'Fallon, what are you doing in your chamber? Why are you not downstairs with me?' Emma's eyes were filled with concern as she gently rested her hand on Fallon's shoulder.

'Oh I am sorry Em, but father has banished me to my chamber,' her apology was made in somewhat of an enraptured tone.

'"Banished?" So why are you not brooding like you normally would?'

Fallon laughed as she spun her shoulders about carelessly. 'Papa and a certain patroness caught Hampton and I kissing and ___.'

'What! You and Lord Hampton ___! Fallon you can't even stomach the earl ___. I don't understand ___. Good heavens! The patroness saw you? Oh Fallon you are so ruined,' Fallon snorted riotously as she saw the flight of emotions on her sister's troubled face. Emma paced about the chamber in anguish. 'Lord Hampton is going to be a dead man tomorrow morning Fallon and I am certain you deliberately engineered that scenario.

'You apportion far too much investment in Hampton's propriety Em.'

'You loathe him that much that you would rob him of his life?'

Fallon smiled happily, none too concerned about her sister's accusation or Braden's fate. She shrugged indifferently. Emma's eyes narrowed accusingly. Fallon could not be bothered to justify that it was Braeden that had took her into his arms. It was he that had initiated the kiss, not she ... although Fallon was guilty of not putting up any resistance. On the contrary how could she have, when she shamelessly desired him as she did, when the attraction between them was so explosively volatile?

'Oh Fallon,' tears filed Emma's eyes. The entire ton will be talking about you by tomorrow,' she placed her hands restrainingly on Fallon's shoulders, for Fallon was fiddling, uncaringly with her hair. 'You will not be able to show your face. You know how cruel they are. What are you going to do?'

'Wed the rake,' Fallon announced apathetically.

Emma's eyes widened like saucers. 'You will wed with the earl? I thought you had no desire to be married ___.'

'Do calm down Em, before you die of heart failure,' Fallon laughed.

'"Calm down!" And how can you be so calm? Do you not realize ___?'

'Emma! Papa gave Braeden an ultimatum. Either he offer for me or face a duel at dawn ___ as you rightly predicted.'

Emma's jaw dropped. '"Braeden?" You are that familiar?'

Emma's cheeks turned a bright crimson and surprisingly not Fallon's. Instead Fallon smiled coquettishly, her eyes hinting at the extent of her intimate relationship with Braeden.

'Good heavens Fallon! When ___. I am speechless!'

Fallon laughed heartily. 'You are anything but speechless Em. You have been firing at me, a mile a minute.'

Emma smiled for the first time, since she walked into Fallon's chamber. 'Are you telling me, you are ___ not a ___ no longer a ___.

'Fallon chuckled softly. 'I have not told you anything ___ yet.' She led Emma to her bed.

'But yes, Em,' Fallon draped her arm lovingly around her sister's shoulder. 'I did lay with Braeden,' she smiled dreamily, 'and it was wonderful, spectacular, thrilling and ___.'

'Fallon!'

Fallon chortled. 'You are such a goody two shoes Em. Have you not been once tempted with Arthur?' She teased.

'No!' Emma stood up. 'Never,' she narrowed her eyes at her younger sister. 'Besides, Lord Burward is a gentleman. He would never entertain such an impropriety.'

Fallon exhaled laboriously. 'That is the difference between you and I Em,' Fallon walked about her chamber. 'I care not for the ton's conventions. I care not to save my virtue for a sod of a lord, who would only marry me for the sake of an heir and a spare and then abandon me to pasture in the country, whilst he cavorts with his Cytherean prime articles in the beau monde.

'Fallon! Mind your language!'

'Why?' Fallon hissed. 'No one is listening, but you. And I am correct, am I not?'

'Papa is not that way,' Emma defended.

Fallon looked away. 'How would you know? Papa is often away. You are not present with him at all times. How do you know he has not entertained mistresses?'

Emma lowered her head. 'I do not know it Fallon and neither is it my business or yours, but papa loves mama and he is home every night.'

'Who said coupling only occurs at night? It didn't with Braeden and I.'

'Fallon!' Emma's face coloured profusely again.

'Fallon giggled. 'Em___ do not be such a prig. Very soon you will go to Arthur's bed___.'

'Only after we have wed,' Emma cut her sister off.

'Indeed,' Fallon smiled.

Emma cleared her voice. 'When exactly did you and Lord Hampton ___, you know?'

Fallon threw her head back and laughed. 'You are already too disgusted with me, Em. I shall save you further embarrassment. Let us rejoin your betrothal party,' she tucked her arm into Emma's.

