The young woman rolled her shoulders as if she couldn’t wait to start scribbling, and Faith and Crispin shared a smile over her bent head once she’d scratched a few notes.
“Is this your first piece, Miss Eaves?”
Miss Eaves shook her head. “I’ve found a variety of pieces with which to fill the magazine over the past three weeks. But this is my first important piece. The size of the prize and the secrecy surrounding its benefactor has had the art world agog. Is that a word you English use in polite society?” She looked unperturbed, rushing on without waiting for an answer. “My uncle calls me brash and likes to edit my stories himself, but I’m the reporter on the ground. There aren’t too many of us. Women, I mean, doing this kind of work, but the world is changing, and whereas a few years ago I’d have been a curiosity, now that is not the case. At least, not where I come from.”
“I think things are slower to change in England,” Faith murmured. “Traditions are strongly adhered to, including a woman’s place.” She stared at her toes. “A woman’s respectability counts for more than her intelligence,” she added, more to herself, though Miss Eaves picked up on this immediately.
“Oh, in America too, but there is much greater license and freedom from where I hail.” Her pencil paused, and two blackbird-like eyes regarded Faith. “I’ve been fascinated by the difference in the way people think here, how people get ahead, what is accepted. Lord, but I wouldn’t like to live my whole life in this country as the unmarried woman I am, keeping my head down, not being allowed to work. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about me. Mr Westaway, please tell me what inspired you to choose the type of painting you did? I believe you received a bag of props and had to create something from that. What did you have to incorporate? Each painting is significantly different though yours stands out, naturally.”
“Rose petals, Miss Eaves.”
Faith saw his clouded brow, and recalled his discomfort when he’d been confronted with the crimson flowers. His discomfort had clearly grown when Lady Vernon had made her suggestions, but with water as an essential medium, it was only natural that the petals had been arranged to float about Faith’s prone form.
When they were alone together later tonight, if it could be managed in secret, she’d quiz him about it. There was so much they each had to learn about the other. But she’d observed a multitude of men during her years at Madame Chambon’s, and there was a sincerity about Crispin that was lacking in the many braggarts and pumped-up blades who’d crossed that threshold.
Crispin’s warm smile enforced every hope she had for the success of their marriage. When Miss Eaves departed having written her piece, and Lady Vernon was occupied in conversation with Sir Albion and his acolytes, he trailed her to the alcove where she’d sought a modicum of privacy.
“I hoped you’d not be waylaid,” she said. “Or, at least, want to talk to me enough that you’d fob off everyone else.”
“No one else is important right now.” His eyes looked black and full of wanting. Turning, he plucked a full glass of champagne from a passing waiter and replaced Faith’s empty one. “Only you, Faith darling.” His low murmur was like melted chocolate, and it filled Faith with an inner glow.
“Tell me how important I am,” she whispered, taking a small sip of her drink and fixing him with a sly, challenging look over the rim of her glass. She’d angled herself so that she faced the window and her flirtatious manner would not be observed. They’d not have long to be alone together.
“I need you like the earth needs the rain, like the birds need the nectar, like…a blank canvas needs a story. You’re mine, Faith. My story, my sustenance, my inspiration.”
“Inspiration?” She cocked her head, loving his willingness to elaborate, conscious that too much longer alone together might be dangerous. But then, she’d been crucial to him carrying off the prize. People would understand their solidarity for now. They were a team.
They’d always be a team.
“You are good and pure and honest. That’s what inspires me. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”
“I’m sure you’ve met many women just as good and pure and honest.” That was true enough.
He shook his head. “You’re different. You are without guile. I love that about you. I look at you, and I see someone who would defend principle to the end.”
Faith held up her hand, uncomfortable now. “Crispin, it’s easy to believe the best when you’re—”
“In love?” He took her hand and kissed the back of it before Faith pulled it back quickly. She tried to speak but he said, “You think I’ve had too much to drink perhaps? You’re afraid that people will observe us? Why? Because you’re afraid of the future? We are destined to be together, Faith. And we will be.”
