Mary made a pretty curtsy and plastered a wan smile on her rosy lips. “How do you do, Your Grace?”
Bowing, Nick couldn’t help but notice the look of disdain that flitted across Faith’s face. “A pleasure, Lady Mary. I’m pleased you could come tonight. Do you know Lady Faith Landon?”
Another curtsy and a smile that likened to a wolf, and Mary said, “Lady Faith and I went to the Wormbattle School together. We have been acquainted for many years. How are you, Faith?”
Faith raised a brow. “Very well, Mary. You are looking fine. Your parents tell me you’ve had some issue with your gown this evening.”
Mary’s gown was dark blue and threaded with gold. It pushed all her assets up to the breaking point of the material at her breast and flowed down, showing off her perfect figure. She blushed. “Just a small issue that my maid and a needle and thread resolved easily enough.”
The ladies leered at each other.
Clearing his throat, Lord Flitmore said, “Mary, let me introduce you to our host.”
“Of course,” Mary agreed, and with a nod to Nick, all three Yateses left the circle.
Faith watched after Mary but had schooled her features to a pleasant expression that no one could have noted anything amiss from. Nick had many questions, but none of them were any of his business.
“Shall we go in to dinner?” As they were officially engaged, Nick offered Faith his arm and they preceded the others into the dining room.
The long table had rounded corners and was draped in white linen. Fine china leafed with gold, and highly polished crystal and silver, made the setting gleam under three fully lit chandeliers hanging overhead, and with four standing candelabras placed in all corners of the room. The high-backed, dark wood chairs were cushioned with a pale blue damask. It was decidedly English, and extremely elegant, to appeal to Geb’s guests.
At the head of the table, Geb welcomed everyone formally to his home, Aaru, before launching into a story of being on a sinking ship, and the diners were riveted despite the fact that most of them would not invite an Egyptian man of no known rank into their own homes. Faith smiled warmly at Geb, and Nick wondered if she were different. Would his friends, regardless of their origins, be welcomed to her table?
He shook off the notion. He would not be going through with marrying Faith Landon, no matter how much he desired her or how kind she pretended to be. She had betrayed him with her spying, and he wouldn’t have it.
Another exception to the apparent prejudice against Geb were Rhys and Poppy Draper. The earl and his bride genuinely liked Geb and had become fast friends with him after being stranded at his house in a storm.
“Did you swim to shore from that distance, Mr. Arafa?” Poppy’s blue eyes were wide and her dark hair and lashes made the color all the more demonstrable.
Geb’s cheeks pinked and he laughed. “I’m afraid nothing so heroic, my lady. I was hauled out of the ocean by a small fishing vessel. My lungs were full of water and I caught a terrible ague and spent three weeks in a Portuguese hospital.”
They all laughed with Geb.
Rhys Draper took a long pull on his wine. “I would be willing to bet you were the most interesting thing those fishermen plucked from the Atlantic that day. And you were damned lucky. Not only could you have drowned, but if this had happened a year later, you might have been caught up in Napoleon’s invasion.”
“Indeed, luck was with me that day and many others.” More sober, Geb gave Nick a knowing look.
Nick noted his friend’s careful use of luck rather than invoke the name of the Prophet in a room full of Christians. Knowing how religious Geb was, Nick knew what he was thinking. They had experienced many adventures together, and luck, Allah, or God had seen them through some things that at the time seemed impossible.
The footmen served the soup.
Nick noted that many of the guests poked at the fine broth, vegetables, and bits of tender beef, but didn’t eat. The Yates family were among those who would not eat from the table of an Egyptian but would be happy to attend, since Geb was a good resource for many business dealings. Not to mention the depth of Geb’s pocketbook.
Faith, Poppy, and Rhys ate with gusto. Perhaps more than was natural, and Nick decided they had also noticed the rudeness of the other guests.
Besides the Yateses, Sir Duncan Humphrey, his wife, and two sons, Montgomery and Malcolm, were in attendance, as well as William Wharton and his wife. All were well respected among the ton and had obviously not come for the food or company. They didn’t speak other than the occasional thank you.
On Nick’s right, Faith sipped the last of her soup and turned to Mary. “You didn’t like the soup?”
“I’m not hungry. I’m certain it is quite good.” Mary narrowed her eyes at Faith.
“It’s really too bad, it was the best I’ve tasted.” Faith smiled warmly and turned her attention back to Geb. “Poppy told me how wonderful your cook is and now I can taste the truth of it.”
“You always did have a great love of food, Faith.” Mary’s voice rang with disdain and she peered down that thin nose at Faith’s curvaceous figure.
Poppy looked ready to leap across the table and do Mary physical harm.
A low laugh from Faith calmed the situation. “I suppose where I am fond of a good meal you are fond of a good bit of gossip. We each have our hidden desires. Don’t we, Mary?”
It was a warning, but Nick didn’t have enough information to know what was at stake.
Mary bit her bottom lip and narrowed her eyes before masking all emotion and nodding. “I suppose that’s true of everyone.”
A flush of pride swept over Nick. He had no right to feel any sense of esteem for Faith’s ability to outthink another woman and put her in her place. Yet he couldn’t help liking that she had not been bested by a bigoted daughter of parents who would attend the dinner party of a man they clearly didn’t like, but wanted something from.
