The Lady Tamed

by Boyd, Heather

  People had traveled miles for her, too, and she’d loved every moment of the fuss.

  But it was no wonder Rebecca had been nervous about today. This was the biggest wedding that Stapleton Manor had ever hosted, including Fanny’s and Jessica’s.

  From the corner of her eye, she spotted Jeremy Dawes standing at the back of the room. The sight of him, so handsome, so appealing, made a flush of warmth—lust, if she were honest with herself—sweep over her skin.

  She had to admit she’d like a kiss from him…and maybe quite a bit more besides, if he was agreeable.

  Fanny squared her shoulders when Rebecca murmured her name, and she swept down between the rows of guests toward Lord Rafferty and the waiting vicar.

  It would be some hours now before she was released from family obligations. Perhaps by that time she’d have relegated her longing for masculine company to the back of her mind again.

  She moved to the side, ready and willing to be a witness to the nuptials about to take place.

  She lifted her face to see her sister approach. Any trace of pre-wedding nerves had vanished from Rebecca’s demeanor. She was radiant again as she took the groom’s hand, and Rafferty’s face was so full of love it was hard to witness. Father nodded to her as he took his seat beside his new wife.

  As the vicar spoke, Fanny was constantly reminded of her own distant wedding day. She had loved her husband dearly, until his last breath and beyond. But she had to admit that her life felt so empty of late. The work she did for the poor, managing her investments, helping the family when she could, did not satisfy her as much as it once had.

  Perhaps she did need someone in her life from time to time.

  Not a husband, surely. A temporary companion only. A husband would take over her financial affairs and leave her life emptier than it was now. Perhaps Rebecca was right, that an affair with a discreet lover might just be what she needed. For now, Dawes was an amusing companion, and she was enjoying their little performances together.

  Rafferty slipped a ring on Rebecca’s finger and the pair were wed.

  They turned to face the wedding guests as man and wife to wild applause from family and guests.

  Fanny thanked the vicar and fell in behind them, standing beside Wilks as the guests swamped the grinning couple.

  “Lady Rivers, how lovely to see you again,” he drawled.

  “And you as well, my lord.”

  “When are we going to do something together?”

  Wilks and Fanny had different friends and rarely moved in the same circles. “I don’t know.”

  “I was talking about doing,” he waggled his brows suggestively, “something. Together. After all, my best friend and your sister are now wed. We should become better friends, don’t you think?”

  Fanny nearly rolled her eyes at the emphasis Wilks placed on certain words. Did he think she was desperate for manly attention? Lord Wilks, being younger than her, would be the last man she’d ever allow into her bed. He was Thwaite’s son and a libertine. She adopted her most haughty expression. “I don’t follow.”

  “Well, Rafferty is fond of a house party, and as I recall, you are too.” He hooked her arm though his and patted her hand. “We could see much more of each other very easily.”

  “I have attended several house parties in recent years,” she agreed. To discuss investments, and to keep boredom at bay. She’d not bed hopped at any of the prior ones that Wilks had attended. But she hadn’t been looking for a lover then. She wasn’t now, either. “I’m sure we will attend several of the same house parties in future years. That is unavoidable.”

  Jessica rushed over and caught hold of Fanny’s upper arms, dislodging Wilks in the process with her enthusiasm. “Isn’t it wonderful, Fanny?” Jessica cried out as she embraced her.

  “What is wonderful?”

  “How one wedding almost always leads to another,” Jessica enthused. “I suppose you already know that Lord Letterford has proposed to Mrs. Abercrombie and been accepted. Why didn’t you tell us when he must have told you at luncheon the other day?”

  Fanny gaped and quickly looked around the room, discovering Lord Letterford and Mrs. Abercrombie, a widow close to his own age, standing not far away. “He never mentioned an attachment.”

  “She wears his ring even now.” Jessica linked arms with her, turning her away from Wilks. “I cannot wait until dinner. There will be mushroom soup. My favorite.”

  Wilks faded into the mingling guests and Jessica let out a huff. “Eh, that man is horrible.”

