“Mr. Dawes, I could never be embarrassed by you.”
“Thank you. I do hope you’re right.”
She smiled at the young actor by her side, encouraging him, she hoped, to be more optimistic. Her play would be a success in her eyes if the fortune hunters left her alone, and if it didn’t exactly turn out as planned, she’d make adjustments accordingly.
Every now and then a beam of light would strike him, revealing the odd copper strand in his hair. He was quite dashing now. But Jeremy didn’t need training in turning a woman’s head. He had an agile tongue for flattery which was so useful in society. “You do look the part, and sound it to my ear.”
“I’ll consider that the highest compliment of my life,” he promised placing his free hand over his heart.
Fanny laughed, clinging to his arm. The man was outrageous.
They strolled along side by side, Mr. Dawes peppering her with questions about the family and her childhood home. But he was constantly looking about them. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s eerie under so many trees.”
“I’ve always thought trees romantic. I had my first kiss in these very woods,” she admitted with a laugh.
Jeremy looked at her with one brow raised high. “May I ask who the lucky man was? Or was it your late husband?”
“A lady never tells,” she said with a coy smile.
“Not your husband then,” he guessed, correctly too. “So is the fellow at liberty still, or did your father lock him in his dungeon for his daring?”
Fanny laughed. What would he say if he knew Fanny had been the one to take liberties? People always assumed she had been a good girl, which was a mistake on their part, really. “My father isn’t a tyrant, and he doesn’t have a dungeon, either. Papa never knew about that kiss and he never will.”
“Ha! So you were kissed by a scoundrel, and he got away with it. Lucky devil.”
“I suppose,” she murmured. “I am actually very glad I never had to marry him. Scoundrels make terrible husbands in my opinion.”
“And that is the only opinion that matters today,” he promised.
She looked at him curiously. “So, where did your first kiss take place, Mr. Dawes?”
“Oh, no. I’m an innocent still,” he promised with a sly wink. “Never been kissed.”
Fanny laughed outright at his boast. “By all means, keep your own counsel. I don’t mean to pry.”
Jeremy’s grin widened. “Yes, you do, my lady. You’ve been prying into my past since the day we met.”
“It’s your own fault for being so mysterious,” she complained.
He looked ahead. “There’s nothing about my past that a proper lady needs to hear.”
Fanny disagreed, but Jeremy was stubborn about certain things. It had taken her a month to find out he lacked any family or home other than the theater.
They finally came to a trickling brook with stepping-stones across it. It was a pretty hidden spot deep in the woods. “Here we are.”
Mr. Dawes looked around, his eyes narrowing. “Is this where your infamous first kiss was stolen?”
“Enjoyed, and yes, I was on my way back from a party and got a stone in my slipper. I had to stop to remove it and had lagged behind.”
“And the scoundrel took advantage of your lack of chaperone.”
She couldn’t continue to lie when the truth was more fun. She shook her head. “It was I who took advantage of him.”
Jeremy Dawes blinked but then his eyes lit up with delight. “You did?”
She shrugged. “I was a precocious sixteen-year-old and determined to get my first kiss before my young sisters did. When it was over, I felt decidedly smug for weeks.”