Moving past her slightly, he went down a step and then lowered himself to one knee and took her hand. “Miss Trewlove, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
“I have a scandalous reputation, my lord.”
He pressed a kiss to her gloved hand. “Then you’re perfect.”
She laughed as joy filled her heart, her soul. “I love you, Matthew. Yes, yes, I want to be your wife.”
Shoving himself to his feet, he cupped her face between his hands. “Now they can’t object.”
And he claimed her mouth, her heart, her soul, there on the stairs, while the London elite looked on. Scandalous, a kiss such as this, so deep, so thorough, with her arms intertwining around his neck and his around her back, bringing her in so close that light couldn’t make its way between them. He tasted as she remembered, rich and dark, decadent.
When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead to hers. “I think a waltz is in order.”
Taking her hand, he escorted her down the stairs where the marquess and marchioness waited. When she would have curtsied, he stayed her actions with his palm gently placed on her back. “Fairhaven, Sylvie, I believe you’ve met Miss Trewlove.”
“Indeed we have.” Placing her hands on Fancy’s shoulders, she leaned in and bussed a quick kiss over her cheeks. “It seems congratulations are in order. I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to see Rosemont looking so happy. And even more thrilled that such a public proposal was issued at my ball. My affair shall be the talk of the ton.”
Matthew said something low to Fairhaven and with a nod, he walked off. Then Matthew leaned toward Fancy. “There is nothing my sister likes more than being the center of attention.”
“Oh, there are things I like more but they are best seen to behind closed doors.” She tapped her fan against Fancy’s arm. “Whenever Rosemont visited of late, he always mentioned you. I can see why. It seems you’ve thoroughly enamored him.”
“It is he who has enamored me.”
The lilting strains of a tune started up. “The Fairy Wedding Waltz.”
“If you’ll excuse us, Sylvie, my betrothed is in need of a waltz.”
As he was escorting her to the dance floor, three flaxen-haired misses stepped in front of them. Lady Penelope hugged her. “We’re so happy for you, Miss Trewlove.”
“The proposal was so romantic.” Lady Victoria waved her fan as though the very thought of it warmed her.
“I daresay, proposals in the garden are going to go by the wayside,” Lady Alexandria said. “I won’t settle for anything less than a public proposal in a ballroom.”
“I hope you all receive proposals very soon, but only from gentlemen you love.”
The ladies giggled and waved as Matthew offered their excuses before leading her onto the dance floor, taking her in his arms, and sweeping her over the polished parquet.
“I don’t know if I’ll get used to hearing you referred to as Rosemont,” she told him.
“I love you, Fancy. Call me anything you like.”
“Whenever I attended a ball, I imagined you being there, waltzing with me. You’re everything I ever dreamed of wanting.”
“Don’t stop dreaming, Fancy. For I intend to help you realize all your dreams.”
She had an entire list, although she suspected he knew most of them and would guess the rest. They’d always been so attuned to each other.
She wished her mum had been here tonight, but she would tell her all about it in the morning. For now, she became lost in the music, the movement, the eyes of the man she loved.
Beresford studied his cards, fighting not to groan and alert everyone that his luck continued to be ghastly. He was still struggling with the fact that Fancy Trewlove had preferred scandal to marriage. The moment he’d heard of her incredible dowry, he’d set his sights on acquiring her as a wife. He hadn’t cared about her lack of a pedigree. He’d cared only about the coins she’d put in his coffers. Year after year. That she was interesting, gracious, and comely had been a boon. Even more so was the fact that he enjoyed her company. He didn’t know if he would have ever come to love her—his mistress had held his heart for years now—but he’d already developed a bit of affection for her. He certainly would have worked to ensure she never regretted marrying him.
He shouldn’t have arranged to be caught in a compromising situation, but he’d panicked when he saw how much attention she was garnering from other lords. And then when Rosemont—a man presently outside of social events—had implied a knowledge of her, Beresford had decided action was needed. Because if or when Rosemont returned to Society, he couldn’t compete with the man, not when half the ladies of London were going on and on about the damned letter his wife had written. It had been bad enough listening to his sisters wax on about it, hearing them sighing over the earl.
So he’d made an error in judgment, tried to force Miss Trewlove into accepting him. The devil of it was that her rejection had only served to make him respect and want her all the more. He wondered if he would stand any chance at all with her if he courted her properly. Of course, now she was not only tainted by her birth, but by scandal. Even if he was the reason behind the scandal—
“Stand up, Beresford.”
The whispered words carried enough venom to paralyze him. It took him several heartbeats to recover. When he finally did, he glanced up to find Rosemont glaring at him with an intensity that sent a cold shiver of dread racing up his spine. “Why?”
“Because I never strike a man when he’s sitting.”
“And why would you want to do that, old chap?” Although he had the unsettling thought that he knew.
“To defend Miss Trewlove’s honor. I know you sought to take advantage of her, and I require satisfaction for my betrothed.”
“You’re going to marry her?”
“I am.”
