Fanny gasped. “Lilah! How can you say such a thing?”
“Because it’s true and we all know it,” her sister returned firmly. “Now, let’s go.”
Fanny considered Lilah’s words all the way to Killigarth Manor. While she wanted to deny her sister’s claim, Lilah was absolutely right. Their father, as well as the rest of the villagers, had been gambling on this risky, and potentially deadly, business for years.
Fanny could only pray that their luck held out for just a few hours longer.
Chapter Ten
AS THEIR CARRIAGE PULLEDup in front of Lord and Lady Marwood’s home, Fanny had to appreciate the view in front of her. Every window was brilliantly lit up from within. Unlike the past couple of weeks when she had walked through the doors of Killigarth Manor to silence, tonight the lilting strains of a string quartet drifted out through the open windows. She closed her eyes as she recognized one of the tunes as a quadrille; one of the first dances she had ever practiced with Lord Castleford.
As Fanny and her sisters, along with their mother, walked toward the second floor, Fanny felt her heart pound. After they were announced, and she glanced down into the ballroom, she faltered. She grasped the railing and exhaled deeply as memory assailed her. She knew it would be difficult to return here, where Lord Castleford’s presence yet lingered, but she hadn’t known it would be quite so acute.
Or painful.
“Are you alright?” Lilah asked at her side.
“I’m fine,” Fanny replied with what she hoped was a reassuring smile, and descended the stairs.
The room had been transformed into a spring-filled wonderland, with sparkling candlelight, fresh greenery, and fragrant flowers. A single red rose caught Fanny’s gaze and she separated herself from Lilah as she gravitated toward it. She held the full bloom to her nose and inhaled deeply. She closed her eyes and pictured Jonathan next to her in the rose garden in his white shirt rolled up to the elbows, a sheen of perspiration coating the expanse of muscular chest that was revealed. She sighed.
“It rather pales in comparison to your beauty.”
Fanny’s breath caught at the sound of the masculine voice, until recognition took hold. She slowly turned to face the arrogant gaze of Robert Linneman. She yearned to give him the set down he deserved for his highhanded treatment of her that day on the road, but instead, she offered a light curtsy and forced herself to hold her tongue. “How kind of you to say so.”
“It’s not kindness if it’s the truth.”
Fanny merely smiled. If such a compliment had come from Jonathan, she would have lit up from within. From Mr. Linneman, it only made her uncomfortable.
“There you are, Mr. Linneman!” Agnes strolled up with a perfectly practiced pout. For a girl of only fifteen, Fanny had to admit that she was falling into the role of coquette a little too easily. “I despaired of ever seeing you this evening. I saved a dance for you.” She held up her wrist from which her dance card dangled. “It’s the waltz.”
“I’m sorry, my dear, but I was going to beg your sister for the honor.” His dark eyes warmed as they lit on Fanny and she felt her blood turn to ice.
“But Mr. Linneman—”
He waved a hand in Agnes’ direction, but kept his gaze on Fanny. “Run along now, child. The adults are conversing.”
