“Oh, my God. I thought you were…” Jeremy bowed deeply, his face flaming as the realization dawned that he was actually standing before the Duke of Stapleton, Lady Rivers’ esteemed father. “Forgive me for not recognizing you, your grace.”
Stapleton chuckled. “You thought I was talking out of turn, obviously.”
“Yes,” Jeremy assured him quickly. “I would never had spoken to you that way if—”
The duke cut him off. “She’s impossible, that daughter of mine. Takes after her mother in that respect. Well, it was fun while it lasted, but I suppose introductions must be made. Nicolas Westfall, Duke of Stapleton. Father of the exquisite Lady Fanny Rivers. A woman whose honor you defended admirably, I must say, with so little provocation.”
Jeremy bowed again, face flaming still. “A pleasure, and I am sorry for the lack of respect when I spoke to you. I should never have…”
“Spoken your mind? Of course, you should have leaped to my daughter’s defense. I did my best to bait you, after all. I assume Fenton was similarly rude. My idea but I’m sure he went along with my request with great enthusiasm. My daughter has told me all about her increased interest in the theater, and while I disapprove of her habit of taking in strays, I am prepared to make allowances during your stay for the sake of peace. But be aware that your time among us is limited.” The duke strolled to the door as he continued, “You will be subjected to worse interviews when the family gathers together again. Dinner will be served at seven o’clock. I’ll send a servant to fetch you, so you don’t lose your way. Wear the navy-blue wool Weston tonight.”
When the door swung shut behind him, there was silence for a moment before the servants burst out laughing again. “At least you didn’t ask him to stir the coals like Lady Rivers’ last stray did,” one said.
Jeremy glared at the men around him. “Does he do that to all his daughter’s new acquaintances?”
“Oh, frequently. Says he can judge a character better if they think he’s ordinary.” They all tugged on their forelocks, grinning. “Happy to be of service to you, Mr. Dawes. If there’s anything you need, just ring the bell beside the fire.”
Jeremy shut his eyes as they filed out. He had imagined the Duke of Stapleton as a remote, grandiose man who would look down his nose at those he considered beneath him—which should have been everyone. Jeremy had actually been dreading the introduction. Lady Rivers had promised Jeremy would be welcomed at Stapleton, but he had never imagined the duke would be the one to show him to his room…or out-act him in his first scene.
Chapter 3
Fanny hurried toward the east sitting room, skirting around other guests in her father’s home, keen to be reunited with Jeremy Dawes. She had returned too late last night to find him still awake, but she had enquired about him and been assured he had been given every consideration for his comfort. He had even dined with her father, who had not attended Lord Rafferty’s home due to some sort of emergency on the estate.
“Lady Rivers!”
“I cannot stop,” she protested, one finger raised toward Lady Eastwick, who was a dear friend. “I am late for a very important meeting.”
Fanny hurried on, knowing curiosity would be stirred by her unseemly haste. What better way to stir interest than to be seen rushing to meet a young man?
In the hall outside the manor’s smallest sitting room, she paused, took a steadying breath, and smoothed her hair. She was strangely nervous, or perhaps excited was a correct term. She was about to embark on a bit of deception that would guarantee she remained undistracted for the next two weeks.
Fanny knocked and then slipped into the sitting room where Jeremy was supposed to be. A stranger with dark short-cropped hair stood before the window with his back to her. “Oh, I am so sorry,” she murmured, apologizing for blundering into the wrong chamber.
“Lady Rivers?”
She turned back as she recognized the voice. “Jeremy?”
“In the flesh,” he promised, spreading his arms wide and grinning.
Fanny managed to close her mouth with some effort and pushed the door closed behind her. She stared at him, more astonished with every step she took in his direction. He was almost unrecognizable from when she’d last laid eyes on him. If not for the green of his eyes surrounded by long lashes and the flirtatious quirk of his lips, she might never believe they’d ever met. “What happened to you?”
His smile faded and he glanced down at his attire. “Weston, Lock, and Hoby, and the valet you sent to dress me every day, I suppose.” He raked his hand over his shorn head. “Was I wrong to heed to their suggestions?”
“No,” she hastily assured him, moving for a closer inspection. He was the same height, only now he appeared much more muscular. And now that his exceedingly long dark hair had been trimmed away from his face, he seemed a completely changed man. Older, more self-assured. The difference in his presence was remarkable, and it might take her a while to grow accustomed to the change herself. She’d thought him pleasing to look at before, but now…well…ladies would swoon.
He absolutely looked the part of a gentleman of the ton. “You look exactly right to me.”
“I’m glad. For a moment I was afraid you were unhappy.”
“No indeed.” She prowled around him, inspecting him from head to toe. The perfectly fitted Weston coat accentuated his wide shoulders and the rest revealed his trim physique. She bit her lip, liking what she saw very much. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course,” he said and then offered a courtly bow. “Lady Rivers, you are as ever the most radiant woman in all of England.”
She extended her hands, blushing at his words. “Mr. Dawes, always such a flatterer.”
“Not a word I say is untrue,” he promised.
Fanny steadied her smile. She was as susceptible to flattery as the next woman. But she was his patroness first and they had business to discuss before her play began. “Won’t you sit and talk with me.”