Page 13 of What a Widow Wants

“Then I fear I am destined to hear this proposal for the rest of my stay in Brighton, if not for the rest of my life.”

“Nonsense, Fanny.” His smile slipped a bit. “You said you needed to think about it. That was weeks ago. Have you not grown tired of freedom in all this time?”

“Not a bit.” Fanny raised her chin. “I am enjoying myself immensely, as you can see.” The fourth figure began and they parted. Sighing in relief, she smiled at her corner partner as she bowed.

She’d had no idea Matthew would be so persistent. Flattering though it was, she must be cautious. Before she consented to marry again, she must have no doubt whatsoever about the man’s fidelity. Far too soon to tell that about Matthew. They’d only spoken at the ball in June after seven years’ absence. The Matthew of old she knew well; this new one, however, had changes she wasn’t sure she cared for. Like his persistence. He’d not been nearly this demanding of her attention ten years ago at her come-out. If he had been, her life might have been very different indeed.

The quadrille ended and Fanny curtsied to Matthew once more. With due solemnity, he took her hand and led her from the floor. “I fear the dance has been too spritely for us both. I am quite out of breath and your cheeks are as red as the roses I sent you. Perhaps a breath of fresh air will revive us both.”

Before she could protest, he whisked her out through a pair of French doors that led to the formal garden. “You did receive them, did you not?”

“Receive what?” Her head was spinning with the heat and his close proximity. She had never felt so helpless at a man’s touch. Well, except for Stephen.

“The bouquet of hyacinth and roses. Let’s sit by the fountain.” He led her down a short flight of steps to the fountain bubbling at the garden’s center where they sat, quite alone. Bathed in the bright moonlight the ordinary scene suddenly seemed exotic and exciting.

“Yes, I did.” Too breathless. Best not to give him false hope. “I sent you a thank-you note, if you recall.” Fanny pursed her lips and gave herself a mental shake. What was the man about now?

“Ah, yes. This one, I believe.” He withdrew the note she had sent him the morning after the masquerade.

He had kept the three scrawled lines? Her heart beat faster. “Yes.”

Holding the paper to his nose he inhaled deeply. “You still use rose as your perfume, Fanny. It permeates everything around you, even your writing paper.” He leaned toward her, until his lips brushed her ear. “I would know you by that scent even if I were blindfolded.”

Gooseflesh rose on the nape of her neck and she shivered. “Matthew.”

“Fanny, I love you.” He dropped a kiss on her bare skin and she suppressed a moan of longing. “I have ever since we first met. I want no other woman for my countess. Please say you will.”

It would be easy to do. Open her lips and say “yes.” Matthew was a good man who would likely be a good husband to her and a wonderful father to Ella. Unlike Stephen, who’d been away most of his daughter’s life. She hardly knew what a father was.

Just open her mouth . . .

“As I told you before, Matthew, I may never marry again.”

The smiling lines on his face turned hard, brittle in the moonlight. As though his face were a mask that might crack at any minute. “Don’t say that, Fanny.”

“I must say it because it’s true. I made a mistake once. I won’t do it again.” If only she could get her trembling hands under control, she might be able to put more conviction into her words. “I intend to be a little wild and wicked before I even begin to think about marriage again.”

“You have always been so.” Matthew relaxed, the hard planes of his face softening once more. “I wouldn’t expect you to change now.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “If you truly wish to be wicked, you should go sea bathing tomorrow morning.”

“Sea bathing? What is so wicked about sea bathing?” A healthful regimen that had never had a breath of scandal laid upon it.

“If you go to the beach tomorrow morning at six o’clock, you will find out. Send a note to order your bathing machine as soon as you return home. The beach in front of the aquarium is reserved for ladies at that time.” His dark eyes twinkled mischievously. “I will arrange for a dipper for you.”

“I do not need a dipper, thank you. I have plunged before and am perfectly capable of doing so now.” What was this rogue up to? She should refuse to go, if only it didn’t sound like a marvelous lark.

“I will not insist, then. But I will expect you to do your duty when the time comes.” Matthew rose and offered his arm.

“I will do my duty, Lord Lathbury.” She grasped his arm, glad his mood had turned. She didn’t like for them to be at odds. “But where will you be? Gentlemen are not allowed anywhere near the beach while ladies are bathing.”

“I do know that. So you will trust me to provide for your wicked experience even if it is in absentia.”

Giggling, Fanny accompanied him back toward the house as excitement filled her. Whatever Matthew had in mind, she could count on it being an adventure, and a wicked one at that. Once Lord Lathbury gave his word on something he would move heaven and earth to make it happen.

So if he had set his heart on marrying her, she might well find herself caught out, compromised and made to marry him or lose her reputation. She’d not put that past him. Such a quality in him, however, made her want to go to the beach so very badly. Flirting with danger had always been an exhilarating experience for her. Certainly she would not stop now.

CHAPTER 6

“He wants to meet you at six o’clock in the morning?” Elizabeth’s outraged voice filled the hired carriage as they sped toward their apartment. Brows furrowed, nostrils flaring, lips pursed, she reminded Fanny of some mythological monster. “His lordship is up to something, I’ll wager. He dances much too well for a large man.”