Fair and True Love

P.S. This is a continuation of the 'My Fair Lady' Series. I must credit and give abundant thanks to Trudy Jas for this romantic interlude. She was able to bring the right Regency flare to this saga. Very few of these words are mine. She is the genius behind it. Thank you ,Trudy. Sincerely, Mary Bendickson.

Fair and True Love

Sir Riley was both in seventh heaven and at the seventh gate of hell. His mind, one of his finer traits, a feature he had been proud of, was failing him. His wits having borne him through academia, withstanding taunts from those born of higher rank and eventually being offered the respectable position of solicitor. Yes, he had dreamed of becoming a barrister, donning a wig and robe and striding with importance and assertiveness through a court of law. But so be it.

Through diligence and perseverance, he had, beyond his wildest dreams, been allowed to court Miss Charity Farnsworth. In his dreams he relived the times he had seen her, when he had dared to speak to her and even offer his arm. He remembered when she had smiled and demurely lowered her lashes, a small, enticing smile toying at the corners of her plump lips. Those lips, the ones that haunt his dreams, the ones he sees in every brief he is supposed to study, the ones he sees in every serif and flourish of penmanship. Those lips.

And when she had raised her flawless face, allowed him to gaze onto her, he shudders at the memory, her cerulean eyes perfectly embraced by dark feathered lashes.

He would give everything to… to just…

“Are you ready?” Carlton, his friend and partner in mishap peeks around the door. Riley nods. Too nervous to speak. To agitated to keep his fingers off his perfectly tied cravat.

“You my friend are a right mess.” Carlton sighs.

Riley whimpers and nods.

Twenty minutes later sees them entering the Baroness’s townhouse.

Riley, both eager and petrified to see Lady Charity again, scans the room for a waiter carrying glasses of champagne. Carlton, however, drags him straight to the ladies they are looking for.

“Countess Honeyfield.” Carlton bows over the delectable dowager’s hand. “A true pleasure to see you this evening and may I be so bold and say that you look ravishing.”

The dowager’s fan flutters, her eyes sparkle, her laugh is music to his ears.

“You remember my esteemed and dear friend and colleague, Sir Riley Fenwick.”

“Sir Carlton, such a delight to see you here tonight. Yes, I do remember your friend, Sir Riley. May I present my niece and protégé Lady Charity Farnsworth. You may remember her from the town fair. Such a lovely event that was. And of course, we saw you at the hunt.”

Riley had stopped listening to the Dowager at ‘May I present’. His eyes had landed on her, clad in a delicate froth of some indescribable delectable color, her skin aglow in the candle light, her crowning glory a halo of gold with sparkly things woven among the curls.

“Lady Farnsworth.” He sighed. “You look ravishing, as always. I have so looked forward to seeing you again. May I be so forward and ask if you will reserve a dance for me tonight?”

He held his breath. Had he been too forward? Too impetuous? Did he overstep?

Her smile, the one he had dreamed about, the one that had clouded his vision for days, told him what he wanted to know.

She agreed to a gavotte and a reel and finally, though custom frowned on a man and woman dancing more than two dances in one night, she eagerly agreed to a waltz before supper.

Riley, though closer to seventh heaven could still feel the gates of hell behind him.

“Lady Charity.” He whispered. “Will you meet me in the garden after supper? I know it’s presumptuous of me, but …” She shushed him by squeezing his left hand.

“I know I shouldn't but I will. Don't tell anyone.” She whispered back.

Riley, though usually endowed with a healthy appetite, forwent supper. Fortified with one, maybe two brandies, he paced the terrace throughout the supper hour.

A vision. A vision in frothy fabric, topped with a halo of golden curls slipped out of a side door. “Sir Riley?” the vision whispered.

“My Darling, my Lady Charity.” He stepped forward from the shadows holding out his hand to her.

Charity did not hesitate to take his hand, she eagerly led him down the three steps into the dimly-lit garden.

“This way.” She urged. He followed without hesitation.

Once out of the light spilling from the windows and the small lanterns on the terrace, Charity turned around.

Without waiting for a by your lief, Riley lowered his head and claimed her mouth. His heart, his soul, and let’s be honest, the rest of his body, rejoiced. His blood flowed as if it had been waiting for the taste of her lips, the scent of her, the feel and shape of her. His lungs constricted and expanded in ways he didn’t know was possible. His hands with a will of their own roamed over her, feeling the smooth fabric covering her breasts, sneaking underneath and cupping one, flowing downward and gripping her buttock while pressing it against his need.

“Cha…” He sighed when he gasped for air. “Charity.” And dove in for another bit of nourishment.

Two, five, ten minutes passed before passion became treasuring, tasting, remembering.

“Charity…” Riley, his head resting against the side of hers, knew what he wanted to say, but didn’t dare believe that he had the right.

“Riley?” Charity pulled back and looked up into his eyes.

“Can you,” Riley breathed. “My Love, imagine like I do, to feel this way forever? Can you, my Lady, my Princess, imagine being held by me for more than one night, for many nights? Till death intervenes and maybe, if we are lucky, beyond.

“Oh, Riley!” She sighed a smile. “Yes, I can. I dream. I wish...”

Riley stepped away and with hand rubbing his chin started pacing. “We've seen each other now and again throughout the past couple of months. Do you suppose it would be too soon to approach your father for the privilege of asking for your hand in marriage? I don't want to assume too much or be so forward that I destroy any chance at all to win his grace and favor.”

He moved back to embrace her once again. “I can't function without you anymore. I'm so deeply in love with you I am going to do it. I am going to talk to your father. Tonight! Right now!”

“You are going to talk to me about what, Young Man?”

“Oh, Lord Farnsworth! We didn't hear you approaching. I, uh, we were just discussing...”

“You have your hands all over my daughter quite inappropriately and just discussing what? The warm weather we are having? Charity, you are dismissed to your room.”

“But, Father. You misunderstand. I, we... We're in love. I love him, Father.”

“That will be enough! We'll discuss this later. This rogue is leaving. Now!”

Those gates slammed resoundingly behind poor Riley.