“Of course. She handled herself well, and because of that, we solved the cases. Together.” But it was so much more than that.
“Ah, I see.” His cousin grinned so wide William wanted to smack it off his face. “Miss Bancroft is quite something.”
“That she is.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Have you something to say about that?”
“Only this.” Andrew rested an ankle on a knee. “Don’t you feel she would make a fine addition to the Storme family?”
Another flush of heat crept up the back of William’s neck. “I do, of course, but…” But what? Why the delay, outside of letting her heal? It was rather terrifying to offer up his heart even though she’d already said she loved him. She’d had four days to think about everything after that horrible night. What if she’d decided a life of intrigue wasn’t for her? “I can’t help but think after those events, she might not wish to potentially be thrust into another such scenario.”
“Well then, ask the girl to marry you and see if she’s willing to follow you into danger occasionally. Seems to me she held her own. Plus, she didn’t order you away after you rescued her nor fall into hysterics. That’s something.” Amusement danced in his stormy eyes. “Go live your life and enjoy the happiness that’s coming your way. Perhaps you’ll have children you can mold into the next generation of detectives. I rather doubt London’s crime problem will improve.”
“True.” Imagine, fat little cherub babies. Imagine a wife! A lump of emotion lodged in his throat. “What if I fail at being a decent husband?”
“Then I’ll personally take you to task, but I do understand your concerns. I harbored them too before I married and during those early months. You learn, constantly make choices that have you growing. It helps with the right woman by your side.” Andrew glanced about the remains of tea then at William’s mother. “Dearest auntie, my mother wishes for you to come to dinner tomorrow evening. Do you mind if I ring for a refresh? I’m rather in the mood for some gossip, and Sarah would appreciate hearing all the scandal when I return home.”
“How delightful!” His mother smiled. “I should adore that.”
“I’ll summon the butler.” William sighed as his cousin stood and crossed the room toward the bell pull. Apparently, he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts any time soon, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to be in Francesca’s company.
*
March 20, 1819
Fanny frowned ather mother as she fussed and fluttered about the dressing room. “What is so important about this afternoon that you’re concerned about my attire?” She’d been alternately grouchy and grateful for the past two weeks, for she’d survived an ordeal that many women wouldn’t have. Yet, William hadn’t deigned to pay her a visit during her recuperation period.
Had he changed his mind about her? Even after the article that she’d wrote ran in her newspaper in a prominent spot on the front page?
“Hush, you, and stop being such a sourpuss.” Her mother directed the maid to twist and curl Fanny’s hair into an intricate updo that was more suitable for a ballroom than another day of lounging about the house. “Inspector Storme came by a few days ago to talk to your father.”
“Oh?” The hairpins she’s been holding for the maid tumbled from her suddenly lax hand. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. “What, ah, was the outcome of that talk?”
“Can you not guess?” Her mother lifted a gown of deep purple from the bed and held it up for Fanny’s inspection. “The inspector wants to marry you.”
“And Papa said?”
“He gave his permission and they worked out a contract.”
“So, his mind was clear enough to make an arrangement?”
“Yes. And he had his man-of-affairs in as well. But your father was cognizant and a bit relieved that you’ll be settled.”
Once her hair was finished and the two mother of pearl combs secured in the tresses, Fanny rose from her vanity in somewhat of a daze. She let her mother assist her on with the gown, and as the cool folds of the taffeta settled over her skin, she sighed, and then was forced to hold her breath as a hiccup made its presence known. As soon as the reaction passed, she looked at her mother. “Are you and Papa happy with the match? You wanted a title for me, but I—”
“We’re happy that you’re happy. After what happened when we almost lost you…” Her voice caught and tears sprang to her eyes. “Your father and I realized we should have let you choose from the outset.” Gently, she turned Fanny about so their gazes connected. “I only ask that you don’t linger on a long engagement, for your father’s sake. He’s rather anxious to have you wed while he can remember you.”
“Of course.” Tears pricked the backs of her eyelids. Life was ever-changing. “I’m sure William won’t take issue with that.”
“And while we’ve not made peace with the fact your position at the newspaper isn’t benign or consigned to safe stories of ton society any longer, we realize this is the life you’ve chosen for yourself. Just be careful.”
“I will, and if the inspector is with me, I have no cause to worry.” But she did, for had he changed his mind on that? She smoothed her hands along the front of the gown, turning this way and that while peering into the nearby cheval glass. “How do I look?” Though her wounds were healing nicely, the few stitches she’d received for that cut on her abdomen had thrown off her self-confidence. Would there be much scarring?
“Like a woman on the verge of becoming engaged.” Her mother gave her a swift hug. “Inspector Storme should arrive at any moment. We’ll give you the privacy of the drawing room.”
Butterfly wings brushed at her stomach. It wasn’t every day a woman found herself engaged. Well, at least for her.
A discreet knock on the door made the rest of her thoughts fly out of her head. Both Fanny and her mother glanced at the butler.
“Inspector Storme is here to see Miss Bancroft. I’ve shown him into the drawing room as requested.” He looked at Fanny. “Do you require tea?”