“Dear God,” her brother muttered, glaring at her. “You are entirely serious. Mamma will be driven to her bed when she hears of this. You’ve always been so high-spirited.”
Fanny winced. "I thought never to marry and live under your roof until I claim my inheritance. But I can see that is not to happen. You want me gone,” she said softly. “Though it pains my heart, I must accept your wishes.”
Guilt flashed in his eyes. “I will not release your fortune if you marry someone I do not approve of.”
“Your management of the trust my money is held in will expire on my five and twentieth birthday. I daresay I can wait until another two years to come into my inheritance fully. Viscount Shaw has an astonishing amount of money, and I already suspect he will be indulgent.”
Her brother scowled, and Fanny smiled, though there was little to be amused about, for a moment she felt pleased that she had ruffled his feathers. “I never meant to embarrass this family when I ran from the altar. Lord Trent hurt my heart and dashed my hopes, and I am happy I was not persuaded to marry a man who has so little regard for me. Please be happy with my decision. I wish not to part from you with bitter feelings between us.”
Colin’s expression softened. “And you think Sebastian Rutledge has tender sentiments for you?”
She recalled the heat in his eyes, the firm press of his lips to hers, the passion that had blazed through her soul. “No, I am not entirely sure what he feels for me. But I am not deceived into any false expectations of what our marriage will be like. It will be one of convenience and mutual respect,” she said quietly.
“I had not the smallest suspicion you could be so intractable,” her brother finally said.
Looking up, she mustered a smile. “Then will you give your blessings?”
“He is very unrefined, Fanny,” he said, clearly trying to deter her still. “Shaw is wealthy to be sure, but I cannot see how you will be happy with a man who exists in a world so far from the elegant life to which you are accustomed. He mixes with stage people, actors, and actresses, one of his closest friend is a doctor I’m told, and another of his business partners used to be a pugilist. They are all common, and he has made no effort to repudiate them and move into more genteel society. I daresay you will be expected to mix with their society as well. Such a notion cannot possibly be welcomed.”
She flushed, hating the worm of doubt filling her veins. “It isn’t likely I shall receive another offer. I cannot wait years for society to welcome me again.”
Darcy offered her a small compassionate smile, her eyes no longer cold and distance. “Please do not be hasty. Let’s talk as sisters and devise another plan. Surely the earl may be a better option than Shaw, Fanny?”
“No…he isn’t.”
“For heaven sakes, why not?”
Because Sebastian makes me feel…She pushed back her chair and stood. “Because Viscount Shaw is my choice. We are to marry by special license, and I would be pleased if you both attend. If you will excuse me, I will start my packing today and pen a letter to mamma.”
Then she walked from the dining room, into the hallway and up the stairs. Her orderly, well-planned life had been turned upside down and Fanny was curiously unafraid. Perhaps she was too foolish not to feel any sort of apprehension, or the intrigue that had long burned in her heart had eclipsed all else.
No, I shan’t be afraid…for once I’ll live by my desires.
Chapter 6
One week later…
I am Viscountess Shaw.
The well sprung carriage that she traveled in rattled along the cobbled streets taking her from her brother’s townhouse in Mayfair to her new home in Berkeley Square. Her trunks, portmanteau, valises, and hat boxes had been packed and sent on early in the morning, but it had only been two hours since Fanny had vowed before God, the bishop, her brother, and Darcy that she would cherish and obey Sebastian Rutledge. How had she not realized that obeisance was a part of marriage vows, she had scowled at that bit and hesitated. Sebastian had been amused and had bent and whispered in her ear that he did not expect it of her. Fanny wasn't sure if that revealed the kind of man who thought of others beyond himself and did not believe in slavish adoration or did he perceive her to be the intractable and quarrelsome sort. She hoped it was not the latter. That was not a good opinion a husband should have of his wife.
She pushed aside the curtains to see they were now on Davies Street. In a few minutes, she would arrive at her new home and the anxieties attacking her were severely unwelcome. Oh, dear what was I thinking? And why was it now she was feeling doubts? The past few days she had felt a sense of relief that she would soon be in her own home, away from the loving restrictions of her brother. She hadn’t dreaded the thought of sharing a home with Lord Shaw, but now her nerves were stretched thin simply because she could not imagine what their life would be like.
As a marchioness, her role would have been clear. Produce an heir and a spare as soon as possible. And though the notion stung that the marquess would have valued her womb far more than her witty intellect and company, that was the way of their world. She would have expected to run their household and organize the staff with graceful efficiency, plan balls, contribute to charities, and host dinner parties. Sebastian Rutledge had a title, but he wasn’t a gentleman at all. What was she expected to do as his wife? What kind of people would she be called upon to entertain? Where would they live when the season ended? What would be expected of a woman whose husband owned iron foundries? Did he too want an heir and a spare like all the other lords? He hadn’t been reared with that expectation to duty and his bloodlines, an
d the awareness she truly had no notion of the character of the man she had wed had been driven through her heart like a stake.
Fanny felt distressed that she was only now thinking about those matters. Well in truth these worries had started the night before when she had stared into the canopied curtain above her bed. She had risen with the sun and prepared for her wedding day with mixed emotions of relief and uncertainty.
Fanny had worn her most fashionable dress, and delight had burned in her veins at his all-encompassing stare. To her mind, his regard had been too direct and intense, and anyone would think the man had already compromised her virtue.
The wedding breakfast at her brother’s home had been filled with forced joviality, and she had been delighted indeed when it had been over. The most mortifying memory had been when Darcy had taken Fanny into the private parlor and tried to impart to her what her duties as a wife involved in the marriage bed since her mother had not elected to attend.
She had written her mother of the news of her engagement to Sebastian, and she had only replied that she was prostrate with disappointment over her daughter's choice, and when her nerves had recovered, she would return to town. For now, she would take to the waters of Bath. Fanny had decided to leave her mother’s disappointment and acceptance to time, seeing it would take a while for her mother to recover from losing a marquess as a son-in-law.
She knew little about men and the intimacies expected in marriage. Somehow Fanny hadn’t imagined she would be expected to reveal her naked body to her husband. Her shock had been so great she had almost fainted. She knew there was to be some kissing of course but nothing much after.
Since her talk with Darcy, Fanny had existed in an acute state of mortification at her ignorance and worse she did not believe she could appear in the nude before a man she hardly knew and allow him to touch her. According to Darcy, he would do more than touch and Fanny was perturbed. Her sister in law said Colin had protected her delicate nature as much as possible and controlled his base urges. What that meant Fanny had no notion, but the implication that because her husband was not a gentleman, he would not be mindful of her sensibilities was strong.