on the armchair of one of the sofas and considered the admission she was about to make to her friends.
Ophelia’s eyes narrowed. “Out with it, you are fairly bursting at the seams!”
“I am not terribly certain of the rules governing affairs, but I am thinking about having one.”
The teacup on the way to Fanny’s mouth froze. “Having one of what?”
Ophelia gave a perceptible start. “What kind of affair?” she breathed.
Maryann tilted her head to one side, considering the point. “There are many kinds?”
“An affaire de coeur?” Ophelia asked.
It was so daring, it frightened her. “Yes.”
Fanny’s cup clattered onto the table. “With the marquess?”
“Which one?” Maryann asked with a spurt of devilry. “If you are thinking Lord Rothbury, the very one.”
Fanny looked ready to faint, then she rallied and said, “Reformed rakes do make the best husbands. I have no notion who started that nonsense, but it is that very belief why so many ladies would still marry him despite his dissipated lifestyle.”
“But that is it, Fanny, I do not think he was ever a rake. He has layers to him the world has never seen. There is more to him than his reputation. I am certain of it and I am so very intrigued by him.”
“Oh dear,” Fanny cried, properly alarmed. “You have fallen under his spell and have been deceived of his true nature. You are so very sensible, Maryann, so why have you deserted your senses?”
She laughed. “I am acting no less naughty than Kitty! She went off to Scotland to be with His Grace unchaperoned! I daresay the days she spent there were not steeped in innocence but perhaps in debauchery.”
Fanny blushed fiercely, while Ophelia chuckled, handing Maryann a cup of tea.
“You are distressing Fanny’s sensibilities.”
Their friend sniffed, but amusement glinted in her warm light-blue eyes. “Stop acting as if you are more worldly than I am. I have been kissed twice!”
Maryann choked on the first sip of her tea. “When? And with who? I thought we shared everything?”
“Ladies,” Ophelia called, laughing, “we are digressing.” She inhaled gently, and the somber expression in her eyes had Maryann frowning.
“What is it?”
“You mentioned Kitty…do you hope the outcome with Lord Rothbury the same Kitty experienced with her duke? That you might form an attachment and eventually marry?”
The hunger that clawed up inside of Maryann shocked her, and the hand that lowered the teacup trembled. All the longings she had thought buried under disillusion surged into her heart with the ferocity of a battering storm.
“I am being fanciful and reckless,” she gasped, hating that tears pricked in her eyes.
She was not a silly miss to descend into tears and vapors at the slightest provocation. “He has not even kissed me…and here I am speaking about affairs and whatnot! I feel foolish.”
Fanny came over and tugged Maryann to sit beside her. “It is not foolish to dream, Maryann. You have told me this so many times.”
“I feel tossed about on churning waves, uncertain of any direction in life. Fanny, you are the most incredibly talented painter and you have a grand ambition to be known for it one day. Ophelia, you have a hidden identity, an entirely different life, and I can tell you know what wicked path you’ll be pursing. Sometimes I feel that what I want cannot be known to me!”
“What about a family?” Fanny asked wistfully, painful longing in her eyes. “Your own home to manage and not to live by the whims of others who control how you eat and the clothes you wear.”
A silence that felt heavy lingered.
Then Maryann said quietly, “I do want a family…children, a husband who I will love.” The ache in her chest became a physical thing, and there was no ease in its tightening grip. “I want my husband to love me breathlessly. I want him to take me sailing, and he won’t mind that I am exceptionally good at fencing, that I can ride astride and might best him in archery. I want a man who wants to hear my opinions on political matters as well as the latest gossip! I want a man who challenges me but allows me to challenge him right back. Maybe even a husband who would take me to a gambling den! I do not want a piece of what I hope for…I want it all,” she ended with a groan, covering her face. “And maybe, just maybe I could have it with the marquess, because I have never met anyone who rouses me so.”
Emerging