Sebastian wanted to shout his triumph when Fanny’s lips parted after the sweetest sigh of surrender. A small noise broke from her throat, curiously soft, filled with wonderment and pleasure.

Then her taste hit him, spice and sweetness, and his entire soul stirred. For a moment, he felt thoroughly disoriented, drunk on the flavor of her mouth. He framed her delicate face with both hands and slanted his lips over hers with a far greater passion than he had planned. He coaxed her lips even wider, and then dipped his tongue into heaven. He kissed her with ravishing expertise.

She whimpered. The sound made him go still. Finally aware he must be bruising her tender mouth with his passions, he took a deep breath. And released her lips.

Her green eyes had widened and darkened with shock. Her lips were red and swollen. A deep flush worked up from the collar of her dress to the edge of her hairline.

“Miss Dashwood,” he began gruffly. Christ. He hardly knew where to start. She was a lady, and he had taken a kiss from her like she was a doxy.

Trembling fingers rose to touch her swollen lips, and when he reached for her, she jerked away. That rejection was like a fist to his gut, and he stilled. She moved away from him, facing the fire, and he could see the slight tremble in her elegant frame.

“I never meant to lose control, I—” he cursed silently.

A great hush fell upon the room.

It hardly mattered he had only wanted to kiss her, it was evident to him he had frightened her with his coarse manners. “I apologize for my untoward behavior.” What the hell was he thinking to even want to marry her? He wasn’t a gentleman, he wasn’t genteel with his desires. How would he even consummate their marriage? The way he made love, licking and tasting a woman all over, splitting her legs wide to suck along her sex until her taste exploded on his tongue, her cries of bliss echoing in his ears, and then…and only then would he ride them long and hard to completion. This seemingly delicate woman before him wouldn’t even be able to tolerate him seeing her nakedness. She would possibly think their marriage bed an indignity she must suffer, much like his mother had.

The thought lingered, troubling him.

He was a damn fool.

Then she turned “There is no need to apologize.” Her face flushed a delicate, rosy hue. I…I simply had no notion it was possible to be kissed like that.”

The most delightful color blushed on her face. “And we are affianced, so some enthusiasm is expected.”

The tension winding through his soul eased.

Lively intelligence glittered in her exotically slanted eyes. “I must ask, Lord Shaw…Sebastian, why do you wish to marry me?”

In those beautiful eyes, lingered an aching demand, one that begged for sweet words and praises, and it struck him that she did want words of love, but perhaps no longer trusted in it. As it were, he did not love her. It was impossible. Sebastian wasn’t even sure what love felt like. But he wanted her in his bed, by his dinner table. She would add more than a refinement to his life, she would be the proof he had achieved all he had ever hungered for.

“I am eight and twenty years, and I have been thinking to marry. Since I met you…Fanny, you rouse hunger in me unmatched by any other.”

Her eyes widened, and she blushed prettily speaking of innocence that made him feel far too worldly for her. He wondered if any of the ladies he knew blushed.

“I’ve also wanted to marry a lady of quality.”

She canted her head to the side and seemed to think on that. “You are accepted in society.”

“Barely,” he said flatly. “I am tolerated. With a wife of your breeding and connections, I daresay my low origins will become more palatable when they rub elbows with me.”

Compassion and something more glittered in her eyes. “Thank you for being honest.”

Sebastian couldn’t help feeling as if he had wounded something tender inside of her. He cleared his throat. “Please do not mistake me. I’ve had a few other offers from families of quality.” They had needed his fortune, and a couple of the daughters had acted most ridiculously to sway his interest. He had never been the type of man to succumb to force or blackmail. If he had been that weak of character, the world would not now call him the Iron King, and scurry to be in his favor.

"Yes, I did hear the rumor that Lady Arabella tried to compromise you. She is the daughter of an earl and had a blemish-free reputation, marriage to her would benefit you more."

“Possibly,” he said, smiling when she scowled. Evidently, he should not have agreed, women were such contrary creatures. “But it is not her I’ve ever dreamed of kissing.”

Lady Fanny brightened visibly. “I will speak with Colin and inform him—”

“I will be the one to meet with your brother. Return home, and I will call upon him in the morning.”