'I thought you said papa banished you to your room!'

'Papa is not expecting me to follow his instruction. Besides he looked pleased as punch, to finally pass his younger daughter over to somebody else's care.'

'Fallon! Papa loves you very much. You have always been his favourite, you know.'

'"Favourite?" Hah! He only ever gave me my way, because he found my demands tiresome.'

Emma laughed as they entered the ball room. Nothing seemed amiss. The celebration was in full swing. Fallon observed her parents deep in conversation. The baroness's eyes held concern. No such emotion could be leveled at the baron. Fallon was not too surprised to note that the officious patroness was no longer amongst the guests. She smiled to herself, elated that her destiny had irrevocably and intrinsically been shaped tonight

Fallon saw her mama approaching and wished there was somewhere for her to escape to. Her eyes shifted around the room uncomfortably, focusing everywhere but to her mama.

'Fallon,' the baroness spoke softly in a polite but strained tone. 'Your papa has informing me of the rather disturbing predicament you have put yourself in.'

Fallon wished she had a glass of something in her hand. She longed for the soothing effect of a strong alcoholic beverage. She looked away, attempting to reduce the debilitating stare her mother laced her with.

'How could you have allowed such a ruinous situation to happen, right here in our home, when guests are present Fallon? And worse with a gentleman you have no regard for!' Her mother's soft murmur demanded anxiously.

I love him.

'Mama, Hampton has offered for me,' Fallon answered patiently. 'So I think the "ruinous situation" is somewhat contained.'

'But now you are forced to wed a gentleman you have no feelings for. Your fate has become sealed Fallon!' Her mama whispered frantically.

'Mama,' Fallon's patience was wearing thin. 'I do have some feelings for the earl or I would not have kissed him.'

The baroness's jaw dropped to her chest. She could not comprehend how or when her daughter had developed any feelings for the Earl of Hampton.

'I am going to greet Lady Carissa,' Fallon made her escape before the baroness could utter another word.

'Fallon, the earl is downstairs,' Emma shook her sister, in an attempt to rouse the sleeping beauty.

'What!' Fallon jumped up. 'What hour is it?' She hastened out of her bed.

'Nine o' clock.'

"'Nine" ___. And papa has not killed him yet?' Given the scandal of the night before, she supposed it was urgent enough for Braeden to call at such an early hour.

Emma laughed as she opened Fallon's drawer and removed a morning gown for her sister. Excitement engulfed Fallon. She rushed into her bath chamber. She washed her face and hastily removed her night garments with Emma's help.

'Why didn't Louis wake me earlier?'

'Louis said she tried, but got no response from you.'

'Hurry Em,' Fallon impatiently waited as Emma brushed down Fallon's golden locks.

Emma studied her sister curiously. 'One is inclined to think you hold a tendre for the earl.'

'It is papa, I do not want to keep waiting,' Fallon lied.

'Indeed,' Emma smirked.

Fallon rubbed sweaty hands down the smooth muslin cloth of her morning gown. Her eyes found Braeden's as she entered her father's library. Standing tall, in front of the fireplace, he was undoubtedly a swell of the first stare, dashing in his fine long coat, silk shirt and well- polished Hessians. Fallon though him most attractive. She dragged her eyes away to greet her parent first.

'Good morning papa. Morning my lord,' her eyes returned to Braeden.

'Good morning Fallon,' her father greeted unsmilingly, from behind his desk.

Braeden glanced over his betrothed in a leisurely sweeping move. He could not believe how easily things were falling into place. He should have compromised her sooner. He was impatient for Fallon to become his wife. She looked irresistibly beautiful this morning in a bright sapphire gown clinging to her shapely hips. Her shiny wheat coloured hair attracted him most. It was opened, save for the pretty pink ribbon that held it together like a band on her head. Braeden held his breath. He longed to touch her...to run his fingers through the silk strands of her hair and smell its fruity perfumed scent. He quickly slipped his fingers deep into his pockets.

'Do have a seat Lady Fallon,' Braeden walked towards her father's desk and held out the chair for her.

'Thank you,' she politely accepted.

'Now,' the baron leaned back in his chair authoritatively, 'shall we discuss ___.'

'I should like to take Lady Fallon riding, before our discussion,' Braeden interrupted.

Fallon's heart exploded with eager anticipation. She would much rather go riding than face her parent at this moment, but it seemed the baron was not in agreement.

'We have far more pressing matters to address, Hampton,' the baron uttered.

'Nothing that cannot wait an hour, Baron Fulham,' Braeden smiled courteously at the baron, whilst he held out his hand to assist Fallon out of the chair he'd only moments ago offered her. The baron was not pleased, judging from his unsmiling face.

