A Family Affair (3 page)

Fanny bit back a smile as her brother gave their mother a sad look worthy of a puppy. But their mother had a heart of stone when it came to her children and puppy-faces. She had seen too many to even consider changing her mind.

“I can go by myself, if it’s all right with you. I do need to sit down for a little while, as I am feeling quite warm. As I understand, the dancing is about to begin, and I need to cool down a little first.”

“You go ahead, my dear.” Caroline patted her daughter’s curly hair, and with a last loving look Fanny went eagerly away.

She tried to walk in a ladylike manner through the ballroom and not skip or run as the hellion her mother accused her of being, but her heart sang with joy. Finally she was here, taking part in the social life her family had attended without her every year during her childhood.

Her grandparents had always made sure she had a wonderful time during those short months of the Season while the rest of the family danced in London, but she had still missed them immensely.

Listening to her family’s colorful stories about life among the
ton,
she had been desperate to see it for herself, and now she finally was here.

And even though she didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself, she couldn’t help feeling a little extra excited over Devlin being in town during her first season. She knew his promise to her thirteen years ago wasn’t something he was about to keep, as it had been made to a small child out of kindness.

But still.

He was in town. She was eighteen. Something was bound to happen. And even if it didn’t, she was just the person to stir the pot a little.

Chapter 2

She could hardly believe such rotten luck.

When Fanny arrived at the plush ladies’ restroom, she had to her relief found it empty. With a deep sigh, she sank down into one of the red chairs and rescued her aching feet from their temporary prisons.

But the chatter of voices approaching disrupted her solitude, and Fanny groaned aloud as she realized she knew one of those voices too well.

Just the thought of having to spend time listening to Charmaine and her evil drivel seemed a fate worse than death to Fanny, and without hesitation she grabbed her shoes and dashed out through the open balcony door. Hidden behind one of the Roman pillars gracing the terrace, she watched as Charmaine floated into the restroom, closely followed by her two worshipers, Lady Victoria Knightley and Miss Emma Archer.

The two friends fussed about Charmaine, helping her with her hair, giving her cool wet towels, and acting more as maids than as best friends.

Fanny cursed as she stood there in the darkness of the terrace. What stroke of bad luck had hit her? The threesome in the restroom showed no need of hurrying with their business. Instead they sat down and sipped the lemonade they’d brought with them.

She didn’t know what to do. She was in a really awkward position. Young ladies didn’t go out on the terrace alone; it was against all good etiquette. She knew her mother would be vexed if she ever heard of her daughter’s outrageous behavior.

But the other scenario was even worse: joining the threesome in the restroom.

To face Charmaine and her worshipers, to be forced to answer their questions about what she had been doing out on the terrace, of all places, wasn’t the best idea. Fanny knew the threesome wouldn’t rest until they had dragged the truth out of her, and although she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, it would be too easy for Charmaine to sow a little seed of doubt about Fanny’s actions in any conversation thereafter.

In the end, her choice wasn’t too difficult. She decided to stay put behind the pillar, trying not to breathe too loudly.

There were others strolling slowly on the terrace, and some even went down into the darkness of the lawn. But they were all outside the ballroom, where lights were lit. No one seemed to notice her standing in the shadows farther along, and she could only hope she would be safe.

At first, being occupied with her thoughts, she didn’t listen to the conversation inside the restroom. It wasn’t until she heard her own name mentioned that her interest was caught.

“Lady Francesca’s dress was so beautiful,” Emma said with honest awe in her voice. “I never would have come up with such a lovely idea as putting lilies in my hair as she did, but it was surprisingly fetching.”

Victoria agreed. “It was pretty, indeed. I wonder if I should go to our orangery and steal some of Mama’s prize-winning roses. I think they would look really good against my complexion.”

Emma started to agree with Victoria but was rudely interrupted by Charmaine.

“I found it vulgar,” she snapped, and Fanny had to bite her lip hard so she wouldn’t propel herself onto the minx and rearrange her.