  “I take it you’ve had dealings with Wilks before.”

  Her sister frowned. “I met him during my season. He was forever trying to talk to me alone. I talked to him about mushrooms for an hour before he lost interest.”

  Fanny laughed. “Well, I’m glad you were cautious around him.”

  “You should be too. There are much nicer men to choose from to marry than that one.”

  “Whoever said I was getting married?”

  “Well, everyone. I’m always the last one to know.”

  “That is not true. You’ll be first, I promise, should I even decide I miss having a husband to boss me around. Not that I do. Or have even considered the prospect of making a second match for myself.”

  Jessica was frowning. “I don’t get bossed around!”

  Whitfield was suddenly beside them. “Jessica, we should congratulate the happy couple. Now, while there’s no one close to them.”

  “See?” Fanny muttered under her breath as Whitfield led Jessica away. A husband would tell her what to do just like Whitfield was with Jessica now, and Fanny had grown rather fond of bossing herself about instead.

  Fanny made her way to Lord Letterford and Mrs. Abercrombie. “My dears, I just heard the happy news. Congratulations. How simply wonderful!”

  “Thank you, my lady,” Mrs. Abercrombie said with a loving glance toward Letterford. “We wanted to wait till after the wedding, but Letterford couldn’t hold his tongue.”

  “And so he shouldn’t have.”

  “Thank you, Fanny,” Letterford murmured with a small smile. “I say, would now be a good time for us to discuss that spot of business I mentioned before? It will only take a moment, I swear.”

  Since Fanny had thought Letterford was going to embarrass himself and her by proposing, she was taken by surprise that he still wanted to talk to her. “Oh, yes. If you like.”

  “Excuse me, my dear. I will be right back,” he promised Mrs. Abercrombie.

  He took Fanny away from everyone. “Forgive my deception, but I wanted to ask a favor and I hope you won’t think I am presuming on our long acquaintance to ask, but,” he seemed to gulp, “I wonder if I might have the use of your house in Brighton? You see, Mrs. Abercrombie has never seen the sea. I’d like to take her there for our honeymoon trip for a few weeks after we marry.”

  Fanny smiled warmly. “You may visit and stay as long as you like. I’ll send word to the housekeeper today to expect to hear from you soon, and when you’ll be arriving.”

  “That is good of you.” He gulped. “How much might you want—”

  Fanny silenced him with a wave of her hand. “My wedding gift to you both.”

  “I couldn’t possibly accept.”

  Letterford wasn’t a wealthy man, and a late marriage like his deserved the best start possible. “You must accept, because I will not accept a penny in payment,” she warned.

  “You are far too generous. Thank you so much.” He smiled shyly. “It is my fervent hope that one day you find a gentleman who regards you as highly as you deserve, too.”

  “Thank you, and the best of luck to you both.” She waved him off, back to his intended bride.

  Jeremy appeared at her side, his expression thoughtful. “What did Letterford want with you?”

  “Nothing I wasn’t happy to give,” she promised with a laugh and then twined her arm though Jeremy’s. She had one less man to avoid now and that made her day so much brighter. “
It’s a wonderful wedding, isn’t it?”

  Chapter 10

  Jeremy was surprised to discover he seemed to be a tasty treat on the menu for a number of the female guests at the wedding. He hadn’t been so manhandled since he’d tried to slip in to see his first play. The women of the ton were utterly shameless in the way they winked, stared and rubbed up against him as the evening fell, along with their inhibitions. They assumed he could have no objections to their fumbling fingers and suggestive offers to meet later in some out-of-the-way spot.

  But they didn’t know he wasn’t about to break out of character for anyone.

  At the wedding breakfast, Jeremy had unfortunately been seated away from Fanny—too far away to even see the bridal party at the other end of the room. He missed having someone he could talk to.

  “Are you all right there, Dawes?” the duke asked, suddenly appearing at his elbow with a drink in hand.

  “I am, your grace,” he promised quickly

  “Despite your face saying otherwise,” Stapleton murmured.