'I am not dressed for riding,' Fallon pointed out to Braeden.

Braeden smiled admiringly. His eyes travelled lazily up and down the length of her beautiful gown. 'You will do just fine, my lady' he murmured. 'I have a phaeton outside.'

'Oh, that is magnificent,' Fallon forgot the trouble she was in with her father. The smile quickly disappeared from her face when her father loudly cleared his throat.

'Where is that inept maid of yours, Fallon?' Her father questioned. 'She hardly seems effective in her duties.'

'I do believe she is in the kitchen, papa,' Fallon murmured.

'Very well. Take her with you and remind her, she is your chaperone.'

'Yes papa.'

'We shall meet in an hour, Hampton,' the baron spoke assertively.

Fallon could not keep her eyes of Braeden as they rode in his phaeton. She was thankful he had a driver. She returned his dashing smile as his eyes caressingly stole over her. With Louis present, ruining any chance at intimacy, Fallon remained silent. Neither did Braeden attempt any conversation. Fallon nodded eagerly, when Braeden suggested they stop and walk.

'Did you get into much trouble last night?' Braeden's eyes washed over her as he tucked her hand into his arm.

Fallon laughed softly, 'not much, though mama was most disappointed with me.'

'You are in agreement with my offer?' He questioned. 'I saw no alternative. I really did not want to duel with your father.'

Fallon hung her head. She had known the reason why he'd offered for her, yet it hurt to hear him confirm it. Why could he not at least say he cared?

'Yes,' she nodded, raising her chin proudly. Braeden must not suspect her true feelings. 'My lord ___.'

'Yes?' Braeden prompted curiously.

There is a ___ matter, I wish to raise.' Fallon hesitated.

Braeden's curiosity was sparked. He hardly knew the chit to be at a loss for words. 'Go on,' his eyebrows arched questioningly.

'I would like you to ___ promise, that you will not ___ take a mistress, after we are wed,' she murmured.

His face was a mask as his eyes studied her. 'And why should I issue such a promise?' He taunted.

She tried to hide the hurt in her eyes. 'I would not wish to marry a gentleman who desires to ___ stray,' she murmured.

'Should I have offered you carte blanche then?' He provoked her.

Fallon gasped at his insult. How dare he? She was a gentle lady. He could not offer her carte blanche as if ___ as if she was a trollip!

'My papa will most certainly call you out for that,' she hissed. She turned her eyes away knowing her threat moved him not an iota. There were a very few men who could hold their own against the Earl of Hampton and she knew as did Braeden that her father was not one of esteemed few.

'We shall wed very soon Fallon,' he vowed, laying his arms on her shoulders, as his eyes probed the depths of her cerulean eyes.

Fallon was aware he evaded her earlier question. She was not prepared to share the gentleman she married with any mistress, yet she could not demand the earl's fidelity. How could she enforce her wish? He was an aristocrat with rank, privilege, wealth and an enviable status in the haute ton.

Fallon was irate, maddened, thwarted; exasperated that she was in the basket and forced to marry under such undesirable circumstances. She glared at Braeden's hands on her person.

'Do not touch me, my lord,' she stepped back, his hands fell to his sides.

Fallon looked away, furious that he would continue to be a rake after they wed. There was the other alternative... Braeden could withdraw his forced offer; but that would necessitate he duel with her father. Only problem was, Fallon knew Braeden would defeat the baron. Her father had only called Braeden out to defend her honour. He was no match against Braeden. Fallon so wished she had not been caught kissing Braeden, not like she desired to become any gentleman's tenant for life ... before she kissed Braeden.

Braeden smiled. He seemed unperturbed at her snub. He could not wait to splash out on fancy gowns for his betrothed. He was impatient to see her in lavish gowns of silk and satin and every conceivable colour under the sun. 'I would like to escort you to the modiste for your trousseau,' he offered.

She glared back at him with an expression of mute insolence. Surely was her father's duty to buy her wedding trousseau, but then if this filthy rich earl wanted to spend his coin on her, why not? Fallon determined she would make a dozen each of morning gowns, riding habits; evening dresses and ball gowns and accessories for each one; and she would delight at the look of consternation on his sorry face when he had to pay.

As if preempting her mischievous thoughts, he announced. 'You need not worry about finances my dear. I am a man of vast wealth. You will hardly clean me out too deep to Dun territory,' he laughed.

'We should return to papa,' Fallon stated, disappointed that her plan to see Braeden on the rocks by her planned spendthrift ways would not see the light of day.