The Earl Takes a Fancy

by Lorraine Heath

  Dragging his mouth along her throat, he growled low. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself. I’m going to peel off your clothes layer by layer—”

  “Oh yes.” Her words released on a moan seemed to incite him further.

  “I’m going to lick every inch of your skin.”

  “And I yours.”

  “Every inch?”

  “Every inch.”

  With a tortured-sounding groan, he pressed his forehead to hers. “I wonder if we have time to go upstairs before breakfast.”

  Family and close friends would soon be arriving for the wedding breakfast. That list had been small. They couldn’t prevent anyone and everyone from attending the church ceremony, but Fancy had wanted what followed to be more intimate, so her mum would be comfortable in the surroundings. “Will you be able to put me back together, so I don’t look as though I’ve been ravished?”

  “Absolutely not. Besides, where’s the harm in being ravished on your wedding day?”

  “We could just do it here. Save us some time.”

  “I do hope you’re not considering what I think you’re considering,” a sharp voice stated succinctly from the doorway.

  With a grunt, without taking his arm from around her, creating the image of a united front, Matthew turned to face his sister. “Sylvie.”

  “Your guests are arriving. You should be in the foyer to greet them.” Quickly, she crossed over and gave Fancy a glancing kiss over her cheek. “You look lovely, m’dear. It was obvious to all sitting in that church that you’ve made Matthew exceedingly happy. With my help, you’ll soon be embraced and loved by all.”

  “I’m happy enough that you’ve accepted me. As for the others—”

  “Posh. You shall have it all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to dash off and make sure all is ready for the breakfast.” She’d taken charge of arranging it.

  After she’d disappeared into the hallway, Fancy said, “I like your sister.”

  “She likes you.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “I suppose we’d best greet the others.”

  Rising up on her toes, she kissed the underside of his jaw. “Mmm. But later, you’re going to be all mine.”

  The breakfast had gone on for what seemed hours. Everyone offering their wishes, enjoying a scrumptious assortment of food, visiting, laughing. Matthew had taken Fancy and her mum on a tour of the house. Halfway through, her mum had started to cry.

  “I’d always dreamed of you living in a posh house, but caw, not this posh. It’s more than I could have ever dreamed for you.”

  How could she explain to her mum that the house meant little to her? It was the man who made her heart sing, the man who was important. Having Matthew was all that truly mattered.

  “You can come live with us,” Fancy told her.

  “Ah, no, ducky. This place isn’t for me.”

  “But you will come visit.”

  “Yes, love.”

  She’d extracted the same promise from each of her siblings as they look their leave with their families and friends. Until finally, it was only she and Matthew who remained in Rosemont House.

  Now as she stood in her bedchamber, she thought she shouldn’t be so nervous. After all, it was Matthew who had led her in here and closed the door. It was simply the thought of so many dreams realized. Not only hers. But her family’s as well.

  “It’s customary for a husband to give his wife jewelry on the day they marry,” he said as he ambled over to a vanity, picked up a long, slender black velvet box, and extended it toward her. Inside had to be a necklace, but one so large that it would dwarf her. Still she would wear it every day for the remainder of her life.

  “I don’t want us doing things because it’s customary. I want us doing things because we want to do them.”

  “I want to give you this.”

  She opened the hinged lid and stared at the scrolled vellum. As she lifted it out, he took the box from her. She unrolled her gift and read the words, surprised, pleased . . . overjoyed. If it meant what she thought it meant. “It’s a deed to a property. The address is—” She looked up at him, her brow furrowed. “It’s the bookshop.”

  “Your brother is a hard bargainer.”

  “You purchased it?”

  “I did. In your name.” He shook his head. “The law will say it’s mine, but it’s yours. I have Lassiter working to find a way to circumvent the law so no matter what happens, the property is seen as belonging to you. Do with it as you will.”

  Tears burned her eyes. “You know me so well. There is no gift I would have treasured more. I won’t spend all my time there.”

  “I shall hope not. You’ll need to host dinners and such in order to convince people to donate to your efforts to teach adults to read.”

  Smiling brightly, she pressed the scroll to her chest. “I own my own bookshop. Even my eldest brother wouldn’t give me that.” She flung her arms around his neck. “Oh, Matthew, thank you.” She kissed the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.” She kissed his chin. “Thank you.”

  Then their mouths met, and the vellum fluttered to the floor, as passion rose up, hot, bold, and wild.

  “Matthew?”

  “Yes, my love?”

  “I don’t want to wait to have children.”

  Straightening, he cupped her face between his hands and smiled warmly. “I shall endeavor to accommodate your wishes.”

  He kissed one side of her mouth and then the other before settling his lips against hers. When she parted them for him, he slowly, tenderly, mated their tongues, an ancient ritual of dancing and sparring. No rush. No hurry. As though they had all night. As though they had the rest of their lives.