  Jeremy turned to the duke and kept his voice low. “Did your daughter by chance speak with you yet?”

  “Which daughter? I do have three.”

  “Your eldest.”

  “We said good morning and then she said go away. Apparently, my opinion wasn’t wanted earlier in the day. Ladies only,” he confided. “Why?”

  “Ah,” Jeremy murmured, floundering for a moment. He guessed Fanny hadn’t told him about her bedchamber being ransacked yet. She really should have. “I’m sure she’ll find a moment to speak with you later tonight.”

  The duke gave him a long considering look. “It would save time if you’d just spit it out.”

  “No. She wouldn’t like that,” Jeremy decided.

  The duke huffed. “Daughters. They’ll be the death of me, I swear.”

  Despite the seriousness of what had occurred last night, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the duke’s long face. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. Women keep men on their toes.” The duke sighed. “Well, if you’re not going to inform on her, I’d better wait for her to come to me in her own time.”

  But how long would that be? Jeremy hoped not too long. He wouldn’t be spending another night in her chambers, but at least he knew her door latch had been fixed and a secondary bolt added at his request, too.

  The duke was pulled away and Jeremy was left standing alone again. Across the room, Fanny glided past on the arm of a friend of hers. She appeared to be having a marvelous time. She’d danced twice, though not with him. He probably should have asked but to be honest, his dancing skills were not quite good enough for public display.

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Jeremy turned, expecting that the duke had returned to plague him.

  But it was Lord Wilks’ smirking countenance in front of him instead. “She’s a lovely sight, isn’t she?”

  “Who?”

  “You know who. Lady Rivers is quite remarkable.”

  Jeremy had taken an immediate dislike to Wilks and it wasn’t because he was three sheets to the wind already. There was just something decidedly too slick and false about his laugh to make Jeremy feel he was entirely trustworthy. “Yes, she is indeed,” Jeremy murmured.

  “Tell me, do you have to follow all her orders—I’m sorry, stage directions—like a pampered pug on a leash or does she let you be a man and take charge of her on occasion?”

  Jeremy stared at the fellow in shock and not a little revulsion, too. “What nonsense are you talking about?”

  “Oh, come now. You did well to convince her to sponsor your fledgling career on the stage, but surely you could have asked for much more than a token payment of a hundred pounds. You’re pretending to be in love with her and deserve a higher compensation. She’d never have felt the pinch.” Wilks threw his arm over Jeremy’s shoulder. “I can help you squeeze more blunt out of her, for a modest fee, of course.”

  Jeremy was appalled at the suggestion but tried to keep his shock off his face. He threw Wilks’ arm from his shoulders and faced the drunkard. How could Wilks have deduced their arrangement in one half day? He’d arrived barely in time for the nuptials, unless…

  Unless he’d been given the agreement to read since the marriage had taken place.

  Jeremy swore under his breath as he took in Wilks’ smug countenance. Had Lord Thwaite stolen Jeremy’s employment agreement from Fanny’s chambers and shared the contents with his drunkard of a son? Obviously, Wilks intended to use that information to line his own pocket, too.

  He glanced across the chamber, only to see Fanny slipping from the ballroom with her sisters in tow. There was no way he could warn her. The bride was about to head off to her new home, if he remembered correctly. It was the perfect moment for Wilks to approach him, when everyone’s attention was diverted to the other side of the ballroom.

  Jeremy steadied his temper. He couldn’t become flustered over the conversation. He intended to get that piece of paper back to Fanny tonight.

  Wilks patted his pocket. “I could certainly make it worth your while to reconsider where your loyalties lie.”

  Jeremy’s eyes narrowed on Wilks. The contract was in his pocket, right in front of him.

  He had vowed not to waste this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but his loyalty was to Fanny, not his own pocket. He smiled quickly, playing along with the fellow’s scheme to make him seem amenable. “How much should I have asked for?”

  “Meet me tomorrow in the orchard at noon, and we can discuss it,” Wilks advised with another smirk.

