Page 19 of What a Widow Wants

“Not going to sleep, are you?” Kinellan called as they turned onto the roadway behind the promenade. “I’ll drop you at our lodgings, return this lot to Jeffries, reward him suitably, then join you for coffee and the largest breakfast you can order.”

“Capital plan, Kinellan,” Matthew said, stealing glimpses of the early morning traffic surrounding them. His exit from the bathing machine must be done without notice of anyone. “Bracing water and brisk exercise will give me an appetite every time.”

“I suspect once you marry, Lathbury, you won’t even need the ‘bracing water’ to accomplish that state.”

“Beware, Kinellan.” Matthew popped his head out of the wagon and, finding the street deserted, jumped to the ground. “You will go a-wooing in earnest one day and it would behoove you to remember that sauce for the goose makes an even more delicious one for the gander. I will have no compunctions whatsoever against bedeviling you at every chance I get.”

“Lead on, MacDuff!” The earl grinned and started the horses again, their hooves clopping jauntily on the cobblestones.

Matthew adjusted his hat to hide his still damp hair and trotted up the steps to their rather grand digs. He’d rented two opulent suites of rooms for him and Kinellan, side by side, with an eye to impressing Fanny if he could find a way to spirit her up here. Not that he thought she’d succumb to mere decor or the luxurious appointments the landlord provided. Still, seduction was much easier to accomplish in attractive surroundings and while he didn’t want Fanny’s choice stripped from her, he’d not scruple on the lavishness of his attempts to make her change her mind.

CHAPTER 8

“Lady Marchant has quite the best singers and musicians I’ve heard during our time here, don’t you think, Fanny?” Elizabeth whispered as Mrs. Violetta Fremont’s soaring voice rendered the popular Italian aria “Caro Mio Ben.”

“I have to agree, my dear.” Fanny peered around the crowded room, searching for a glimpse of Matthew. He’d promised her he would be attending Lady Marchant’s musicale, though he’d yet to put in an appearance. “Mrs. Fremont’s voice is divine, although I will confess to a preference for Mr. O’Shea’s ditties. So humorous I want to laugh out loud.”

“He does have a lovely tenor voice, although I think some of his selections a trifle risqué.” Settling back in her chair, Elizabeth smiled but then tensed as Mrs. Fremont hit a note that quite shook the pendants in the crystal chandelier overhead and set them to tinkling. Pray God the woman didn’t bring the house down.

Still no Matthew.

Tonight was her and Elizabeth’s last night in Brighton. They would leave for London just after breakfast in the morning, which saddened Fanny, to her surprise. Had she realized she would have such a delightful time here she would have arranged a longer stay. At least until Matthew quit the resort town.

Matthew had proved the most charming companion in the three weeks since she’d arrived. After their tryst in the bathing machines, they’d managed to meet almost every day at some public or social function and thoroughly renew their acquaintance. Less frequently they’d met in private, although they’d managed three more passionate dalliances, one in a rather inventive place. Who would have guessed one could engage in sexual congress in a ruined castle without being discovered or tearing one’s gown? Not the most comfortable of places, but the thrill of danger again made it worth the discomfort of hard, rough stone walls. Soon she’d be surrounded instead by the equally unyielding presence of her prim and proper brother-in-law and his equally proper wife. Theale was an old tyrant, although Lavinia had her good moments. Still, she could look forward to a much more constricted existence once she returned to London. She’d just have to endure and look forward with longing to seeing Matthew at Charlotte’s house party.

Where was the wretch?

“Good evening, Fanny.”

She jumped in her chair as Matthew slid into the empty seat she’d been holding for him. “Shhh. Mrs. Fremont is not finished.”

“I beg your pardon.” He straightened, his attention focused on the singer.

Surreptitiously cutting her gaze toward him, Fanny repressed a sigh. Matthew was in fine form tonight. His black evening dress was the epitome of elegance, from his exquisitely tied cravat to his impeccably cut pantaloons and white stockings that showed off his thickly muscled calves splendidly. A twinge of longing to have those solid calves entwined with hers once more smote her, heating her face. She glanced away, firmly turning her attention back to Mrs. Fremont, who held her final note another two full measures, then bowed to the company with arms spread wide.

Enthusiastic applause kept Mrs. Fremont bowing for another several minutes. Well, she deserved the recognition for such a display. To Fanny’s left, Elizabeth clapped loudly, a wide smile gracing her lips. She’d wager her friend would miss this pleasant life when she returned home as well.

Lord Kinellan appeared on Elizabeth’s left. “Good evening, Mrs. Easton. How nice to see you again.”

“And you, my lord.” Elizabeth’s smile had narrowed, though she nodded pleasantly to the earl.

A touch on her hand jerked Fanny back to the man beside her. His eyes shone bright in the candlelight. “Would you care to go to the refreshment room or do you prefer to remain here for more music?”

“I think something to drink is a splendid notion.” Fanny gathered her reticule and fan and rose. “Would you like to come with us, Elizabeth?”

Her fellow widow arose and glanced from Fanny to Lord Kinellan. “His lordship has asked me to accompany him to the Marchants’ drawing room. There is a very fine Turner Lord Marchant has recently acquired.”

“By all means, my dear. I know how you delight in Mr. Turner’s works.” Fanny bit back a grin as Elizabeth draped her cream silk shawl around her shoulders and gingerly took Lord Kinellan’s arm. “Enjoy yourself.”

The couple moved off, and Fanny turned to Matthew who was gazing at her with his piercing blue eyes. “I believe you suggested refreshments, my lord? Must I starve or need I take the lead?”

Grinning, he offered his arm. “I am yours to command, my lady.”

“I should certainly hope so.”

“I suspect Kinellan is about to make a conquest.” He nodded toward the couple, just clearing the doorway.

“Hardly.” Fanny chuckled. “Elizabeth Easton is still very much in love with her husband, the lieutenant colonel.”