Unaware of the indignant audience on the balcony, Charmaine continued, “Fanny should think about how easily she looks cheap before she goes out and ransacks her family’s greenhouse. One would think a family known for their vast fortune would be able to spend quite a large sum to make sure she looks as good as possible. It all makes one wonder why they don’t. They are practically forcing poor Fanny to go clad in greenery. In my opinion, they probably think of her as a lost cause.”

Emma and Victoria glanced insecurely at each other, but obviously neither had the spine to contradict the envious words. They had both found her outfit fresh and stylish, apparently, yet neither dared to contradict Charmaine.

“Vulgar, indeed,” Victoria echoed lamely, in an effort to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Money can’t buy beauty, and Lady Francesca Darling is a perfect example of that adage.”

And yet I’ve gotten plenty of suitors on my dance card this evening,
Fanny wanted to holler, but she managed to stay quiet. The mendacious minx! she thought, full of resentment over Charmaine’s harsh words.

So what if she wasn’t a beauty of the first or even the second water? It didn’t mean she wasn’t attractive at all. She knew she was somewhat pleasing to look upon, even pretty, in the right light.

She would never stun a man with her beauty alone, but she wouldn’t want a husband who was that shallow anyway. She much preferred a man who wanted her for her wit and her heart than for her beauty or her dowry.

Charmaine must have shared the same thought. “It must be so hard for her, being the richest heiress of all time and still outdone by the sheer beauty of others.”

The two worshippers looked like two parrots, as they bobbed their heads in agreement.

“I even saw freckles on the bridge of her nose.” Victoria shared her piece of horrid gossip with malicious pleasure.

“Oh, my,” Emma breathed with horror. “How awful for her poor mama.”

“I heard Fanny galloped down Rotten Row the other day, in competition with her brothers, and she actually won!”

Emma nodded. She too was aware of Fanny’s outrageous behavior. “Mama almost fainted when she heard about it. She immediately made me promise I would never do something so unladylike as competing with horses.”

Charmaine, who never could hold a grudge against anyone who told her exactly what she wanted to hear, shook her head.

“It is common knowledge how unhealthy it is for a lady to ride a horse,” she pontificated. “Everyone knows a well-bred lady travels only by carriage, not on horseback, and certainly not without an umbrella protecting her from the sun.”

Fanny, outside on the terrace, was outraged; she could hardly believe her ears. Was this how the talk went regarding her?

What was wrong with riding horses, or having freckles, for goodness’ sake? She happened to like her freckles, and so did her mother. Again, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for these small-minded people who lived only for what others would say about them.

But mostly she pitied Charmaine.
What a sad life she must lead, when she can’t find satisfaction in her own good looks without slandering others.

Fanny had never been envious of Charmaine. She couldn’t stand her, but that was because of the way Charmaine treated everyone, especially her younger sister. She really couldn’t see anything beautiful about Charmaine; all she saw was the ugliness beneath the shiny exterior.

“Did you see Hereford, by any chance?” Charmaine asked her worshipers. Her voice sounded a little too carefully uncaring.

“Why, now you mention it, I didn’t.” Victoria clapped her hands excitedly. “Where on earth could he be? He should be here, making sure everyone knows you are taken.”

Emma giggled happily. “Oh, it’s so exciting; I can’t believe you are being courted by
the
bachelor. It’s like a fairytale come true. The most beautiful maiden meets the most handsome knight.”

“I have to agree with you; we would be a match made in heaven,” Charmaine admitted. “But then, I am born to be society’s leading lady, and so it’s not a surprise he wants to court me.”

“I do hope you have saved a couple of dances for him?”

“Of course not.” Charmaine laughed as if Victoria had said something highly amusing. “As long as I don’t have his ring on my finger, I am not holding a dance for him.” She stood up and walked over to the large mirror beside the door and looked at her image with a satisfied smile. She gently tugged at the edge of her décolletage, forcing her dress down to reveal more of her breasts.

