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Fanny stared at her, her mouth going dry. “What sort?”
“Fanny I cannot say!”
“Darcy do not be silly, we are married women and you are my dearest friend, you can trust this particular confidence with me.”
Darcy looked away. “These are things only fast and immoral women would do but it seems my husband craves these acts." She didn’t seem disgusted at the notion more fascinated and her face was scarlet.
A flash of knowledge tore through Fanny. Darcy had done these very acts she wanted hidden. Oh. She sat awkwardly, her heart beating wildly. “Is...is one of these things making love with your husband fully unclothed...and not in the dark?”
They were both blushing by the time her question ended, and Darcy giggled. “Fanny, this conversation is most improper, but yes.”
Then she changed the conversation to the mundane, and Fanny listened half-heartedly speculating what else Sebastian required of her that only loose and immoral women would normally do. And wondering why she was so terribly fascinated? And frightened...and breathless...and curious.
A couple of hours after visiting Darcy, Fanny returned home. She’d responded to a few letters, mostly charities soliciting her patronage which she gladly provided, but thoughts of the desires her husband might be keeping from her had overwhelmed her, distracting her from the tasks at hand. With a sigh, she pushed aside the packet of letters and lowered the quill onto her writing desk. Fanny stood and exited the smaller drawing room which she had commandeered as her personal space. She made her way to the room in which her husband practiced his boxing, and the voices floating through the door alerted her that he was not alone. Percy Taylor had come to call again, the third day in succession if she was not mistaken.
“You should take a lover…that is what you need if you cannot go to your genteel wife for your needs.”
Shock froze the greeting on Fanny’s tongue. Though the door to the exercise room was ajar, both men’s backs were to her and seemed engrossed in their conversation.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sebastian snapped, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I am not discontented.”
He shifted from his friend, his side profile stark and uncompromising. Her heart trembled and the uncertainty swamping her senses was unbearable.
Percy jabbed at him, and her husband bounced away, his feet shuffling with grace and speed as they danced around each other in a rhythm that was now familiar to her.
"Come man, do you take me for a fool? The last time you demanded we spar every day was when you had hoped to work away your frustration because of how badly you wanted Lady Fanny and she was beyond your reach. Now you've married her and weeks after here we are pounding away again. You are not happy with her.”
She jerked and pressed a hand to her chest, silently urging them to see her hovering in the doorway. The will to step away was beyond her grasp, yet a part of her did not want to hear a confession where the man she was falling in love with found her lacking. Then Percy Taylor glanced up and their gazes collided. Fanny wanted to wilt with relief. This sordid conversation would now end. Instead, his lips twisted in regret and his lips parted.
He said, “You will have to procure a mistress so as not to upset your Viscountess’ sensibilities. You know it is the sensible thing to do man, or you’ll drive yourself crazy from frustration.”
She hated him violently at that moment for even suggesting something so vile. He stared at her unapologetically. Her throat ached, and her eyes burned. Fanny shifted her regard to her husband who still had no notion she waited by the doorway, her breathing suspended for his answer. He made no reply, tipping his head to the ceiling and pinching the bridge of his nose.
A bleak pain twisted through Fanny’s soul at the look of pure hunger that settled on her husband’s face.
"I do need more from Fanny. I am not at all certain it will ever happen. But I knew she was a genteel soul when I offered for her, so I must adjust my expectations. I am content.”
Even to her his words sounded hollow. She pressed trembling fingers to her lips.
"So, will you take a mistress then?" Percy asked ruthlessly, still pinning her with his golden gaze. "If your lady wife cannot satisfy your urges you know that is what you must do."
A mix of emotions assaulted her senses—pain, rage, denial, and loss. The husband she had been falling hopelessly in love with wanted another woman, for Fanny did not please him. She feared her chest would split wide open to show her crushed heart. Foolishly, she had hurtled herself impetuously into such intense feelings for him, and he found her wanting, and hadn’t even had the decency to speak with her about it, as married couples should.
“No,” came Sebastian’s flat and dismissive reply. “I would never dishonor Fanny so. I must simply suppress any desire that will likely repulse her. I couldn’t bear if she were to view me in the same manner my mother saw my father.”
Except his words of affirmation to their union were not a balm. She felt wretched, and she must have made some sound for his head snapped up, and he stiffened when he spied her, every line in his body going rigid. Fanny whirled around and hurried away, ignoring his calls. Was this how Darcy had felt? Dear God. How humiliating to think she did not satisfy his hunger, especially when he made her so happy and her soul content. However, what she lacked would drive him to another, and she would never forgive such a betrayal.
“Fanny!”
Grabbing the skirts of her dress, she lifted them and ran away, bounding up the stairs to her room. His footsteps echoed against the parquet floor as he raced after her. She shoved into her chamber, trying to close the door before he came in on her. Sebastian pushed through the door
and she slowly backed away.
“Get out, my lord.”
“No.” He only wore a trouser and was bare-chested and bare feet. He advanced as she backed away. “Let me explain, Fanny what—”
“I heard enough,” she said, her breath itching on a sob.
