She was going to see him again tonight.  Fallon could hardly contain her exuberance.  She had seen a lot of him in the recent weeks, had delightfully danced in his arms at Almack’s.  They had met at garden parties, a social here or a soiree there, always there eyes searching for the other.  Breathlessly, Fallon would offer him a coquettish smile.  Braeden’s eyes would languidly rake over her, before he would amble over to where she stood. She would whisper her delight at seeing him.  He would murmur sweet nothings for her ears only and nobody was wiser about the raging inferno of lust between them, nobody except Louis.

‘Did you get it Louis?’  She asked her maid expectantly.

Louis nodded with a smile.  ‘I hope you will like it my lady.  The only colour the modiste had was black.’

‘”Black?”’  Fallon was disappointed.  ‘Will it suit? __ I do not believe it will.’

‘Try them on,’ Louis prompted.  ‘I think it will look attractive against your fair skin.’

‘Will he like it?’  Colour flooded Fallon’s cheeks.

‘Pray tell me, my lady, how is the earl going to get the opportunity to admire your silk chemise and bloomers at the opera?’  Louis raised her eyebrows questioningly

Fallon laughed softly.  ‘At the soiree at Lady Carissa’s, Earl Hampton told me when the lights go out, I should meet him behind the curtain.’

‘My lady!’ Louis’ hand covered her mouth.  ‘That is far too dangerous.  I shall be fired.  Infact I shall not allow you to ___.’

‘Louis, Louis, Louis,’ Fallon sighed, taking the comb to her blonde curls.  ‘You know you can’t say no to me and I have to meet him, I just have to... I want to,’ she determined with steely eyes.

‘But what if you get caught? Louis weakened. ‘You will become a social outcast.’

Fallon smiled mischievously.  ‘Isn’t that what is so thrilling… the danger of being caught,’ she grinned.

‘I swear my lady, you are not your mother’s child or Lady Emma’s sister.’

Fallon rolled her eyes, looking heavenwards.  ‘Come hurry,’ she instructed with a smile.  ‘Dress me up, my lover awaits me.’

Louis mumbled softly, fearing the worse, wishing her charge could put away her foolish notion but at the same time, knowing she could not dissuade Lady Fallon.

‘Can Lady Emma not be your chaperone tonight?’ Louis begged.

‘No!  She would not let me out of her sight and I will never get to be alone with the earl.’

Louis heaved a breath heavily.  ‘Please be careful my lady. Please, I pray do not get caught.’

‘You worry too much dear Louis,’ Fallon laughed, touching Louis’ elbows. ‘Now put up my hair,’ she smiled.

‘Oh what time will it finally start?’  Fallon complained to her friend, Lady Carissa.  She could not wait for the curtain call.  She wanted the show to start so she could be in Braeden’s arms.

Carissa laughed.  ‘Why are you so impatient?  There is still ten minutes before it can commence.  Guests are still enjoying their refreshments.’

‘I have been waiting all week for tonight,’ Fallon breathed in anticipation.

‘I know you love the opera Fallon, but you have heard this particular artist perform previously.’

Fallon smiled mischievously.  ‘Let us just say, I cannot wait for the lights to be out and for the first item to begin playing,’ her cryptic comment was lost on Carissa.

‘It is a pity,’ Carissa mentioned disappointedly, ‘that Drew got seats so far away from Hampton’s box.

‘It is,’ Fallon smirked secretly. 

She knew Braeden had deliberately let out all but two of the seats in his box so he would not have to play host to anybody tonight.  The plan was, as everybody else rushed to find their seats, she and Braeden would be the last to appear to move to their seats before clandestinely indulging in their secret rendezvous.  Fallon allowed her eyes to skirt over Braeden from beneath her long lashes.  He was in conversation with Drew, who seemed to be complaining that his horses had again lost to Braeden’s at the recent turf race.  

Fallon held her breath drinking in how attractive he was.  The cut of his coat and the smooth fit of his breeches accented his well- muscled body and her lips and fingers knew just how well.  He had the most alluring dark eyes, a straight nose, a lop-sided grin, lips that were meant for seduction, the broadest shoulders, a chest she knew first hand, was made for comfort and caressing …

‘Lady Fallon, more champagne?’ Braeden’s eyes held hers, easily deducing her train of thought.

Her eyes shifted.  She sighed softly, ‘yes please,’ she smiled and hastily dragged her eyes away from him.

‘That’s the bell you’ve been waiting for,’ Carissa nudged her elbow.

Fallon looked around and saw all the patrons, setting their glasses down, rushing to their seats.