  While she hated to admit it, she’d felt a spark of guilt when they’d come together before, had worried about being a fallen woman. But now she experienced nothing but pure, unadulterated joy. They were legal. Any children she gave birth to would be legal. They would not be looked down upon because of the circumstances of their birth. They would know their father as the good man he was. They would be surrounded by aunts, uncles, and cousins who loved them.

  Without breaking away from the kiss, she began loosening his buttons.

  “Anxious, are you?” he teased against her lips.

  “Very much so. We need to put your deft fingers to work.”

  Chuckling low, he did just that, and in short order, their clothes were strewn about the floor and they were strewn about the bed, a tangle of limbs, bodies gliding and sliding as mouths kissed, bit, and suckled. It seemed impossible that her skin could be more sensitive to his touch, and yet it was, as though it had learned that the movements of his fingers signaled that pleasure was waiting in the wings and would be arriving at any moment.

  “I can’t sleep when you’re not in my bed, in my arms,” he rasped as his tongue laved the peak of her breast.

  “Then you should sleep well tonight.” She nipped at the curve where neck met shoulder, then sucked passionately, knowing she would leave a mark, but wanting some evidence that she was there, and would be again. Night after night. Day after day.

  “My parents slept in separate bedchambers. I don’t want that for us.”

  “Neither do I.” Tossing back the thick waves of her hair, she straddled him. “I’ve waited for you my entire life. Why wouldn’t I want to sleep with you?”

  Spreading his fingers on either side of her face, he brought her down for a kiss, plunging his tongue sure and deep, circling and stroking. Sliding his hands down her back, he pressed her to him, and rolled until she was on bottom, he on top. He gazed down on her with so much love reflected in the green depths of his eyes that she nearly wept. A corner of his mouth hitched up. “Fancy Sommersby.”

  “Today you gave me your name. I gave you my heart.”

  “I think you gave me your heart before.”

  She nodded. “And you gave me my shop.”

  “That’s just the start of everything I’m going to give you.”
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  “I’ve married a man of means.”

  “Considerable means.”

  She gnawed on her lip. “Could you really have purchased all the books in my shop?”

  His smile was one of confidence, and yet there was a boyishness to it, an almost embarrassment. “Every single one.” Lowering himself, he kissed the tip of her nose and lifted himself back up. “So I know you didn’t marry me for my fortune. And you didn’t fall in love with me because of my title.”

  “If I list all the reasons I fell in love with you, Matthew Sommersby”—she tilted up her hips—“we may never get to the fun part.”

  “I love you.”

  She would never tire of hearing those three words, nor of giving them back. “I love you.”

  As he claimed her mouth, the teasing vanished, replaced by an urgency as sensations began to sweep through her. As he pushed into her, filled her, she wrapped her legs around his hips and held on as he rode her with a ferocity that matched her own desires. The world faded away until it was only them, the two of them, locked in a passionate embrace, hurtling toward the storm that would erupt in ecstasy.

  And when it came, they were flung through the tempest together, both crying out with the strength of their release.

  When she came back into herself, sated and replete, she whispered, “I love you.”

  The words came back to her in a deep and lethargic voice.

  Smiling, she let sleep take her.

  The following morning, as the carriage carried them away from the residence, Fancy nestled up against Matthew’s side. It was her favorite place to be.

  Their trunks had been carted to the docks earlier for loading onto the ship, and soon they’d be in Calais for their wedding trip.

  “Content, Fancy?”

  “Very. I think you may have gotten me with child.”

  He laughed. “Sometimes it can take a while.”

  “I want to give you your heir.”

  “I would be happy with a girl, especially if she favored her mother in looks and temperament.”

  “I suppose we could have one of each.”

  “Eventually, I suspect we’ll have several of each.” Tucking his finger beneath her chin, he tilted up her face and brushed a kiss over her lips. “I can’t resist you.”

  “I hope that holds until we are old.”

  “I don’t see why it won’t.”

  Straightening, she glanced out the window at the unfamiliar scenery, the absence of buildings. “Matthew, I thought we were heading to the docks.”

  “No, our vessel is waiting for us elsewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “At England’s edge, near Dover.”

  “I’d not expected that.”

  “It’s the best place for us to depart.”

  “I’ll take your word for that as I’m so untraveled.”

  Leaning in, he nipped her ear. “Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

  She had no doubt of that because he would be with her.

  After all the excitement from the day before, she must have been more tired than she realized, wasn’t even aware of drifting off, but suddenly Matthew was nudging her shoulder. “We’re here, sweetheart.”

  Covering her mouth, with a yawn, she straightened away from him. “Sorry.”

  “You’ve nothing for which to apologize.”

  The carriage had come to a stop. He opened the door, leapt out, and reached back for her, handing her down. And that was when she got her first real look at where they were. She could see green and cliffs and nothing else save—

  “That’s not for us, surely.”

  “It’s for you,” he said, his voice thrumming with excitement. “It’s our vessel.”

  In wonder, she stared at the hot air balloon.