She lifted her chin defiantly. “No. He needs to hear this from me. I would like to speak with him first.”

Her courage was a thing to behold. Ladies of quality did not hie themselves off to bachelors’ lodgings in the middle of the night to decide their own futures and then merely inform their family they were to marry. Colin would try and browbeat her into a life she did not want. He would probably have her carted off to the country or some other nonsense. Sebastian would not allow his friend to abuse her gentle spirits. “If that is your wish, please, by all means, speak with him.”

She gasped. “Truly?”

How much that question revealed. Before him stood a young lady much used to her will and desires being decided for her.

“Truly,” Sebastian murmured.

A radiant smile burst on her lips. “Thank you, Sebastian. Now I must go.”

He helped her into her coat, keenly aware that her delightful scent of lavender stole into his lungs. How he wanted to gather her close and kiss her again. For so long he had starved for a taste of her, had hungered to see her walking beside him, to dance with her. His mind still had not accepted that she would be his soon. A sense of strangeness had embraced him and was not of a mind to let him go. She seemed so different from him, so much softer and refined. Even the way in which she spoke, her accent was clipped, and her vowels drawn out. The hint of elusiveness fascinated him, and he wondered if he wanted her so much because she had seemed so unattainable.

“You will not regret your decision,” he said, vowing to treat her like the lady she was, always. He would need to govern his appetites once they wed and ensure the ugly side of his businesses never marred her in any way.

The very next morning, Fanny joined her brother and Darcy in the small breakfast room. The rains had finally halted, and the day promised to be filled with sunshine and hope. Perhaps she could coax Darcy to ride with her along Rotten Row in the afternoon. Though it was unlikely her friend would desire to go out when they would be the butt of sly glances and speculative whispers. There was also a strain around her friend’s mouth she did not like, it bespoke of an unhappiness Fanny had never witnessed in her before. And she feared it had been caused by her blunder in demanding whether her brother had a mistress.

They ate cinnamon bread, scrambled eggs, kippers, and roasted ham in silence. Colin at times stared at his wife, and she ignored his presence as if he were an ant. They did not speak with Fanny, caught up in their silent battle. Polishing the last of her bread spread with raspberry jam, she leaned back in the well-padded chair. “I have some news.”

Her brother managed to wrest his gaze from his wife to her. “I hope it is good tidings.”

“I am afraid it will be disagreeable for you,” she said quietly.

That got Darcy’s attention, and she lowered her knife to stare at Fanny.

Darcy gave her an expectant look. “What news is this, Fanny?”

“I’m to be married.”

Her brother nodded approvingly. “I’m relieved you are reconciled to accepting Lord Worsley. He—”

“I’ll be marrying Viscount Shaw.”

Her brother slowly lowered his knife. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve accepted his offer of marriage.”

“What could have possessed you? That damn bounder dared to approach you behind my back and—”

“I went to him…”

Fanny could not ever recall a time her brother appeared so astonished.

“Your conduct goes beyond the line of what may be tolerated, Fanny. To proposition the man?”

She delicately spread jam on a slice of toast. "You have been trying to decide my future when you had the privilege to do so for yourself. Though you were compromised with Darcy, you were already halfway in love with her. I do not wish to marry Lord Worsley. I've heard you say on more than one occasion that Sebastian Rutledge is a man of exceptional qualities."

He scowled in evident frustration. “For a businessman, but he is beneath you.”

Sadness pierced her. “Do you truly believe this?”

His closed expression spoke for him.

Her hand tightened on the handle of the knife. “Why?”

“He works,” her brother said furiously. "He has spat on his title and his position in society repeatedly since he inherited his title. He does not conduct himself like a gentleman, and that is because he was not raised as one. You marrying such a man cannot be better than marrying an earl. As a countess, you will be better placed—”

“Forgive me, Colin. I do not mean to interrupt. I believe even you have conferred with the viscount on investment matters. I daresay his acumen for business matters is something to be praised not vilified. It could be argued that any man who works to build his wealth and profession is superior to a man who inherited his fortune and hardly knows what it means to sweat for anything. I cannot perceive that somehow we are above him in any way.” She took a calming breath.

“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 be there. If you will both 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.