“You sound confident. I hope you’re right.” Her heart felt very full, but also very heavy suddenly.
“We shall be married as soon as I can organise a special licence.” Now that she considered it, his eyes did seem unusually bright.
“A special licence is what’s needed to elope?” she queried. Three weeks was the earliest they could be married in the usual way after having the banns put up in their respective parishes. For Faith, this was entirely impractical, so she was relieved Crispin had not even considered that idea.
“When I leave for Germany in two weeks, it will be with you as my wife.”
“But it would still be a secret?”
“Are you certain you don’t want your parents to attend? Not even one of your sisters?”
Faith shook her head. “They’ll petition you for money. Oh Crispin, you don’t know my family. They’re impoverished, and the only reason I was given a few weeks in London was because Papa had ideas I could snare a duke.”
“So, you think he’d be disappointed you snared only me?”
Faith coloured. “His excitement would be mortifying. If you love me, you won’t bring my family into it. Please, Crispin.”
“I do love you and I’m marrying you, not your family. You’re right; it would be best if my father knew nothing of it until time had passed and I’d cemented my reputation doing what’s required in Germany.”
“Ah, Mr Westaway, there you are! Lord Athlone is anxious to meet you. Miss Montague.” The new arrival offered Faith a cursory nod before drawing Crispin away, but not before Faith had recognised the curiosity and assessment in his eyes.
Of course, everyone would be wondering what Faith was to Crispin, and any more time spent alone in corners would have tongues wagging, which she could do without when it came to exciting the undesired curiosity of Crispin’s father, should it get back to him.
But in terms of reinforcing to Lady Vernon that Faith was making inroads into her task of winning Crispin’s heart for Mrs Gedge’s evil plans, it was ideal.
* * *
“Mr Westaway seemed reluctant to relinquish you in order to meet Lord Athlone.”
“He loves me.” Faith paused in the midst of pulling the pins from her hair and viewed Lady Vernon with interest in the reflection of the looking glass. “Madly, deeply, unreasonably.” She smiled. “I have him,” she added slowly. “Are you pleased? After all, you’ll get your money now.”
“My loyalty is towards Mrs Gedge. I was more concerned that her three-year investment in you should be adequately repaid. Her desire to see justice done through you is more important to me than the pin money I shall receive to compensate me for the dreary time I’ve had chaperoning you about the place.” Lady Vernon smoothed her black skirts over her knees. “You have to break his heart now, of course. That is, once you’ve proved beyond a doubt that you do have his heart.”
“A pile of letters. You didn’t guess, did you?” Faith hugged herself. She wanted to pretend ingenuousness. It would be her defence. Lady Vernon mustn’t know that Faith was secretly plotting to forgo her own payment in order to disappear from the country without trace.
Lady Vernon sent her a glance laced with suspicion. “And how will you break
his heart? You never actually discussed that part, did you?”
Faith shrugged. “He wants to run away with me. I shall disappear. With my money. With the money Mrs Gedge has promised me, and that is my payment for working for her for three years with the end agreement being all or nothing.” Faith shook her hair free and wandered to the window. She stared out at the sun. “Mrs Gedge will have all the evidence she needs. Mr Westaway is a very passionate correspondent.” She sighed. “And I shall have my freedom. At last.”
“You speak as if you’ve been under ball and chain, when most girls in your position could only dream of what you’ve had: a roof over your head, an education, fine clothes, an introduction to society, all so that you might know how to behave.”
“Oh yes, and I’m very grateful. I’ve made the most of all that she has insisted it suits her to bestow upon me…as her slave.”
She took a few steps into the centre of the room and presented her back to Lady Vernon so that she could help unlace her. It was good to treat the old termagant like a servant; the way she looked upon Faith.
“So, you have no gratitude for Mrs Gedge? None for taking you out of poverty and giving you the tools to prosper?”
