In My Wildest Fantasies by Julianne MacLean Page B

his jaded outlook on love and marriage--Lady Letitia would be a good choice as well, in a completely different way. With her, it would be easy to become a husband, yet change very little about the way he lived. He could remain detached.
    With that in mind, he decided he would do well to keep his options open.
    Chapter 8
    The following evening, Rebecca dressed in a formal off-the-shoulder gown of deep blue satin with sapphire jewels and long white gloves, and sat with Aunt Grace in the music room, waiting for the classical quartette to begin playing.
    Quietly, she gazed around the room--at the musicians with their instruments and music stands in front of them, at the shiny parquet floor beneath her feet, and finally up at the dazzling brass chandelier over her head. It was quiet in the room except for a few hushed murmurs of conversation toward the back.
    "I must admit something, Aunt Grace," she said. "I feel rather dishonest under these circumstances. I came here because I want Lord Hawthorne as my husband, yet I wish to escape another man I do not wish to marry. That, above all, is what has brought me here so hastily. I wish I could simply tell him the truth about my life."
    Her aunt clasped her hand. "You simply cannot ask a man to marry you in order to do you a favor. He must want to marry you, preferably because he loves you. And if he does, it will be his greatest desire to protect you from every unpleasant thing in the world, whether it is Mr. Rushton or a bumblebee flying around your bonnet. That is when you will be able to tell him everything, dearest, and he will embrace every challenge you represent."
    "Let us hope it will come to that."
    She checked over her shoulder and saw Lord Hawthorne enter the room with his sister, Lady Charlotte.
    "There he is," her aunt said, "and I must say, he is looking very handsome. Good gracious."
    Tonight he wore a fine black evening jacket with white waistcoat and tie, and his dark, wavy hair was slicked back, gleaming in the lamplight. The style accentuated the strong, rugged lines of his face.
    He met Rebecca's gaze and inclined his head at her. She smiled in return, then faced front again, struggling to overcome the uncontrollable beat of her heart when the evening had only just begun.
    "Oh, Aunt Grace, who am I trying to deceive?" she said. "I want to marry him for love and a grand passion, nothing else. I want the fairy tale with my charming, handsome hero. Mr. Rushton does not even exist for me now that I am here."
    Her aunt leaned close and whispered, "I assure you, my dear, Mr. Rushton does exist, and he could be searching for you at this very moment. For that reason, it is imperative that you do what you must to secure the man you really want. A man who can protect you."
    "Do what I must..."
    "Yes," her aunt plainly replied, flicking open her fan and fluttering it in front of her face. "You saw what Lady Letitia resorted to in the conservatory yesterday."
    "Are you suggesting I should pretend to swoon? I couldn't, Aunt Grace. I would feel like a fool."
    "That is not what I am talking about. You know what I mean, do you not?" She raised an eyebrow.
    Thanks to Lydie's most illustrative diary, Rebecca had a feeling she knew exactly what her aunt was referring to.
    "You must touch his arm once with your closed fan when you are speaking to him," Aunt Grace whispered.
    Touch his arm with her fan. "That is all?"
    "What do you mean, that is all? It is a very bold maneuver."
    If that was what most women considered bold, Rebecca was definitely out of touch with what went on in society. Clearly, she had been reading too much lately about sin and debauchery and the pleasures of the flesh. It was a very wicked pastime. She should stop, she really should.
    She glanced over her shoulder at Lord Hawthorne, and felt that familiar stirring of desire, warm and intoxicating, heady and erotic...
    Clicking open her fan, she sighed, because she knew the minute she returned to her room, she would