The Lady Tamed Boyd, Heather (reading list .txt) 📖

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.