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Chapter 11
This morning, the air was slightly warmer, the sun a bit brighter, and the birds chirped more merrily. Fanny cast a quick side glance at Simon, who stood beside her, staring out at the beauty of the lake. She had not known this quiet, reflective side of him before, but she found that she liked it. A day’s growth of whiskers only emphasized the strong cut of his jaw, and it only heightened his handsomeness.
“Fran,” he murmured, “would you permit me to meet our daughter?”
“Yes.” Fanny had already made arrangements with Nicholas to bring Lily to the cottage on day seven.
Simon's broad shoulders relaxed, and he released a heavy breath. He had been worried she would deny him.
“She is close by, at our family home in Penport.”
“Good,” he said.
She noted there was a smile about his mouth, and Fanny glanced away, smiling herself. What would it be like when they met? Lily was too young to understand that she’d lacked a papa in her life. Especially with the abundant love and attention she received from her uncles. Still, Fanny had regaled her with stories about her heroic father, who would one day return home on a white steed. As Lily got older, Fanny had planned to explain that her father had died honorably in the war and that he loved her very much.
Simon picked up a stone and skipped it across the water, creating several ripples. “I am very tempted to take a swim.”
“Why don’t you?”
He frowned. “I get the sense that once you want to do something, Fanny, you simply do it.”
“Is that not the point of living? To enjoy one’s life?”
“A very simplistic outlook.”
“More like a very freeing point of view.” She lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “If you wish to swim…do so; why should you consider the dictates of propriety. I contend there is nothing at all proper about our situation.”
His eyes crinkled faintly at the corners. “Ah, so you do comprehend my thoughts.”
“Of course, you would very much like to strip from your clothes and dive into the water, but I am perplexed about why you are worried about my sensibilities, the ones that you have already so perfectly corrupted,” she drawled, humor rich in her tone.
He gave her a long, cool, assessing look. “That I do not recall this corruption bears significant weight on my thoughts and actions.”
“I am happy to jolt your memory,” she teased, closing the short distance between them.
His slow smile was unexpectedly sensual and intimate. “I’m quite fine, Miss Fairbanks.”
Fanny grinned and used her finger to tease a button on his jacket. “Whenever you think carnal thoughts about me, Simon, you become very proper. You’ve always ‘Miss Fairbanks’ me right before you kiss…and have your wicked way with me.”
“Have I?”
“Oh yes, I am delighted to know some things remain the same.” She raised herself up slightly and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He shuddered, and she did not imagine the soft groan that emanated from him. Knowing it was the last thing he anticipated, Fanny shoved with all her strength, toppling him into the lake.
He landed with a great splash but was quick to surface. She laughed at the slack-jawed shock on his face.
“There, now you can enjoy your swim.” Fanny laughed even harder. “Oh, Simon, you should see your face.”
That laughter died when his gaze narrowed in retribution. It belatedly occurred to her that this version of him might not like playing. Oh, dear. He waded toward the bank and hauled himself up. Acting on instinct, Fanny whirled around, grabbed the edges of her dress, and darted off. A quick glance behind her revealed that Simon pursued her. With a shriek of laughter, Fanny ran even harder, cursing when her shoes slid on the grass. She wasted precious moments to toeoff the shoes before sprinting off.
He caught her about the waist and slung her over his shoulder.
“Simon!” she cried. “Put me down.”
He ignored her and marched toward the lake.
“I am very sorry,” she cried, kicking her feet to no avail.
“I am sure you are,” he muttered, “because I caught you, you little hellion.”
