Page 17 of The Duke of Kisses
“I'm honestly surprised it hasn’t happened before now.”
Now Fanny did laugh. She was so glad to have found her sister after so many years apart. Ivy had left their household when Fanny had only been ten, and Fanny had missed her dreadfully.
“You need a hot bath,” Ivy said as they reached the first floor and continued up toward the second, where the bedrooms were located.
“Tarenton is seeing to it.” Fanny realized this was the second time—out of three encounters—that she required a bath after being with David.
“Good. Then you’ll drink hot tea and broth and whatever else to ensure you don’t become ill. Cook will make you a toddy. Then you’ll rest.”
“Is it too much to hope we’ll still go out this evening?” Fanny asked.
Ivy blinked at her as if she’d just asked to fly to the moon. “Yes.”
Fanny exhaled. “I thought as much. Still, I had to ask.”
“How, exactly, did you fall into the lake?” Ivy would ask until Fanny told her what happened.
“I was walking with a gentleman.”
Ivy cast her a dubious glance. “Walking or falling?”
“Walking. I tripped.” She certainly wasn’t going to tell Ivy the truth of the matter. She’d never even told her about meeting David, let alone kissing him. Though Ivy was happily married to a wonderful man, she still believed most men to be pigs. Fanny was certain her sister would categorize a man who’d followed her onto Stour’s Edge property and kissed her as such.
They arrived on the second floor and went toward Fanny’s chamber which overlooked the square. Ivy opened the door and ushered Fanny inside toward her dressing room. “And who is this gentleman so I can be sure to have West scold him about allowing you to fall into the Serpentine?”
“West will no more scold him than you’ll allow me to go out later.”
Ivy laughed. “True. Still, I’d like to know who he is so I can glare at him surreptitiously.”
Fanny peeled her wet gloves from her puckered fingers. She looked at Ivy in question.
“Just drop everything on the floor.”
Fanny’s maid, Barker, an efficient woman in her middle thirties, arrived. “I’ll get the fire going, and they’ll set the bath up in front of it to lessen the chance of a chill.”
Ivy inclined her head toward the maid. “Thank you, Barker.” She returned her attention to Fanny, who was fumbling with the ribbon of her bonnet. It was the driest part of her, but her hands were too cold to function anymore. Ivy took over, untying the ribbon and removing the hat. “Who was the gentleman?”
“The Earl of St. Ives. He lifted me from the water and carried me to Lavinia’s curricle.”
“Hecarriedyou?”
Fanny heard the concern in her sister’s voice and sought to placate her. “He was doing me a courtesy.”
Ivy turned Fanny around and began to unlace her gown. “Huntwell, St. Ives’s seat, isn’t far from Stour’s Edge—maybe fifteen miles. How interesting that he was the one to rescue you.”
That explained, somewhat, why Fanny had encountered him in December. Though fifteen miles wasn’t walking distance. What had he been doing at Stour’s Edge that day?
She’d find out next time she saw him, and she was certain she would. Something was happening between them. She could hardly wait to see where it led.
