One maid winced. “Lord Rafferty kept saying he wanted lots of Mrs. Warner’s favorite flowers, my lady.”
“Oh, dear. I’m sure he meant well but…well, let’s keep a few of the taller ones intact for his sake, but place them over there on the mantle above the hearth and another few about the permitter of the room on the other furniture. Then we must shorten the table arrangements.”
Working together, they found a better height and carefully trimmed all the table arrangements so that everyone would be able to see each other. It took about half an hour, and by the time they were finished, Fanny vowed never to cut another flower stem again.
She thanked the maids on her sister’s behalf and discreetly rejoined the party. Rebecca was standing across the room, hanging on to her betrothed’s arm. Fanny caught her eye and gave her a quick and hopefully reassuring smile that all was well.
Lord Letterford was suddenly at Fanny’s side. “Do you have a moment now, Lady Rivers?”
A footman announced the luncheon.
Fanny stood aside with him as Rebecca adroitly maneuvered her future husband and guests toward the dining room. “Not really at this moment.”
Letterford remained by her elbow as other guests sauntered past. “I understand from the duke that your visit to the country will be a short one again.”
“Yes, I am due back in London the week after next,” she confirmed. “I hope to spend a lot of time with my family.”
“A pity, for I had hoped for a chance to see more of you.”
She smiled. “I’m afraid that will not be possible. Do excuse me again, but I must find my seat for the luncheon.”
Lord Letterford beamed, throwing out his chest. “I have the happy honor of sitting by your side today.”
Fanny was taken aback. Rebecca had promised she’d not be placed beside Lord Letterford for any event.
Letterford smiled. “Rafferty obliged me and switched my place as a favor.”
“Is that so,” Fanny said, dying a little inside at the thought of being trapped with a man she had so little in common with.
But there was nothing she could do but make the best of it and hope he didn’t propose in front of so many witnesses.
She couldn’t wait for tomorrow, when she would have Mr. Dawes by her side again. He would not be bribed or tricked into leaving her side for any reason. There were compensations to being a widow with vast resources at her disposal. Loyalty could be bought.
“How lucky for me,” she managed to force out as they took their seats.
Chapter 2
Jeremy Dawes had never been so far from London in his life. Or willingly remained so close to other human beings for so long, either. Jeremy escaped the close confines of the mail coach for the wide-open space of the Stapleton village square and looked around, uncertain of what he expected but filled with enthusiasm.
The little village was awash with new sights and sound that he drank in. There was a friendliness to the inhabitants that he found reassuring almost immediately. Jeremy quickly concluded that the fine people of this village were unlikely to steal his new hat from his head, or his expensive luggage, but he kept a wary eye out just in case. Thieves were everywhere…and he should know.
Jeremy glanced at the coachmen shouting out a spate of orders to everyone and returned to the conveyance. He was anxious to collect his trunk, aware the quality of workmanship was better than those of most who traveled the public conveyance with him, and that it had marked him as someone worth stealing from. In Jeremy’s experience, this had to be the first time ever he’d appeared more prosperous than his fellow man. It was quite a disconcerting situation to find himself in, actually.
Jeremy had been born poor and had expected to be so all his life. He’d scrimped and stolen to get by since he’d been orphaned as a boy, too young to remember he’d had a family once upon a time. He’d found employment at a theater in recent years and enjoyed modest success supporting the lead actors and understudies as he learned the craft of pretending to be someone else. But to get ahead in life, he’d learned that actors needed a patron.
He’d found his…Lady Fanny Rivers. Suddenly having coins to spare in his pocket was very much a novelty still. He had kept his first shilling, to remind himself of where he began. Now he was about to embark on his first role as a leading man in a very private play. His only regret was that no one in the company would ever see his performance.
As baggage was tossed down carelessly, Jeremy rushed to collect his new traveling trunk before it was damaged in the drop. He juggled it as well as the smaller case he’d been given to bring by Lady Rivers’ London man of business.
“When you’re ready, sir,” a man called out.
Jeremy jerked around for the location of that voice and spotted a sour old man watching the coach being unloaded from a nearby gig. Lady Rivers had promised he’d be met and conveyed to her father’s estate, rather than having to walk the whole way on foot. The fellow might look unhappy, but he was clearly an upper servant of some sort.
He drew closer to the fellow. No rings on his fingers. A pocket watch on a tarnished chain across his belly. Right-handed. “Are you from Stapleton Manor? Did Lady Rivers send you?”
The fellow paused to suck on his teeth before answering, assessing Jeremy in turn. “I am, and she did.”
Relieved he’d not have to wait all day to finish his journey, Jeremy strode forward, smiling. Time to act. “Mr. Jeremy Dawes.”