‘You and Drew go on ahead,’ Fallon avoided Carissa’s eyes.  ‘Hampton and I will come through as soon as we are finished.’

If only Lady Carissa was able to read between the lines of innuendo.

‘Are you sure?  You were impatient for it to begin.’

‘Go,’ Fallon gently pushed Carissa towards the theatre with a smile.

‘I guess you are safe here in the public area, amongst all the other patrons,’ Carissa teased.

‘Carissa!’  Fallon’s eyes narrowed impatiently.

‘I am going,’ she grinned, accepting Drew’s arm, just as Braeden returned with Fallon’s drink.

‘Thank you,’ Fallon’s eyes held Braeden’s.  She swallowed from her glass, emptying the contents in one unladylike gulp.

Braeden laughed softly.  ‘That shall go straight to your head,’ he looked boyish all of a sudden. 

She smiled.  ‘I believe the show has started,’ she prompted.

‘Shall we?’ He offered her his arm, leading her towards the general direction of the theatre, but before they could enter the darkened room, Braeden furtively pulled her behind the thick velvet wine red curtains.

She looked adorable, her striking gown, a whisper of gold satin, adding a warm glow to her face.  ‘We should next aim for a bed with crisp linen sheets,’ he murmured, even while his fingers feathered her elbows.   Her sapphire blue eyes shone with bright intensity.  Her heart pounded in her ear.  She smiled with such an agreeable smile, that he was certain, she was not in agreement at all.

‘For now this must do,’ she reached for him, winding her arms around his neck.

Her soft mouth clung to him, until her lips parted, meeting his experimentally, her mouth warm, seeking.  He responded to her kiss until his lips shifted and roamed her face, her throat, pushing at the gown from her shoulder.  His tongue teased at the column of her throat, sending a tremor along her body.  A fire raged within her uncontrollably. 

His hands crushed her to him.  He whispered sweet words caressingly into her ear.  Fallon drew back slightly to look into the dark pools of his eyes.  She smiled into his eyes, her own heavy with passion.  Her mouth met his again with urgent hunger.  Her body craved intimacy with him, her breasts strained against the confines of her stays, her nipples bruising against the cool cloth of her satin gown.  His head lifted, his mouth captured her lips briefly.  His fingers feathered ever so gently on her throat.  His lips moved lower, his fingers worrying at the bows of her gown.  Hastily it was loosened to grant him access.  Fallon kept her eyes open, wanting to see his expression when he saw the alluring under garments.  She was not disappointed.  There was explicit hunger in his eyes. 

‘Exquisite,’ he groaned, his eyes raking over the black silk chemise admiringly.  His lips pressed soft kisses over the silk, burning up her breasts.  ‘It is tempting as sin.’

She laughed appreciatively, drawing him closer, her fingers entangling in his crisp, wavy hair.  Braeden’s fingers slipped beneath the silk cloth, stroking her breasts.  His thumbs teased the already hardened nipples.

Fallon moaned softly.  Hastily her fingers stumbled with the buttons on his shirt, freeing it from his breeches, begging access to his flesh.  His mouth sought hers again.  His hand lifted the hem of her gown.  His fingers feathered over her bare skin until they touched the silk drawers.  He groaned hoarsely. 

‘You will be the death of me my sweet lady.’

The look he gave her was pure male, sending her pulses racing.  His eyes darkened appreciatively his mouth sucking her breasts. ‘Fallon, ‘he groaned as his mouth sucked her breasts through the silk fabric.  He parted her gown, his tongue, hungrily taking its fill of her aroused nipples.  Fallon knew she had to halt their coupling, but his fiery touch undermined her composure.

‘Braeden ___.’

Her voice came out in a husky squeak, she knew he heard, he smiled wickedly.   Her breath came out in a sharp gasp.  A blaze of fire coursed through her intimate parts anticipating the sensual delight of his probing fingers.

‘I am sorry,’ she sighed, reluctantly dropping her arms from around him.  ‘We should go in, before somebody will notice our absence.’

His lips taunted the flesh at her throat.  ‘I don’t want to,’ his fingers were like a steel band at her waist.

Neither did she, but Louis’ words returned to haunt her.  ‘We will meet again,’ her mouth closed over his, stealing a quick kiss.

‘Soon,’ he demanded.

‘Yes,’ she promised in agreement, hastily setting her gown right again.  ‘I should like it if we could visit Vauxhall Gardens,’ she requested.

Braeden nodded, cupping her cheeks and pressing his lips to hers.  ‘I shall send you a note,’ he promised.

When they were departing the opera house, Carissa caught up with Fallon.  ‘I didn’t notice you entering until the show was already in full swing,’ Carissa observed.