“I’m grateful that I now have manners and know how to use a knife and fork properly. But not for the years I languished in a brothel where I was surrounded by nothing but misery.” She closed her eyes. “Each night it was like listening to my potential punishment. The moans of the gentlemen; the pretended cries of ecstasy of the girls—my friends—before they’d weep their eyes out and tell me everything the next morning. It was a constant reminder that that was my fate if I should fail at my task. And now I am about to fulfil it; fulfil my destiny. It is a joyous moment.”
Lady Vernon stared at Faith as she moved around to help her remove her gown.
“And you have no regrets?”
Faith raised her eyebrows. “Regrets? For gaining my freedom? Why, I am fashioned in your own image, Lady Vernon. My heart is made of stone.”
Lady Vernon turned her with a light hand on her shoulders and smiled her first real smile. At least, that’s what Faith thought it was until the woman said, “And so tonight I shall help you disappear, Faith, for of course that is the only way to fulfil Mrs Gedge’s decree, which is what you’ve just told me you’re in the process of doing.”
Faith managed to smile. With every ounce of willpower, she kept her mouth steady and her voice even as she replied, “You’d really do that? Help me? Though, of course, when I have the money I’m owed, I can get as far away as I want.”
“But he would find you, and that would not be pleasant for you. It would not further Mrs Gedge’s aims. No, have no fear, Mrs Gedge knew you would succeed, and she has everything in hand. You will be spirited away to a safe house, just for a short time because, as you say, you’ve earned your freedom. But it will be necessary; I’m sure you’ll agree. For everyone concerned.”
Faith blinked, smiled, and blinked again. She took a few steps to the bed and sat down with as much grace as she could before Lady Vernon said, “Now, where are those love letters you’ve received from Mr Westaway?” She held out her hand. “Mrs Gedge will naturally want to see evidence though I could vouch for the truth. You don’t think I’ve been as blind as I’ve pretended, do you?”
“I have them in my escritoire. I’ll…fetch them for you in the morning. I’m very tired, you know. It has been an awfully big day.”
“I think we should well get it over and done with, Faith. Give them to me now so that you might sleep in longer without troubling yourself over it in the morning.” Lady Vernon’s bright tone was so false Faith felt like calling her out on it, but she could not afford to unleash even a suggestion of anger; not even a hint that she was feeling suddenly beleaguered and frightened and as far from being in control as she ever had.
She knew when she was beaten, so she forced herself to rise and go to the small writing desk in the corner of the room. They were in a bundle, tied up with red ribbon, and the very sight of them made her heart sing before it dropped like a stone to the pit of her stomach.
What did Mrs Gedge intend doing with her? Where would she take her? No, Faith had to be prepared. She wasn’t going to go with anyone, anywhere. Except Crispin. She’d pledged her love to him, and to him she would be faithful until the end.
When she turned, having picked up the bundle with all the reverence that such true and honest sentiment deserved, Lady Vernon was standing right behind her, hand outstretched, a speculative look in her eye.
“Ah, just imagine…” Her own attitude was reverential as she took possession of the only testament to loving feeling Faith had ever been shown. But Faith couldn’t snatch them back. She had to be so very careful to hide her feelings. And she managed, for it’s what she’d been trained to do her entire life.
Lady Vernon scanned the pages. She chuckled. “So, he really did fall hard for you, Faith. You were so sly I wasn’t quite sure what was happening behind my back. And behind closed bedchamber doors. I’m sure you put into practice, admirably, everything you’ve learned from all the harlots with whom you’ve associated these past years.” She fingered the letters, stroking them as she spoke, while Faith battled the urge to fly at her, whisk them from her and scrape her across the face with catlike claws, if only she had them. Instead, she whispered, “That was unnecessary, Lady Vernon. It makes me wonder who, here, is the real lady.”
Chapter 20
“You’ve done well, Faith.”
