She admired him openly; how could she not? But it had never been his face that had drawn her notice. It was the way he flirted, the way he never sought her favor or coin. It was the way he laughed at everything she took for granted.

  “You remind me of your mother tonight,” father said, drawing her attention back to him.

  “I do?” Fanny had never thought she resembled her mother very much, who’d been beautiful but flighty and vain and contrary. Possessed of fierce intelligence and stunning selfishness sometimes, too. It was a sad truth that Fanny’s life had become less unpredictable after she was gone. “Why tonight?”

  “Your mother was forever being pestered by ambitious men.”

  Fanny leaned lightly against her father’s shoulder. “Mother would never have betrayed you, or the family interests.”

  “Oh, I know that,” he promised. “But some men seem to think persistence will be rewarded anyway and they keep returning, like a bad smell.”

  She hoped that would not be the case with Thwaite. “I’m still not convinced I should invest in Thwaite’s new venture.”

  “It’s not his venture or sudden interest in Cedar Mill that worries me,” Father murmured. “It’s him. He’s got his eye on you for something, sweetheart.”

  Fanny straightened up.

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve the sense to feel it already, which is why Dawes is following you about so closely tonight. Thwaite had quite a sour look about him when you both slipped away together earlier.”

  “I’ve never encouraged him to imagine I would be interested in him that way. Besides, he’s married.”

  “Married men betray their wives, and some men don’t bother to wait for an invitation either.” Father frowned momentarily as he played a difficult passage. “Do you know the story of how Thwaite acquired his country estate?”

  “It was part of his first wife’s dowry, wasn’t it?”

  Father nodded. “Thwaite ruined her to force the match.”

  Fanny’s blood ran cold. “He wouldn’t dare force me.”

  “No, perhaps not under my roof, but I’d prefer you not face that same situation somewhere else. Oh, I know you’re a woman of experience now, and widows often do as they please. But he could create enough of a fuss to damage your reputation beyond repair. He’d make it seem that your only choice was to give him what he wants. Be careful. He pressed me hard to stay the night. I won’t have you unhappy. Keep Dawes close.”

  Fanny blinked as Father suddenly cut his performance short and stood to address the room. “Milo, Samuel. I’ve just remembered a matter that requires a discussion between us.”

  Father popped a kiss on her head and went off toward his study with her startled brothers, leaving Fanny and Jeremy as the only two souls left in the room.

  Jeremy regarded her drowsily. “What did I miss?”

  She chuckled. “Nothing of importance. You should go to bed.”

  “Not until you retire.” He climbed to his feet and stretched his long agile limbs. “Do you play the pianoforte as well?”

  “Do you think musical talent runs in every great family?” Fanny banged her fingers down on the keys, inelegantly as always.

  “Stop, stop,” Jeremy cried, putting his hands over his ears. “I would have accepted no without any proof. At least now I’m fully awake.”

  Fanny smiled, running her fingers along the keys, the most pleasing sound she’d ever made on the instrument, before covering them up. “It’s not a talent I’ve ever aspired to possess.”

  “His grace plays very well. Better than anything I’ve ever heard. Almost put me to sleep.”

  “Almost? I’m fairly sure I heard a snore.” Fanny put the music sheets away in their usual place.

  “I do not snore,” he insisted. “And I was only resting my eyelids until you had need of me.”

  When she turned around to respond, Jeremy was peeking out the windows.

  He grinned. “Stars are still out.”

  She laughed. “Did you expect them to disappear so quickly?”

  “They do in London.”

  She strolled toward him, drawn to his smile and the warmth she remembered finding in his arms. “You are not in London anymore, my dear sir. You are in the country, where the skies are often clear for hours on end and the soot and fog rarely inconvenience anyone for long. The weather wouldn’t dare be anything but perfect for my sister’s wedding day. Father wouldn’t allow it.”

  Jeremy laughed. “You know, your father has your sense of humor.”

  “I think it’s the other way round, sir.” Fanny took after her father far more than she might have her mother and was proud of that. She suddenly yawned, though she tried to hide it. She didn’t want to be alone yet, but parting from Jeremy was a certainty.

  Jeremy presented his arm. “Might I offer my paltry escort upstairs, my lady?”

  “Indeed, you may. It has been a very long day indeed.”

  Fanny slipped her arm through Jeremy’s and felt…safe. Content. The discomfort of being pursued by Lord Thwaite slipped away slowly.

  “What was your father whispering to you?”

  She didn’t have to tell Jeremy about Father’s warning, but she wanted to. “He warned that Lord Thwaite has an interest in me.”

  “He does.”

  Fanny blinked. “How did you deduce that?”

  “He said as much to Lord Letterford when the men gathered to mourn Mr. Hawthorne earlier today.” Jeremy looked down on her with a frown. “I wager that’s why he wrangled an invitation to stay the night. Letterford, too, has an interest in you, but he’s not as obvious about it.”

  “I certainly do not have an interest in any of the guests staying at Stapleton.”

