“Definitely not!” Fanny agreed, stroking his face. “But with three hundred a year she could afford her own carriage and something commodious in Northumbria so she can lord it over her cheeseparing cousin. That would keep her busy and her nose out of our affairs.”
“Agreed.”
Fanny brought the kiss to a satisfying conclusion. He did not need to know that her shuddering surrender was the culmination of so many fears bound up with the need to please her mother before she could please herself. She wanted to weep her joy, but it was too soon. She remembered Lord Quamby’s words and whispered, smiling, “In that case, all seems in order. Shall we inform the rest of the company?”
Chapter 11
Fenton groaned at the sound of tapping and hauled himself into a sitting position, shouting to the impatient servant on the other side of the door that he’d present himself in the saloon presently. He gazed at Fanny, curled up like a kitten beside him. She looked innocent and childlike in her slumber, and his heart swelled. If he wasn’t so terrified she would change her mind, he’d have the servant send the parson away until another time.
They’d made love three times since Lord Quamby had granted Fanny an honourable reprieve, but if it had been three hundred it wouldn’t have been enough.
She stirred and, with a lascivious chuckle, he traced a line with his finger from the Fenton diamonds at her throat, over the contour of Fanny’s right breast, before resting his hand on her belly. The mere touch of her smooth, warm skin stoked the fires of his desire.
“I’m sure you could never have predicted your scheme for revenge would have so unexpectedly pleased our collective mamas, my dear,” he murmured as she blinked open sleep-laden eyes. “All I can say is thank you for having saved me the trouble of finding a dull, suitable bride to please mine, so I could rush off to my mistress.” He gave her shoulder a playful squeeze rather than the languorous all-over body massage he’d have preferred as he flung his legs over the side of the bed. Friends and family were waiting for them in the saloon. Now was not the time to slake his lust.
“When I could get away,” Fanny replied, stretching luxuriantly. “Quamby and I are fierce combatants at whist.” She yawned, adding in a voice of feigned boredom, “It’s our favourite way to while away the evening together.”
Fenton pulled his shirt over his shoulders while Fanny feasted her eyes on his bunched-up muscles. She adored the vulnerable look of his nipples set into such masculine hardness. He paused in his dressing to grin at her. “You mean I haven’t yet convinced you of the advantages of fornication with me above whist with Quamby? You’d better be sure you know what you want, darling, for the parson is waiting.”
Crawling off the bed, Fanny wrapped her arms and one leg around the bedpost. Since she was still naked this provocative move had the desired effect. Fenton stifled a growl and closed his eyes, seemingly in pain.
“You’ll not convince me of anything until I’m your viscountess,” Fanny told him pertly, reaching for her chemise.
Suddenly she stopped, frowning as she clasped her hand to her forehead.
“What is it, darling?” Fenton was at her side in an instant, drawing her against him. “Is everything all right?”
“Oh, Fenton, when I’m your viscountess we can do this any time we wish.”
The puzzled concern on his face was adorable. He touched her cheek. “That will be wonderful, won’t it?” His tone was uncertain.
Fanny bit her lip. “Oh, Fenton, I’m having second thoughts.” She covered her face with her hands, pretending real distress as he gripped her shoulders and put her away from him.
“Second thoughts?” There was no trace of amusement in his voice. “You certainly appeared to enjoy our bedroom sport. Are you telling me now that you’re dissatisfied with proceedings?”
She dropped her hands. Lord, he appeared so adorably vulnerable with that look of concern that indicated he feared his performance was not up to her exacting standards that she had to suppress a giggle.
“Oh, it was all wonderful, Fenton, truly it was. But I have such a low boredom threshold. I mean, perhaps I’ll be bored by the sixth time. It’s usually about the sixth time I start to get bored with something and until a few days ago I knew nothing of all this.” She shrugged as expressively as she could. “Will the sixth be any different or have you demonstrated your entire repertoire?”
“You little wench!” Correctly interpreting the quirk of her lips and arch look he finally realised she was teasing him.
With a squeal she landed on her back upon the bed, looking up into Fenton’s burning eyes as he caged her body with his.