‘Really?’  Fallon’s cheeks warmed up.  ‘I wanted to go to the rest room and Hampton insisted on waiting outside for me,’ she lied.

‘It was enthralling, was it not?’  Carissa smiled.

‘It certainly was,’ Fallon agreed, though she was not referring to the show.

‘I am truly glad, we are in Hampton’s carriage,’ Carissa appreciated the luxury of Braeden’s more spacious, comfortable and warmer carriage.

Fallon smiled.  Everything about Braeden spelt, luxury creature comforts and definitely pleasure.

At breakfast the next morning, the baroness enquired about the opera.  Fallon was at a loss for words. She had missed much of the first show and during the second show, she had been spinning fancies about her tête-à-tête with Braeden instead of enjoying the show.

‘It was lovely mama,’ she lied.

The baroness nodded approvingly.  ‘You are in the company with the earl a lot these days,’ she commented, quite happy with the development, considering her younger daughter had cried of marriage.

If only you knew… Fallon’s cheeks flushed.  She shrugged her shoulders, non-committally when her mother expected a reply.

A month of Sundays had passed since Braeden had ravished Fallon in the darkness at the opera, but frustratingly, no opportunity presented itself for a repeat performance.    They met often at the same social events, but were unable to find a single opportunity to steal away for some private intimacy.  He was beside himself, wild with desire and in need of her special brand of loving.  He wanted no other.  He knew there was no other solution and so called on the Lady Fallon.

‘Good morning,’ she smiled breathlessly as she led him to the sunflower room.  Her body temperature soared.  The nerves in her body tingled with wanton lust.

‘Good morning my lady,’ he bowed and kissed her hand.  ‘Good morning Louis,’ Braeden was loathed to have a conversation in the presence Fallon’s maid.

He continued to look in the direction of the maid, who reluctantly got the hint and went to stand at the far corner of the room, out of earshot.

Braeden took her hands in his, ‘I miss you,’ he laced his fingers through hers.

‘And I you,’ she whispered, admiring how fetching he looked in his dark expensive suit and black shiny Hessians.  His white linen shirt clung to his muscular frame.

‘Fallon, I think we should wed.’

‘I beg your pardon!’  Her eyes widened surprisingly.  She had never expected an offer from Braeden.  She knew he had no desire whatsoever to be trapped into marriage. Now he was suggesting they marry with no words of love…when she loved him with all her heart.

He wanted her in his bed, there was no other way.  He found the idea of being leg-shackled abhorrent.  Not to mention his grandmère was becoming indignant with her constant demands for him to present her with a countess.

‘I said we should wed.’

‘Why?’

‘You could be with child from our coupling!’ he murmured softly.  ‘Besides, I need to marry and produce an heir and you and I suit,’ he finished.

So he does not hold me in regard.  Duty is all I am to him.  Duty to his earldom and an unborn child… not that I am with child.  I shall marry for love and only for love.  Well he must love me too… she determined.  Her eyes raged glacially with fury as she answered him.

‘Lord Hampton.  Thank you for your considerate offer, but I am not interested.  Good bye.’

Fallon left him standing there and stormed out of the room to her own chamber.

‘I am going riding with Sir Neels this afternoon,’ Fallon informed her mother as they enjoyed luncheon.

‘Very well dear.  If your sister and Burward are not going with, make sure Louis can chaperone you.’

‘Yes mama,’ Fallon nodded.  She would much prefer to be with Braeden, but if he did not love her back, she wanted nothing to do with the lecherous swine.

Braeden had not expected Fallon to be out when he had called at the Fulham’s residence, that very afternoon.  In fact he had been certain she would have been eagerly anticipating his unannounced visit.  He was incensed then, to establish that the chit had gone riding with Orway of all the gentlemen in the ton.  On the spur of the moment, Braeden duly informed the butler, he wished to see Baron Fulham.

‘Hampton, good day,’ the baron smiled, unconcerned that the Earl of Hampton was at his door without notice.  ‘This is a pleasant surprise,’ he invited Braeden into the drawing room, and poured him a drink.

‘Good afternoon.  I wish to make an offer for your daughter,’ Braeden announced before his nerves got the better of him.’

The baron laughed uneasily as he handed Braeden a whisky.  ‘You are late.  She has already accepted an offer.’

A cold shiver washed over Braeden.  Fury laced his eyes but he quickly masked it.  He relaxed his fingers around the glass, before he splintered it to smithereens.

Damn that annoying; irresistible wench.  I’ll call the gentleman out.  She is mine!

‘Who is it?’ Braeden asked in a barely concealed tone of anger.

‘Burward, of course.’