Beresford glanced around. No smiles greeted him. Only somber faces and hard stares. He’d not been discreet enough with his plans. There was no hope for it. He was going to have to take his punishment like a man or lose the respect of his peers. Shoving back his chair, he stood and tugged on his waistcoat. “I’d appreciate it if you’d avoid the nose. I have a rather fine no—”
The blow hit it directly, causing blood to spurt and his eyes to water, and sent him staggering down to the floor. Scrambling for a linen, he finally located it in his pocket, pressed it to his nose, and glared at Rosemont. “I do hope you’re satisfied.”
“I am. I’ll send you an invitation to the wedding.”
The bugger probably would.
Chapter 27
The next afternoon, Fancy sat in Aslyn’s parlor watching as her hostess prepared yet another cup of tea for her—her third since her arrival. Matthew had been impatient to get her siblings’ blessings. Earlier they’d shared a midday meal with her mother and gained hers. But he’d understood the importance of acquiring everyone’s blessing. When they’d arrived at Mick’s office, missives had been sent out to the others. Matthew and Mick were together in his office now, although surely everyone else had arrived by now.
“Don’t look so nervous,” Aslyn said as she passed her the saucer and cup of tea. “I’m certain Lord Rosemont will receive a blessing to marry you from each of your siblings.”
“It doesn’t matter if he does or not. I’m going to marry him.”
Aslyn smiled. “Good for you.”
“I just don’t know what’s taking so long.”
“I’m sure they’re putting him through his paces.”
“The only thing of any consequence is that he loves me.”
“And you him.”
She smiled. “I do, Aslyn. So very much.”
“I’m going to assume Lord Beresford was not the first gentleman you might have spent time with, without benefit of a chaperone.”
She studied the elaborate rose pattern on the delicate china cup. “No.”
“Mick kissed me before we were married.”
She snapped up h
er head. “Oh, I knew that.” She arched a brow. “Possibly more than a kiss?”
“A lady never tells.”
She supposed not, although it certainly was tempting to share everything with Aslyn, to let her know how wonderful Matthew was. She glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Whatever can be keeping them? It’s been two hours. They should all be here by now. Matthew should have asked for their blessing, they should have said yes, and someone should be coming for me.”
“It takes time.”
“Not this much time. I’ve no doubt they’re making it difficult for him.” She leapt up from her place. “Well, I’m not standing for that.”
Turning on her heel, she headed for the door.
“Fancy!”
“I won’t be long.”
Once in the hallway, she crossed over to Mick’s offices. Mr. Tittlefitz immediately came to his feet. “Miss Trewlove.”
“Mr. Tittlefitz. I assume they’re all still in there?”
“Yes, miss.”
“As it’s my future they’re discussing, I don’t think they’ll mind my popping in.” She reached for the door and jerked slightly when it opened without her pushing on it. She stared at the man who it appeared was striving to take his leave. “Mr. Lassiter.”
“Miss Trewlove.”
“What in heaven’s name are you doing here?”
Matthew appeared in the doorway, edged passed Lassiter, and settled a hand on her waist. “He’s my solicitor. I wanted to get the settlement agreed to as I intend to get a special license and marry you as quickly as possible.”
“Your solicitor.” Turning into Matthew, she wound her arms around his neck. “You wouldn’t also happen to go by the name anonymous, would you?”
“I have many clients, Miss Trewlove,” Mr. Lassiter said.
“I’m sure you do.”
“It’s all right, Lassiter. A man shouldn’t keep secrets from his betrothed.”
“You got their blessings?”
“I did. Each and every one of them.”
She gave him her sauciest smile. “Matthew Sommersby, are there any other names you go by that I should know about?”
“The man who will always love you.”
Rising up on her toes, she captured his mouth, not caring one whit that they had an audience.
Three weeks later, Fancy stood in the vestibule beside Beast, waiting rather impatiently as her brothers and brother-by-marriage escorted their wives to their places on the first pew, where her mother was already seated. Fancy was excited, thrilled, anticipating the day, anticipating life. The church was packed to the rafters.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Beast said quietly, with teasing lacing his voice.
With a small laugh, she looked up at him. “Oh yes, I do. I love him so much, Beast. I’ve never been happier.”
“That much is obvious, sweetheart.”
Her brothers strode back up the aisle, all so handsome and confident, not at all intimidated by those filling the pews: the earls, marquesses, dukes, countesses, marchionesses, duchesses. But then why should they be when their family was slowly expanding to include so many of them? When they reached her, they each gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek.
“Ready?” Mick asked.
She smiled brightly. “Absolutely.”
“No doubts?” Aiden asked.
“None whatsoever.”
“You’ve not known him long.” Finn, who had met his love when he was barely a man, gave voice to his worries.
“I’ve known him long enough.”
Beast, having already said his piece, merely gave her a nod and a warm smile.
“Can we get going?” she asked. “I’m anxious to begin the remainder of my life.”
Mick offered his arm, and she took it. Then he gave a signal and the organist began playing her favorite waltz. It wasn’t traditional, but it was special to her and Matthew.