Turning his attention back to Geb, Nick noted his friend’s amusement at the social volley going on at the table. Geb smiled warmly at Poppy as she changed the subject to the delectable pheasant and fine wine.
By the main course, Nick had given up on the other end of the table and was ensconced in a lively conversation among the four people around him. Rhys was well versed in politics and they discussed the state of coal mines. Faith and Poppy both added their opinions, which were well thought out and more astute than he would have thought for ladies of their rank. Perhaps he should rethink his views of what ladies ponder in the course of a day. Clearly it was more than stitching and tea patterns.
Geb, too, ignored the reticent group at the far end of the table and joined the banter. When Kosey announced that cake and sherry were being served in the grand parlor, Nick was disappointed to leave the conversation.
As soon as they entered the parlor, Flitmore cornered Geb about the sale of several horses, and Sir Duncan wanted to know when the next shipment of spices from India would be arriving.
Stomach turning at their duplicity, Nick escaped to the garden.
Geb had torches lighting the paths. The gardens here were one of Nick’s favorite places in England. They were orderly and wild at once. White stones lined the lanes meant to guide one through the low plantings. It was a maze but without the threat of becoming lost. The fountain at the far end broke the silence of the pleasant autumn night. Soon winter would turn the garden into a wasteland and a good snow would give it the feel of an abandoned house.
Nick sighed and walked on.
“Are you determined to be alone, or might I join you, Your Grace?” Faith called from only a few feet behind him.
He must be losing his training for her to have sneaked up behind him without notice. “Is there something you wanted, Lady Faith?”
She stepped closer. Several curls had freed themselves of her elaborate coif an
d called out to Nick to touch them. “It is a lovely garden.” She glanced around and smiled.
“Yes. Geb has taken bits from all his travels and placed them in his home and this garden. I think it brings him comfort.”
Faith’s golden eyes filled with sorrow. “Do you think Mr. Arafa is lonely here in England?”
“It is never easy to live amongst a people not your own.” Nick considered all the time he’d spent in France, Spain, and Portugal and how much he’d missed the rainy days in England and people who understood his humor.
“The Wallflowers are very fond of Mr. Arafa. We have not entertained much, but I will see that he is added to our invitation list. Perhaps a circle of good friends will make him feel more at home.” She’d placed her index finger on her chin while she considered how best to help Geb.
Adorable.
He needed to be free of this woman. “You didn’t say what it was you wanted, Lady Faith.”
Frowning, she walked forward and down the path. “Must I have a reason to walk in the garden with my fiancé?”
Leaving her to her own devices and returning to the house flitted through his mind, but it would cause gossip and he was curious about her reason for seeking him out. “We are hardly the perfect picture of an engaged couple.”
“No. That is true. I wanted to apologize for any undue strain I may have caused you by trying to find out what kind of character you have.”
“Is that your apology, or shall I wait for more?” he said when she didn’t elaborate.
She stopped and puffed up her chest. Her cheeks were red and fire flashed in her eyes. “Why must you be so difficult? Even when I’m trying to be nice, you find fault. The entire situation was mostly your doing. If you had been open and honest, that would have been an end to our query and none of the rest would have been necessary.”
She was even more beautiful when she was in a temper. He longed to pull her into his arms and taste those alluring lips. He was certain just one tug would topple all those curls from the pins that held her hair in place and he could find out if they were as soft as they appeared. It was maddening. “I hardly see how it was my fault. You and your friends spied on me and involved Geb, which is unforgivable.”
As soft and lovely as she was, a hard edge caught in her voice. “I suppose, then, you will not accept my apology. I see. Well, in that case, I’ll leave you to your solitude.” She turned to walk away and stopped, eyes narrowed into the darkness beyond the gardens, which were surrounded by tall evergreens.
Following her gaze, Nick saw nothing, though the hair on the back of his neck rose. “What is it?”
“I felt eyes on me, as if someone was watching.” She shivered and continued straining to see in the shadows.
“I’m sure you are imagining things.” He dismissed her worry.
That hateful glance fell on him before she plastered false serenity on her face. “Perhaps.”
He preferred the disdain to the untruthful agreement. Why he should care when he wanted nothing to do with her, he didn’t know. “Shall I escort you back inside, Lady Faith?”
“You are too kind, Your Grace, but I can manage the journey on my own.” With a curt nod, she stormed away from him toward the house.
Unable to look away, he admired the gentle sway of her hips until she climbed the veranda steps and went inside. Lord, how he longed to hold those hips and slide his hands up to that slim waist, and so much more. He shook away the wayward thoughts before he embarrassed himself with his desires.
One thing was certain, Faith Landon would be his undoing.
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Meet the Author
A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful IT career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back. A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic, and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story. The author of The Forever Brides series, the Everton Domestic Society series, and more, A.S. adores strong, empowered heroines no matter the era, and that’s what you’ll find in all her books. A Jersey Girl at heart, she now makes her home in southern Missouri with her real-life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing, she enjoys cooking, travel, history, puttering in her garden, and spoiling her fussy cat. Be sure to write visit her website at asfenichel.com, find her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter.
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