He stopped pacing long enough to set his hands on his hips and rotate his neck. Unfortunately, as Fanny was an innocent, village girl and not some doxie that he might dally with in London, he couldn’t purge himself of this sudden, and rather perplexing infatuation that he’d developed. The slightest misstep would see him marched to the parson’s door if he wasn’t careful.
He couldn’t help wonder, and not for the first time, if the fates weren’t having a laugh at his expense. He pictured the fortune teller from the camp and shook his head as he imagined a smirk upon her mouth, laughter radiating out of her gray-blue eyes.
The knocker sounded at the front door, and Elliot stood. “Ah. I do believe our guest has arrived.” He turned to Jonathan with a mocking twist of his lips. “You might try to appear as though you aren’t about to carry out a death sentence.”
Jonathan attempted a smile, but he had to imagine that when Miss Grouseman walked in the room, it resembled a grimace more than a welcoming grin.
***
IT WAS THE FIRST TIMEFanny had been inside Sir Marwood’s two-story home. As she handed her outerwear to the butler, she glanced around and had to admit that Killigarth Manor was as impressive on the inside as it was on the exterior with its granite-mullioned windows, arched doorways, and massive chimneys. Originally built in the latter part of the Seventeenth Century, she had been surprised to find that it even boasted a bell tower.
But it wasn’t the architecture that caused the butterflies in her stomach to return as she walked into the spacious parlor. She acknowledged Sir Marwood first, offering him a genuine smile, but the easy greeting always came naturally whenever she saw him. He was a kind man who had done a lot for their modest hamlet. But while Elliot was an attractive man, he had never made her heart flutter like it did the instant she turned her gaze on Lord Castleford.
She offered a brief curtsy and murmured a slight greeting. After he did the same, they fell into a rather awkward silence, both of them eyeing the other with a careful intelligence, and perhaps even a spark of interest. Fanny felt her body betray her again as her breathing deepened.
“I’ve enlisted the aid of my housekeeper, Mrs. Thomas, to play the pianoforte for you,” Sir Marwood announced.
Fanny nearly jumped, as she gave a slight nod. She had nearly forgotten that he was still in the room.
Their host glanced between the two of them before he excused himself with a brief clearing of his throat. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
Fanny bit her lip anxiously as she watched him go. It wasn’t as if she was afraid to be alone with Lord Castleford, but rather ofherselfwhen she was around him. As the tension grew, she shifted on her feet and glanced everywhere but directly at him.
“Shall we—”
“I suppose we—”
They broke off at the same time. She laughed as she finally dared to look at him. In reply, a charming dimple appeared in the side of his left cheek.
He waved a hand. “Please, continue.”
She threaded her fingers in front of her somewhat self-consciously. “I was merely suggesting that perhaps we should get started with the lessons?”
“Splendid idea.” He walked over and held out an arm to her. “It is what brought you here, is it not?”
“Indeed.” She placed her hand through his crooked elbow — and that was where her amusement vanished. The muscles in his arm instantly bunched beneath her fingertips, and she had a brief vision of Lord Castleford without his shirt, where those forearms were bared, perhaps even wrapped around her—
She shook her head. That was a dangerous path to follow. Besides, he was a worldly man used to the comforts — and delights — of the city. He wouldn’t be attracted to a country mouse like her. And of course, she reminded herself, that was how it should remain. She knew he didn’t care for Cornwall, and she had no place in the city. She wouldn’t even know where to begin, having lived in Polperro her entire life.
Her only purpose in being here was to keep Lord Castleford oblivious, so that was what she would do.
But as he led her toward the second floor, Fanny found herself taking note of Lord Castleford’s height. She’d never realized how tall he was until now, the top of her head likely only brushing the tip of his chin. He was dressed in the first stare of fashion in a pristine, white cravat with a bottle green waistcoat and jacket, paired with black breeches and boots. Fanny glanced down at her simple, brown dress and suddenly felt like a scullery maid next to a distinguished prince.
It shouldn’t matter, but the comparison was not very comforting nonetheless.
Mrs. Thomas had yet to arrive when they entered the ballroom, giving Fanny a moment to appreciate the grandeur around her. A row of sparkling windows shone upon the black and white swirled marble floor beneath them. The ceiling was brilliant white with a carved medallion above the crystal chandelier. She could easily picture what this room might look like when it was filled with ladies and gentlemen dressed in their finest and twirling across the expanse.
“It’s rather extraordinary, isn’t it?”
Lord Castleford’s compliment took Fanny by surprise. “I’m sure you’re used to more extravagances than this in London.”
He put his hands in his pockets and looked at her with that intense stare. “It’s true that London has its allure, but the city doesn’t hold every delight to be had,” he murmured.
Fanny’s lungs froze, for it sounded as though he wasn’t just speaking of the room.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Mrs. Thomas entered with a flurry of jangling keys and a hasty pace. “What would you like to start with, my lord?”
Lord Castleford turned from Fanny and suddenly she could breathe again. He suggested a simple country reel.