Mick started leading her down the aisle, her other brothers following. Out of the corners of her eyes she was aware of people standing, but her entire focus was on the man at the altar waiting for her. It brought tears to her eyes to see so much love reflected in the green of his. He was so frightfully handsome in his gray trousers, white waistcoat, and navy coat. When they were near enough, he winked at her.
“Who gives this woman away?” echoed through the church.
“Her brothers,” Mick responded, and then he was placing her hand in Matthew’s, and she thought it had never looked as though it belonged anyplace more.
Matthew seemed unable to recall a single moment of his first wedding, but knew he’d never forget a single second of this one. The other had been a chore, a test of his willingness to endure an unpleasant task. Today none of his thoughts centered around himself. They were all focused on Fancy and ensuring he gave her a day of fond memories—not necessarily to see her through to old age because he planned to give her a good many more before then. But he did want their public commitment to each other to hold a special place in her heart. He didn’t know if his voice had ever sounded more clear, more sure, so strong as it did now while he recited his vows. She was all that mattered. And he’d nearly lost her.
Never again would he doubt, never again would he hesitate. Where she was concerned, he’d always trust his instincts.
She was lovely in her frothy white gown with its wisps of lace and tulle that reminded him very much of a confection, but beneath it all was a woman of steel and determination. When he placed the ring on her finger, he’d never been more sure of anything. She was his, and he was hers.
Then he was leading her down the aisle to begin their life together as man and wife, earl and countess, lord and lady.
After signing the registry in the vestry, Fancy and Matthew fairly dashed to the white open carriage with the four white horses waiting for them. Once they were seated, they began waving at the crowd exiting the church. The driver set the vehicle in motion at a rather slow pace. When the church was no longer visible, Matthew slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Hello, Lady Rosemont.”
Then he took her mouth as though he owned it. She never wanted to stop kissing him. She ran her fingers up into his hair, knocking off his black top hat. He didn’t seem to care that it might have landed in the street, as he groaned low and took the kiss deeper. It was so wonderful to finally have this again. They’d taken a respite from each other in order to build the anticipation for the wedding night. He wouldn’t be taking her virginity, but she still wanted it to be memorable, and so they’d abstained.
Now he was hers. Completely. Absolutely. Unquestionably.
They were traveling to his Mayfair residence, Rosemont House. He’d offered to take her to it before, to show it to her, but she’d preferred to wait, so everything today would be an introduction to her new life. Besides, she was aware that a good many brides didn’t see their homes until after they were wed.
The carriage turned through the open wrought-iron gates onto a long tree-lined drive that circled around in front of a massive manor house.
“Welcome home, Lady Rosemont.”
With a smile, she glanced over at her husband. “It’s beautiful.”
“You can change anything you want inside or with the gardens. Could probably have your brother change the façade if you don’t like it.”
“I love it.” The rich history of it. He had a past here that encompassed those who had come before him. Their children would know that past.
The driver brought the carriage to a halt. Matthew reached down to the floor and retrieved his hat before disembarking. Reaching back, he handed her down and bussed a quick kiss over her lips before tucking her hand in the crook of his arm and turning toward the broad steps. As he led her toward them, the wide wooden door opened, and the butler stepped out. Based on his clothing, she assumed he was the butler. She recognized him.
Still she waited until they reached the top of the steps, in order to see him more clearly and to confirm her suspicio
ns.
“My lord, my lady,” he said with the voice that had once wafted through her shop.
“Jenkins,” Matthew said. “Fancy, our butler.”
“Mr. Jenkins.”
“Just Jenkins, if it pleases you, my lady. The staff are queued up to make your acquaintance.”
But before that, she had something else to say. “You made a visit to my shop.”
He darted a glance to Matthew before once more meeting her gaze. “Yes, my lady.”
She squeezed Matthew’s arm as she searched his beloved face. “The book of Shakespeare’s plays was from you,” she said softly, in awe, delighted that her husband blushed. “Wherever did you find it?”
“In our library.”
Our. Everything with him had become our. Although it hadn’t been our at the time. “Why give it to me?”
“I thought it would find a place in your heart.” She recalled telling him that she didn’t worry about people returning books for that reason. “And it just seemed it should belong to you. You’re going to take delight in our library.”
She most certainly did. He escorted her to the grand room right after she was introduced to all the servants who had been lined up in the foyer waiting to meet the new Countess of Rosemont. Books, books, books. Everywhere she looked. Walls of books. Floors of books.
“Have you any idea how many are here?” she asked.
“No. We should probably have them catalogued.”
“Indeed. I’ll get the staff started on it immediately.”
Snaking his arm around her waist, he drew her near. “Not until after we return from our wedding trip.”
They were spending the night here. Tomorrow they would leave for Calais.
He lowered his mouth to hers, and she was glad he’d passed his hat and gloves off to Jenkins, so her fingers had the freedom to muss his hair without running into any obstacles. While she’d been imagining them settled comfortably into one of the various seating nooks in this room and reading in the evening, she’d also begun considering how lovely it would be to make love among the books. On the desk, on the various settees, standing against a shelf, her fingers caressing leather spines while he caused wild sensations to riot through her.
The Earl Takes a Fancy Page 31