  Jeremy pulled an excessively sad face. “I’m sorry to hear I’m boring you.”

  “I meant guests other than you,” she promised. That feeling of being flustered crept back. “Oh, this is dreadful. Thwaite and Letterford, I mean.”

  “You are the last Westfall daughter in want of a husband. I’m sure there are wagers written in any number of betting books.”

  “I don’t need a husband. I have you,” she promised.

  “For two weeks, and then it’s back to the theater for me,” Jeremy reminded her.

  “I think I’ll miss having you around all the time,” she whispered.

  “We will see each other at the theater,” he promised, “and perhaps you’ll want my escort to other places, too.”

  Yes she could but suddenly that didn’t feel like enough anymore.

  Chapter 8

  “Thank you for a wonderful evening, my lady,” Jeremy murmured as Lady Rivers’ hand fell from his sleeve at the top of the stairs. Her room was one way, his the other.

  She hesitated but then smiled. “Good night, sir. Sleep well.”

  “You, too.”

  He watched her go, feeling rather glad he had come to the country. Protecting Fanny from fortune hunters and cheering her up wasn’t all that hard to do and left him with a good feeling around his heart.

  She was almost at her door when she suddenly drew back from it.

  “Jeremy!” she called, gesturing to him with one hand to join her urgently.

  The tone of her voice caused the hair to rise all over his body. Jeremy rushed to her side.

  Fanny had her hand at her throat as she whispered, “My door is open.”

  “Perhaps a maid left it that way?”

  “No. It was locked when I went
down to dinner, and no one should have reason to enter without informing me.”

  Jeremy leaned past Fanny and nudged the door open wider with his foot. He peered into the dark recesses of the chamber and saw nothing and no one to cause alarm immediately. But he stepped around Fanny and entered the darkened bedchamber ahead of her. He crossed the room to the windows and flung open the drapes—hoping not to reveal an intruder by moonlight.

  As far as he could see, the chamber was empty now.

  But it was not as neat as he expected it to be. Not like last night, when they’d returned to Stapleton late after the long day of grief.

  He went to the hearth and stirred the fire to life. When he had a flame, he lit a few candles around the room and turned to study the chamber.

  There were books spread out across Fanny’s bed, open, as if someone had been flicking through them. Someone had clearly been in her room while she had been downstairs. He grew very angry when he spied drawers open and undergarments haphazardly hanging from them. No thief would ever leave so obvious a sign of their actions. It invited an investigation.

  “Someone has indeed been here, Fanny, but they are long gone,” he announced, beckoning her to come and look for herself.

  Fanny rushed into the room and spun around wildly, horror written all over her face. “My books and journals are out. My jewels?” She raced around the chamber, checking into all the nooks and crannies where she must have stored her possessions. She sagged. “Nothing has been taken. Thank God.”

  Jeremy knew all about stealing. How not to leave a trace that you’d ransacked a chamber. Whoever had done this was an amateur and in a hurry, or had another motive. “Are you sure nothing was stolen?”

  She combed through her jewel box a second time. “Yes. Who could possibly have done this?”

  Jeremy quietly pushed the door shut. The houseguests sprang to mind, but they were all peers and he couldn’t accuse one without proof. “Are you sure everything is accounted for?”

  “I believe so. But the information in my journals…” Her eyes narrowed. “That is not for public consumption.”

  He passed a journal to her. “What do these say?”

  “That one states how much I have deposited at the Bank of England. The others list all the properties I own and their values. Improvements I want to make. In short, the ledgers are a reckoning of my entire fortune and my future plans to increase it.”

  A fortune in information if one knew how to take advantage of that.

  While Fanny collected the ledgers from the bed into a neat pile, Jeremy went to inspect the lock on the door, because it had slowly opened itself again without help.

  He studied the latch and wood, then swore under his breath. “It’s been forced open,” he said to her in a whisper. “I can’t secure it again, either. Come, gather up your valuables and we’ll inform the duke.”

  “Not tonight. I don’t want to worry Papa before the wedding.”

  Fanny was rifling through the small case Jeremy had brought to Stapleton for her. And then she went through the contents a second time.

  “Worry him? For heaven’s sake, Fanny, nothing material might be stolen, but your right to privacy under your father’s roof has been. You must tell him.”

  She paused finally in her frantic search. “Oh dear.”

  “What?”

  “Our agreement. It was in the satchel this morning, and now it’s no longer there.”

  Jeremy narrowed his eyes on her. He hadn’t really read the agreement. He couldn’t actually read more than a few words, but Lady Rivers had not known that when she’d insisted he sign it. She’d told him enough that he’d been grateful; to have someone take an interest in his career and give him a little in the way of funds was more then he’d hoped for. “Are you sure you haven’t simply misplaced it?”

  “No, it was definitely inside this journal.” She covered her mouth and stared at him a long time. “This is a nightmare.”

  “Why?” Jeremy drew closer to Fanny, curious about her panic. “Our arrangement shouldn’t cause an embarrassment for you. Other actors have wealthy patronesses support them all the time and no one seems to care very much.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “But with you it’s different.”