“Three minutes!” he muttered as he lowered his face to plunder her mouth, coming up for air to add, “Enough time to give you an experience you won’t forget and deliver you to the parson with sufficient self-respect so we can both hold our heads up in front of the gathered company.”
He lowered his head to kiss her, his breathing, fast and furious.
“Lesson number six—” he growled as he raised his head.
Deftly, Fanny rolled out from beneath him.
“Is going to have to wait until after I’m Lady Fenton.” She gripped the bedpost and reached over to run her hands through his boyish curls. “Darling Fenton, you are such a wicked fellow and the most devilishly irresistible rake I’ve ever encountered but now that you’re about to become leg-shackled to me, things are going to change.”
“What’s going to have to change?” He sounded panicked.
“Oh, none of this,” she assured him, airily, indicating the rumpled bed. She frowned. “Though, having said that, I’d say the hardest part has been achieved already.”
“What are you talking about?” He truly looked as if he didn’t know as he stared at her.
“Your redemption. My darling rake’s redemption.”
His lips curved into a smile and the adoring look he sent her lanced her heart. “I’ll happily spend a lifetime being redeemed by you, my little vixen. Now, let’s get ourselves married now, shall we, darling?”
He took her in his arms, now, adding in a rush, “Fanny, I’m so sorry I believed Bramley’s unfounded allegations.” He buried his face in her hair, adding wryly, “Though I think Bramley will feel he’s been served more than his just desserts when he gazes upon the squalling Quamby heir eight months from now and sees his own thuggish nose.”
Fanny pulled away to frown at him. “Antoinette is flighty but I’m sure she never went quite so far before accepting Lord Quamby’s suit.”
Her frown was obliterated by Fenton’s kiss, even as she knew her defence of her sister was completely unfounded.
“She certainly did, and the talk’s all over town.” Fenton took her hand. “It’s just fortunate she’s been taken up by His Grace and everyone knows that at least if the child she bears isn’t her husband-to-be’s it will have been foisted on her by Lord Quamby’s heir.”
Fanny sighed happily. “Mama is so pleased.”
“Enough about Antoinette. Here are your stays, madam.” Fenton assisted her with her undergarments before helping her into her rose-coloured twilled silk gown. With an appreciative sigh, he stepped back. “And now we’d best hurry and be sure to arrive separately if we are not to be thoroughly chastised by the terrifying dowagers.” With a finger beneath her chin he tilted Fanny’s head up. “They’ve been waiting for us in the blue drawing room this half hour, completely unaware that we’ve both been under the same roof, and as it’s my Uncle Roderick marrying us I’d wager he’s already cock-eyed.”
With a final, proud and proprietary look, he tucked her hand through the crook of his arm and led her to the door. “I shall be paying scrupulous attention to ensure he doesn’t inadvertently marry you to Brimble or Mama’s pug.”
“Darling Fenton.” She felt overcome by the love and warmth in his smile. He’d shown her what it felt to be adored and appreciated and he’d more than atoned for his brief lack of faith. Bramley would spend the rest of h
is life paying for that—and the odious creature knew it.
Nevertheless, her tone was offhand as she murmured, “Just so long as they can kiss like you, my dearest, I’ll be content.”
His feigned glower of displeasure and the trembling of his lip as he bit back his amusement made her yearn for his embrace. It wasn’t long in coming. When he finally released her from another fierce, lusty kiss, he regarded her with a look of challenge.
“Let Brimble or Mama’s pug try and match that!” he growled, caging her hand upon his arm. “I intend to make you the happiest, most satisfied wife in all England.”
THE END
In finding the love of her life, Fanny discovers a generosity of soul that makes her want to play matchmaker to other equally deserving but penniless young ladies. Read Rogue’s Kiss to find out how Fanny frees her cousin, Thea, from the shackles of her cruel and demanding aunt to entrance handsome Mr Grayling.
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Four very different sisters compete for love during an exciting London season: a celebrated actress with a heart of gold, a shy yet daring wallflower, and the artistic, illegitimate daughter of a nobleman. Caught up in a high-stakes game of intrigue and deceit orchestrated by their sister, the ton's reigning beauty, each must play their part to bring a dangerous traitor to justice while finding a man deserving of their love and special talents.
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Rake's Redemption (Scandalous Miss Brightwells Book 1) Page 15