  So many times, before she knew of his title, he’d thought of taking her in a balloon, but had wondered how to explain a common man having access to such a remarkable creation.

  “We’re taking this to Calais?” she asked, hesitantly.

  “We are.”

  “Across the sea?”

  “That is where we’ll find Calais.”

  She turned to him. “What of our trunks?”

  Trust a woman to worry over her clothing, not that he planned for her to be wearing much once they were settled in the cottage he’d let. “They’re on the ship, and Jenkins will see them delivered to us in Calais.”

  “You present me with the most wonderful surprises.”

  He could say the same of her, as she leapt at him, flung her arms around him, and kissed him with exuberance. Making her happy had become his favorite thing to do, and it was so easy.

  Stepping back, she smiled brightly. “Oh, what a grand adventure this is going to be. Shall we give it a go?”

  He introduced her to Mr. Green, the balloonist and pilot, who he’d flown with before and trusted to get them to their destination. Then he lifted Fancy up, settled her in the gondola, and joined her.

  “Oh, this is wonderful,” she exclaimed a few minutes later. “So much better than flying the kite.”

  He couldn’t disagree with her assessment, not when her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist as she peered out over the gondola’s edge at the rapidly receding ground. Soon they were floating out over the sea, leaving England behind.

  She looked up at him. “You spoil me.”

  “Whenever possible.”

  If he were skilled at working the mechanics that kept the gas filling the silk balloon so they stayed aloft, he might have dispensed with having the balloonist in the gondola with them. But it was more important they have a safe journey, even if they had company.

  Gently Matthew turned Fancy around and held her gaze. “Whenever I’m with you, Fancy, this is how I feel. As though I’m floating on air.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her tenderly but thoroughly while the nearby clouds looked on.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  Fancy walked gingerly amidst the debris scattered over the ground. Erecting buildings was such a terribly messy business, although she did enjoy the scenery, especially when it was her husband walking about shouting orders, overseeing the construction. He’d taken a personal interest in ensuring all was done to her specifications. The building was a gift to her, would be a gift to a good many others. When finished, it would be a school where classes would be held for adults during the day and at night. Not only reading and writing would be taught, but other skills as well, skills that might lead to jobs with better working conditions.

  She found it incredible when she thought of all that had transpired over the past few months. She and Matthew spent most of their time in London, occasionally visiting his country estate when he needed to check on matters. She loved the time spent at the estate but was always anxious to return to Town so she could pop into the bookshop easily to ensure that Marianne—now Mrs. Tittlefitz—was having no issues with the shop or customers. She was doing a splendid job of running things. Business was increasing, and they’d hired two additional staff members to assist her.

  Fancy had hosted her first ball, and all had gone well. She was accepted by most of the aristocracy, in part due to her marriage to such a fine and respected earl. Lord Beresford had made it clear that he was at fault when it came to what transpired in the library. Lady Penelope’s friendship had also gone a long way to seeing her accepted. The woman she’d first judged as being flighty had turned out to be far more cunning than anyone gave her credit for.

  Especially when it came to raising funds for charitable endeavors. She and Fancy had begun hosting readings—some done by the authors themselves, some by actors. The fee they collected from people who attended was used for the lending library or classes.

  Matthew caught sight of her, scowled, and began trudging toward her. She did so love watching the way he moved.

  “You shouldn’t be here. Not in your condition.”

  With a smile, she ran her finger along h
is bristled jaw. “I still have two months yet before this little one is to arrive, and I was walking carefully.”

  He sighed. “You are such a stubborn minx.”

  “You love me for it.”

  “I love you for a thousand reasons.”

  He demonstrated his love every day, every night. She looked over at the building. “It’s coming along nicely.”

  “They should be finished by the end of the month. You’ll want to start interviewing for your teachers and staff.”

  “I’ve decided to hire someone to watch children while the mothers have lessons. I suspect there are many women who can’t come because they have little ones to look after.”

  “We can do something with the back garden, so the children have a place to play, run about.”

  “I knew you’d embrace the notion, come up with an idea for improving it. Now if I can just decide what to call it.”

  “I had an idea this morning. What do you think of the Fancy Center for Adult Learning? No apostrophe S. A play on your name.”

  “That makes it sound as though it’s all mine, when it’s really ours. What do you say to the Rosemont Center for Adult Learning?”

  “I say I’d like very much to kiss you, Lady Rosemont.”

  “I do wish you would, Lord Rosemont.”

  And he did.

  Author’s Notes

  The primer in this era contained the fairy tale of Cinderella, but it was spelled Cinderilla. It was only later that the spelling became Cinderella.

  In addition, Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies does not contain an apostrophe as originally printed.

  It was not until the passage of the Women’s Property Act of 1882 that married women were allowed to own and control property.

  Boating was an extremely popular pastime during the Victorian era. One company in particular set up stations along the Thames where people could lease rowboats and punts. They could then travel upriver, disembark at another station, and be returned to their original starting point.