Mrs Gedge smiled at Faith from across the table. Pots overflowing with luxuriant foliage and crystal chandeliers endowed the room with an opulence Faith found slightly overwhelming, in much the same way she’d been overwhelmed the first time Mrs Gedge had brought her to Claridges a little more than three years before.
“Not only have you blossomed into the great beauty I suspected you would become, but you also had the intelligence and cunning I saw in you when we made our acquaintance.”
Faith smiled dutifully.
“Furthermore, you have conducted yourself with the grace and sophistication of the most well-brought-up debutante. And yet you’ve not allowed your fancies to get the better of you. No, you have shown that you have a will and determination as rigid as mine, and a heart that is just as hard.” She leaned back in her chair and put the tips of her gloved hands together as she contemplated Faith. “So, are you excited to receive your reward?”
A little part of Faith’s heart leaped at the prospect of an independent fortune. Five hundred pounds was beyond imaginable. She could set herself up for life with careful maintenance of such a sum. And then she could find Crispin, and this would be her dowry.
But that would not work anymore.
She’d chosen love over independence, and for that, she could afford no delays.
“Men hold the purse strings, and despite modern advances, a woman is still beholden to the males in her life for everything. Yet you, Faith, will call the shots, as they say in my country. I don’t wonder you’re excited. So very ready to break this man’s heart and claim your reward? I wonder how you plan to do that, Faith? Lady Vernon says you’ve been playing your cards very close to your chest. Well, we shall talk about it in the morning. It’s late.” She pushed back her chair, signifying that their tête-à-tête was at an end.
“And Lady Vernon is waiting for you. She has a special surprise, too. After all, tomorrow is the beginning of a new chapter in all our lives.
Faith had no choice but to rise when Mrs Gedge did. She was aware of the flickering interest of the other diners, for there was undeniably something arresting about the wealthy American woman that went beyond her sumptuous dress. Her auburn hair, streaked with grey, gleamed beneath the bright lights of the restaurant, like the diamonds of her choker. Her ageing skin was lustrous, and her teeth were small and sharp and very white for a woman in her fifth decade.
“Mr Westaway is basking in the glory of his sudden notoriety. He is being recognised f
or what he’s always wanted—his talent. If only his father would appreciate him for it, too, the young man could be no happier. But you are his compensation for the lack of family support. In you, he has found something to love that loves him back. He thinks you are his rock; his salvation.” Mrs Gedge chuckled as they wandered towards the double doors. “My Constancia could have been all that and more to him, if only he had let her. If only he’d been prepared to accept her as one of his set. But men like Mr Westaway are leery of outsiders, Faith. Outsiders like my Constancia. Outsiders like you, although he doesn’t know it yet.”
Faith glanced from a table of diners staring at them to Mrs Gedge’s granite-like eyes. The pieces were starting to fall into place. “You sponsored the prize so he had a greater height from which to fall?”
Mrs Gedge looked satisfied. “I did indeed, Faith. But surely you guessed that long ago. Just as you guessed at my motive.”
“To punish Mr Westaway for not falling in love with Miss Constancia? Your daughter…” She remembered the headstrong, beautiful, often rude and thoughtless young woman she’d been employed to serve three years ago.
“I did, Faith. Mr Westaway and Constancia were the perfect couple. But he spurned her, you know. Belittled her because she was not of his set. Oh, on first appearances he’s every young woman’s dream: handsome and charming, in line for a title and a fortune, earnest and ardent, intelligent and artistic. But at heart, he’s like all the young men of his kind—completely unwilling to accept an outsider like my Constancia, even with a grand fortune.”
She hooked Faith’s hand in her arm and patted it in a motherly fashion as they wove their way through the restaurant. The doors opened, and the evening breeze blew in to greet them. A conveyance would soon arrive for Mrs Gedge. She would have made arrangements for Faith too, and no doubt that meant being conveyed back to Lady Vernon’s.
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