silk slid smoothly beneath her fingertips, and lace as delicate as a spider’s web trimmed the neckline and wrists, a wide panel extending down the front.
“When I found you, petal, you be wearing this, wrapped in a velvet blanket as fine as any I’d seen. That is why I named you Fancy,” Da said in a gruff voice. “You looked like a wee faerie creature, and when you saw me, you stopped crying. You looked at me with big, wondering eyes and cooed. I knew then I couldn’t leave you there.”
Shock percolated through her. “But who would abandon a babe in such finery…and why?”
“May I?” Knight took the garment from her, examining it with an expert eye. “French silk, first-rate. The lace looks equally expensive, Belgian most likely.” He’d turned the gown around, pointing to a bit of embroidery on the left shoulder. “Did you see this?”
Fancy leaned in to take a closer look. The tiny, bell-shaped bloom was exquisitely rendered in shades of red and pink, flecks of yellow at its center.
She squinted at it. “Is it a rose?”
“Hard to say,” Knight replied. “Pretty though.”
Fancy’s mind was whirling. The christening gown was undoubtedly costly. Did that mean she’d come from a background of wealth, perhaps even…nobility?
She turned to her father. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before now?”
“Because I was trying to protect you.” His expression bleak, Da took a piece of paper from his pocket and gave it to her. “This be tucked in the basket next to you. Me and your ma ’ad a shopkeeper read it to us.”
Fancy took the note with trembling hands. It was yellowing at the edges, the spidery handwriting difficult to read. Beneath Knight’s gaze, she felt her cheeks warm. Her reading was improving, thanks to Bea’s lessons, but under pressure she still had to sound out the words.
“May God…watch over…this babe,” she managed to read aloud. “For ’er own safety, she must never re…return to Lon…London.”
The words sunk in.
“Why must I be kept from London?” she asked, bewildered. “Who am I?”
“I don’t know, petal,” Da said heavily. “But me and your ma, we weren’t going to risk you coming to ’arm. That’s why we stayed away from London all these years. And that’s why I didn’t want you marrying Knighton: I knew ’e would take you there and deliver you into the arms o’ danger.”
“Fancy will come to no harm,” Knight said. “You have my word.”
Although his statement was calm, it had the lethality of a honed blade.
“I can’t stop you from going to London. But now that you be knowing the truth,” Da said heavily, “you’ll be taking extra caution with me girl, you ’ear?”
“I would take care of my wife regardless,” Knight said evenly.
My wife. Fancy didn’t miss his emphasis on the words, and his possessiveness thrilled her. Seeing the worry carved on her father’s brow, however, she reached out and took Da’s hand. She felt his calluses, the working man’s strength that had taken care of her all her life, and love for him welled.
“Don’t worry, Da.” She gave him a smile and a reassuring squeeze. “All will be fine.”
He returned her squeeze. “I ’ope you’re right, petal. By the grace o’ God, I ’ope you are.”
17
The journey to London took five days. Knowing how badly Fancy wanted to see her friend, Severin instructed his groom to make the trip as quickly as possible without compromising comfort. They drove most of the day, stopping only to refresh the horses and to stay the night at coaching inns along the way. While it wasn’t the wedding trip Severin had wanted to give his new bride, the time nonetheless seemed to fly by.
He realized that it was the first time he’d spent this much time with a female before. With Imogen, his visits had always been limited and furtive. With his mistresses, he hadn’t seen the point in lingering after the tupping.
Fancy was different.
Bedding her was sublime. Her blend of innocence and eagerness kept him in a perpetual state of arousal. Although she was inexperienced, she showed no shame about the pleasure she found at her husband’s touch. She wasn’t coy, didn’t play games, and it made Severin want to fuck her constantly. It was a good thing she had no trouble napping in the carriage for he kept her up at night, plowing her until she cried out her pleasure, her snug sheath milking him of his own.
But his attraction to her was about more than just