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misgivings about taking her on. They would love each other, and they would fight, too. He’d question her and she’d push him to reach for his dreams.

When he was silent too long, she drew closer to him. “Are you really going to claim that you don’t want to spend the rest of your life flirting with me?”

“We don’t have to marry for that,” he offered. “We could keep seeing each other. We’d find a way to meet discreetly somewhere every few weeks.”

“I would rather not sneak around any longer.” While she was disappointed that Jeremy didn’t jump at the chance to marry her, she was glad he wasn’t rushing to accept her suggestion either without proper consideration. But surely he knew her well enough to understand she did nothing halfway. “I’m not asking you to give up your career, and I know, too, I am not the woman you might have imagined marrying, but I assure you, I am constant. My feelings for you will only grow the longer we are together.”

“How would you feel about a long courtship, then?”

She studied him. She enjoyed a good negotiation. “For how long?”

“As long as we’ve known each other,” he suggested. “Six months.”

“No, that is much too long. I only had to wait a month before I married River,” she explained.

“It’s long enough for you to really consider whether you want to marry a pauper. And besides, your family is in mourning.”

“Two months,” she countered, warming to the challenge of convincing him to marry her more quickly.

“Four. That’s long enough for me to learn to ride a horse and not be in danger of falling off. I’ve heard it’s a requirement of being a gentleman about Town to ride every morning. I’d rather not break my neck in Hyde Park. In three months, your family will be out of mourning and the banns can be called.”

“So, we agree to marry in three months.”

“No. I said four.” He shook his head, halting her attempt to bring the date forward with a clear decision on his part. “If we were to marry, I should like to have Mrs. Hawthorne attend our wedding celebrations. We will delay to give the widow time to grieve before we ask her to be happy for us. She wanted so much to attend your wedding.”

“That is very considerate of you.” She should have thought of that herself. “I just want us to be together. You’ll stay with me in Mayfair when I return to Town.”

“Not a chance.” Jeremy looked down upon her, his expression serious. “I’ll stay where the duke suggests I should stay and visit you every day. I am, as ever, at your complete disposal.”

Fanny wasn’t sure if Jeremy’s reliance on Father’s opinion was in her best interests or not but if she could see Jeremy every day, Fanny could still do her work and have time to enjoy introducing him to her friends. Jeremy was worth the effort of making an agreement that he was comfortable with. “Agreed, and when I need to travel, you will accompany me.”

“Along with a suitable chaperone to protect you from any gossip,” he added with a smile.

A chaperone would seriously impede any encounters of a romantic nature between them. But if Fanny chose a chaperone from among her most liberal-minded widowed friends, she was sure she and Jeremy could meet under the sheets as often as she wished during any house party they might attend together. The appearance of respectability was all that really mattered to society. When they married—and she couldn’t imagine he’d change her mind now—she would have Jeremy all to herself. “Daily meetings, three months of courtship, and marriage by banns on,” she did a quick calculation in her head adding in the period for the reading of the banns, “approximately the twenty-first of November. It’s a deal,” she said, putting her hand out.

“Let’s not put that in writing this time.” Jeremy sighed as they shook. He held her hand and brought her closer to him. When he leaned down, it was just like the first time, when he’d almost kissed her. “You love me,” he whispered.

“Deeply.” Her eyes dropped to his lips, where a smile lingered.

“It’s about time.” His eyes lifted to hers and then he smiled somewhat shyly. “I have loved you from the moment I met you. I tried so hard to master my role of a smitten suitor in a bid to impress you that I never was acting the part. But I never imagined you’d come to care for me as well.”

Fanny pushed herself against his body and rejoiced when his arms encircled her waist finally. “You love me. Say it again.”

His lips twitched as he lowered them inches from hers, “You love me.”

She laughed softly. “Deeply and forever.”

Jeremy cupped her face, tilting her lips up to his so they hovered on the verge of a kiss. He caught her gaze, holding her stare a long moment. “People will talk.”

“People always do. Some will declare that I’ve finally been tamed.”

“My dear lady, taming you is the last thing on my mind.”

And then like any great romantic hero of the stage, he tipped her backward over his arm and kissed her soundly. For a moment, Fanny could swear she heard the sound of distant applause.

Epilogue

Mayfair, London

14 February, 1820

Jeremy flicked through the stack of letters he’d been handed with a severe frown as he stood in the dim hall of Fanny’s exquisite Mayfair home. He marched into the adjoining room. “Fenton, has my wife not seen the mail yet?”

Fenton didn’t rise as usual, but the evil goose at his feet did. Jeremy had learned to keep clear of the pair.

“Not as yet, Mr. Dawes. She’s still in her meeting with Mr. Danvers.”

Even before their marriage, Fanny and Jeremy had got their heads together and decided the faithful Stapleton steward needed a change of scenery. Fenton’s health had been causing concern. He was cross with everyone, until Fanny had tricked a confession out of him.

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