“You do remember I told you not to talk loudly about the courtship?” She frowned as she faced her friends again.

“Oh, yes,” both worshipers promised.

“Although I can’t understand why not.” Victoria pouted. “In my mind, he is an ignorant man if he wants to keep this a secret. You are too beautiful for any man to wait to claim for his own.”

“I know,” Charmaine agreed. “But there is no logic when it comes to men, believe me.”

Without another word, she turned and left the restroom, shadowed by her two friends.

As the door closed behind the three young ladies, Fanny gave a sigh of relief. At last she could re-enter the restroom without being caught in an inappropriate situation.

But just as she left the safety of the pillar, the restroom door opened again, and a new gaggle of ladies came in.

Among them was the hostess. Fanny sighed. Lady Easton was, according to her mother, the worst gossip of the
ton
, other than Fanny’s own Aunt Diana. Being found on the balcony by her ladyship would undoubtedly give Fanny’s loving parents a great deal of grief. As for Fanny herself, she could kiss a good marriage goodbye.

Not that Fanny actually had done anything. What mattered in the eyes of Lady Easton and her entourage was what she
could
have done while beyond the window, something like meeting some young man alone in the darkness.

The ladies showed no signs of hurrying; instead, they sat down, chatting, while their maids straightened their appearances.

Fanny groaned, knowing she was running out of time. Soon her mother would wonder where she was and come in search. Caroline would be most distressed if she didn’t find Fanny where she was supposed to be, and a distressed Caroline was not what Fanny needed.

There was no way she could stay out on the balcony waiting for the ladies to return to the ballroom. But being found out here by Lady Easton and the other hyenas was not an option, so Fanny looked at the terrace doors farther down the building, the ones that led into the ballroom.

They were not too far away—thirty paces, maybe forty. If she was really quick, she would be inside the ballroom in a minute.

But she would have to pass the darkest section of the balcony, and it made her hesitate. Young ladies of the
ton
and secluded darkness were not a good match.

But then, neither were young ladies and balconies.

She put her shoes back on her aching feet and took a deep and uneven breath before she quietly walked toward the other set of doors.

Music strayed from the ballroom, and the soft tones whirled out into the dark garden, filling it with its seductive message. She could hear voices coming from the darker parts of the garden: men mumbling, women laughing softly.

When she reached the terrace doors leading to the ballroom, she realized she hadn’t been breathing at all during her short, brisk walk. That wasn’t surprising; she was such a baby when it came to darkness.

Some deep breaths helped to regain her tranquility and made her heart beat slower.

It was the deep breathing that prevented her from a scream when a hand suddenly emerged from the darkest shadows and grabbed hold of her arm. She was pulled sharply away from the doorway and into the darkness of the balcony, her body slamming against something hard and lean.

Her knees went weak, and if the hand hadn’t still been holding her arm in a firm grip she would have crumpled to the floor.

“Be quiet,” a manly voice whispered, when the air went out of her with a rather loud “ouf.”

His words sliced through her dazed mind, and as soon as she regained some of her wit, she tried to pull her arm loose from his hand.

She was on the point of calling for help when a couple emerged from the shadows of the garden—and she promptly closed her mouth again.

The lady was straightening her dress as she walked briskly toward the doors. She looked ready to kill, and it wasn’t hard to figure out it was the young man trying to catch up with her who was the target of her anger.

Fanny recognized him as one of her most attentive fortune hunters, Nicholas Pembroke. Maybe he wasn’t as attentive as she’d first thought.

As Nicholas disappeared into the ballroom after the woman, Fanny wrenched herself loose from the hands holding her bare arms and turned angrily to face her attacker—and froze.

Her eyes, now adjusted to the darkness of the shadows, had no problem recognizing the man leaning against the cold stone wall, even though she hadn’t seen him for many years.