  That made him smile but he shook aside the sense of pride. “Now about your father…”

  “Tomorrow. I’ll need you to stay with me again tonight,” she asked, looking up at him slowly. “If the door will not lock, I simply won’t be able to close my eyes wondering if whoever it was will come back.”

  “Stapleton will want to know about this,” he persisted.

  “I’d rather deal with this matter without his help.”

  Jeremy could see her heels digging in. She was worried, but not enough in his opinion. “Why won’t you tell him what has transpired?”

  “Because he’ll only worry and then he’ll wake every one of the guests to question them. We would run the risk of starting a scandal that I’d very much like to avoid. The state the room was left in makes me wonder if a scandal was what was hoped for. Father’s enough on his mind now with the wedding, Gillian and the death of Mr. Hawthorne. I will not risk ruin of my sister’s wedding. This must be a happy occasion. Trust me, my problem can wait a few days.”

  “Why have you not used your safe for storing your papers? Isn’t that customary for someone like you?”

  Fanny winced. “I lost the only key years ago.”

  Jeremy sighed. He could help her open it tonight. To an untrained eye, the location of the safe wasn’t obvious. But he’d gleaned its location immediately. Behind the painting that was being blocked from view by the dressing screen. He pretended ignorance. “I might be able to help. Where is it? The safe? Is it in this room?”

  “Behind that painting over there.” She gestured to the screened corner. “I don’t suppose you know how to pick locks?”

  He pulled a face, unhappy about the question. There were many aspects of his former life he’d prefer to keep from Fanny, but her immediate need exceeded his objection. “Yes, as a matter of fact I do, but don’t tell anyone.”

  “How marvelous!” She hurried to the screen and pulled down the painting, revealing a style of safe he knew well. “I would be very grateful to have my safe open again. Did you learn for a role onstage?”

  He stepped up to pretend to study the mechanism. It was a simple lock for a man of his special talents. He hadn’t picked a lock in years, but he was sure not to have forgotten one bit of his training. “I’ll need a hair pin and one of your longer hat pins.”

  Lady Rivers provided both and stepped back to observe.

  Jeremy had the safe open in under half a minute. He moved back, keeping his face lowered to hide a flush of shame that had warmed his cheeks.

  “You really are a clever fellow,” Fanny enthused.

  “There aren’t many who’d think so if they’d seen me do that.”

  She darted to the open safe and thrust her hand inside. “At last, my pretty,” she crooned. She held up a tiny necklace for Jeremy to see. “I thought I would never hold these again.”

  “They’re pretty,” Jeremy murmured. But also very ordinary.

  Fanny smiled though. “They’re only coral but they were my mothers, and I always intended to give them to my daughter. Perhaps I’ll give them to one of my sisters’ children instead.”

  Jeremy watched her coil them around her fingers, then he covered her hand holding the necklace. “You should keep them for your own daughter, or a granddaughter.”

  “If I had been blessed with children in my marriage, perhaps I might have reason. Now they are just a reminder that I’m alone.”

  “You don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be,” he said and then scoffed at himself. What right did he have to give her advice about making a second marriage?

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t meant to be. Are you sure you can open the lock again later?”

  “Most assuredly. Why?”
<
br />   “I’d like to be able to open it again.”

  “I won’t have any trouble.”

  Fanny collected her jewels and placed them all inside.

  “There’s enough room to put your ledgers inside, too, if you want,” Jeremy noted.

  “I’ve never kept those anywhere but with me or under my mattress when I travel.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Not exactly the safest place.”

  “It was when I only invited gentlemen I trusted into my bedchamber.”

  He met her gaze and felt both pleasure and a touch of exasperation. Fanny was definitely too trusting. “Humor me on this, my lady. Keep all your important papers in a safe from now on.”

  “Oh, all right, if you insist.” She fetched the ledgers herself and plopped them in with her horde of jewels and stood back. “Are you sure you can close and open the safe again?”

  “Not in any doubt, but only when you ask me to,” he promised.

  Since there was no key, Jeremy manipulated the lock with the pins to lock it again. Fanny peered over his shoulder as he made sure the door was secure.

  She put her hand on his arm. “What was the part you had to play that made you learn to pick locks?”

  “I don’t remember,” he lied, and then hated himself for needing to do so. Picking locks should have no part in his current life. It was dangerous work with dangerous consequences. “I would appreciate it if you did not tell your father of my skills with locks.”

  “I wasn’t going to,” she promised. “Besides, I like knowing little secret things about you that no one else does.”

  He didn’t. He felt exposed and ashamed every single time she managed to squeeze out some unsavory detail of his poor past. He finally faced her. “Now about your door.” Jeremy stared at her. “How about a compromise?”

  “What sort of compromise?”

  “The kind where I don’t spend the night here again. Barricade the door with furniture instead.”

  Fanny glanced about the chamber unhappily. “But every piece of furniture is too heavy for me to move without making a noise and drawing attention, which is the last thing I want to do at this hour.”