  Three booming rings from a staff upon the parquetry floor and Jeremy turned toward the sound. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Earl and Countess of Rafferty are taking their leave.”

  People applauded, and then surged toward the entrance hall to see the newlyweds off.

  Jeremy was bumped hard in the rush to reach the doorway first, falling conveniently against Wilks. The man threw him off—but not before Jeremy had checked inside his coat pockets and lifted a paper he found there.

  It felt about the same size as the brief contract he’s signed. He had no time to check though. Jeremy palmed it as he righted himself, apologizing profusely, while he quickly flicked it up his coat sleeve and followed everyone else out the door.

  Jeremy winced. His scandalous past had come in handy for his new role twice now. It would be the last time, too.

  He followed everyone outside into the gathering gloom, suppressing the instinct to slip into the shadows to check what he’d pinched from Lord Wilks to make sure he had Fanny’s property.

  Fanny was down on the driveway by the carriage, surrounded by her family, dabbing at her eyes, brushing aside happy tears—at least he hoped they were happy. He’d noticed she seemed to cry all sorts of tears. He found that confusing, but he had a handkerchief ready in his hand in case it was needed.

  The wedding guests gathered on the steps together as groom and blushing bride climbed into the carriage and finally drove away toward Lord Rafferty’s home.

  Fanny and Lord Thwaite fell into step on their way back inside. Thwaite was wearing a pleased expression, and he whispered something to Fanny that made her laugh. But she was quickly drawn away by the duchess and her remaining sister and swept into the house.

  Jeremy put his hand to his coat pocket, returning his handkerchief.

  The man in front of him turned about abruptly, and he found himself staring straight into Wilks’ eyes again.

  The fellow touched his pocket, and his eyes narrowed as he searched for something that was no longer in his possession. “What did you put in your coat pocket?” he demanded.

  “What, my handkerchief?”

  Wilks checked his own pockets again and then turned a furious glare at Jeremy. “Show me.”

  “It’s just a handkerchief,” he promised, revealing it. “You can have it if you require one.”

  But Wilks grabbed him roughly and tried to search Jeremy’s coat pockets. Jeremy p
rotested at the rough treatment as much as the stink of spirits on Wilks’ breath, loudly.

  “Get off me.” Jeremy threw an arm out, connecting his fist with Wilks’ jaw accidentally.

  Wilks stumbled back a step, but he wasn’t giving up. “Give it back!”

  “What the hell is this?” Stapleton barked, stepping between them. “Gentlemen, control yourselves.”

  It took Lord Milo and Lord Samuel to hold Wilks back from attacking Jeremy again. Wilks pointed at Jeremy, accusing, “He has something of mine. I am sure of it.”

  Jeremy straightened his coat, checking the note was still safe up his shirt sleeve. “I have nothing belonging to you.” But he had something belonging to Fanny, and he did not want to reveal it here.

  The duke folded his arms across his chest and looked between them. “An accusation of theft is a serious matter. What is it you think he’s taken?”

  “I have no idea, your grace,” Jeremy promised. “He’s cup shot.”

  “Am not! That man has something of great value to me,” Wilks insisted. But he looked around, taking note of their audience with blinking eyes. He straightened his coat and smoothed his hair, but since he could hardly stand still anymore, he gave credence to Jeremy’s accusation that he didn’t know what he was talking about. “I cannot say what it is but it is vital it is returned to me tonight,” Wilks insisted. “Who is he, anyway? Just an actor.”

  “He is a guest,” Stapleton noted. “Just as you are tonight.”

  Jeremy approached the duke, stopping as close to his side as he dared. He managed to drop the folded contract into Stapleton’s gaping coat pocket without him realizing it. “I don’t have anything that belongs to him, I swear.”

  The duke’s eyes narrowed on Wilks. “An accusation of theft can be resolved easily right now. Mr. Dawes, would you have any objection to being searched a second time with substantially more dignity?”

  Jeremy had nothing to hide anymore. “I have no objection.”