Braeden’s eyebrows rose in confusion.  ‘Is Lady Emma not betrothed to Burward?’

‘Yes, I thought it was Emma you’re offering for.’

‘No.’ Braeden shook his head.  Calm quickly filling his insides again.  ‘It is your younger daughter, I wish to offer for.’

‘Hah!  Now that is a delicate matter,’ the baron laughed again, tensely.

Braeden did not like the sound of that.  ‘How so?’  He was losing his patience and swallowed his whisky.

‘Have you made an offer to Lady Fallon?’

‘She won’t accept me,’ Braeden replied evasively.

The baron shook his head, containing his mirth.

‘Baron, what humours you so?’  Braeden rose, taking the liberty to refill his own glass.

‘Lady Fallon has had a mind of her own since she was three summers young.  Neither I nor her mother could get her to do anything she did not want to.  Just two months ago, she categorically informed me she has no desire to wed, so I do not know how you are going to succeed.’

‘I see,’ Braeden nursed his glass, his thoughts, as was constantly the case these days, strayed to the rebellious Lady Fallon. 

He sat down again, forcing himself to relax against the backrest of the sofa.  He pursed his lips.  He did not want her spending time with other gentlemen.  ‘Baron Fulham, I mean to have Lady Fallon as my wife,’ Braeden vowed.

The baron raised his eyebrows curiously.  ‘I believe every maiden in the ton would give her right arm to be your countess.  I am reliably informed that you are not short of choices.  Some are exceedingly attractive and more, who will bring considerable wealth to your earldom.’

Braeden did not answer immediately.  He allowed his mind to wander on the many debutants that were only too willing to receive his offer, but not a single one appealed to him.  ‘You are right,’ he nodded.  ‘I do have plenty of choices,’ he agreed though not arrogantly, ‘but I have made up my mind, there is only one that I want,’ he finally smiled.

The baron’s eyes searched Braeden’s face.  The unflinching, determined look in Braeden’s eyes assured him of all he needed to know.  ‘Well, I have a ___ suggestion.  Perhaps you will consider it.’

‘What is it?’  Braeden looked skeptically at the baron.

The baron leaned closer and spoke softly close to Braeden’s ear.  Braeden’s eyebrows shot up.  His eyes widened disbelievingly.

‘You think Lady Fallon will agree?’

‘I will agree to what?’  Fallon walked into the drawing room unannounced. 

She tried to bank the desire rushing through her body seeing Braeden stretched on the sofa, looking dashing and so attractive.  It was so long since she had been in his arms…in the dark , stolen moments of pleasure and she was hungry for him again and clearly he felt the same way, if she was reading those dark eyes accurately.

She had seen his carriage parked outside and her heart had been ecstatic, even though she should be angry with him.  She had hurriedly handed her horse to one of the grooms and had rushed inside, still in her riding habit. 

Braeden stood up.  He held his breath.  She looked adorable.  Her wind tousled hair falling over her face, she held her bonnet in her hand.  She smelt of fresh air mixed with her familiar scent of lavender.  He wanted to take her into his arms.  The hen-wit went bloody gallivanting with Orway without a chaperone!

Fallon looked from one’s face to the other.  Neither was volunteering any information. 

‘Good afternoon Lady Fallon,’ Braeden lifted her palm and greeted her with a courteous kiss to the back of her hand.

Her heart leapt.  ‘What will I agree to?’  She asked again.

Braeden remained quiet.  Her father spoke quickly into the silent atmosphere.  ‘Lord Hampton has to take a trip away.  The countess is not fairing too well.  ‘I suggested you could call on her.’  The baron’s eyes shifted nervously from his daughter to Braeden.

‘Oh,’ Fallon’s eyes were filed with concern.  ‘What is wrong with her?’ 

Braeden could hardly believe the baron could lie so blatantly to his daughter.  ‘Best you ask grandmère,’ Braeden replied evasively.  He did not want to be an accomplice to the baron’s yarn spinning.

Fallon’s eyes briefly met with Braeden’s.  She assumed he was uncomfortable discussing his grandmother’s ill-health.  But then he was surely not short of hired help to nurse his grandmother.  Fallon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.  She knew Braeden had a large contingent of staff on hand.  Why would he want her attending to his grandmother?  The oaf was giving nothing away.

‘Very well,’ she nodded.  ‘Would you like me to call on the countess, tomorrow morning?’

‘That would be agreeable,’ Braeden nodded, amazed at how easily everything was falling into place.

Eleven would be the appropriate hour to visit, but this would not be a social call.  ‘Tell her I will arrive at nine.’

           -end chapter sixteen-