“That won’t happen,” he assured her. “I grew up spending each Season in this house, and I know the maze well. I even helped Amanda expand it when she married Jon. We’ll simply come out on the side of the house, completely out of sight of the terrace, at which point I can deposit you quite safely back inside, no one the wiser and none the worse for wear.”
Faith bit her lip uncertainly. “You promise we won’t be in there long?”
Gareth shook his head and tugged insistently on her hand. That bit of prodding, combined with the voices of Amanda and her companions drawing closer, decided it for her. She took a deep breath and allowed herself to be pulled into the maze.
It was much darker inside than she’d thought it would be. The light from the torch-lit paths couldn’t completely penetrate the thick hedge walls, especially when she and Gareth left the outer paths to work their way inward. The marquess’s dark clothes made it nearly impossible for her to see him, so she was silently grateful that he held her hand so securely.
He began making a series of turns through the maze, and Faith tried to keep count in her head of the lefts and the rights, but with each turn that carried them farther from the entrance she could feel the old panic building in the pit of her stomach. Her knees began trembling, so she tried to focus on making her feet follow Gareth’s, but her ears were beginning to ring, too. She found she couldn’t concentrate.
How much farther, she wondered desperately, trying to control her breathing so Gareth wouldn’t know how agitated she was becoming. He had said that it would only be a short time before they came out, she reminded herself.
And then she stumbled.
Her hand slipped from Gareth’s grasp just as he turned another corner. Instantly, the threatening gray fog descended. “Don’t let go!” she cried out, and knelt and pressed both hands to her ears, waiting for the encroaching blackness to replace the enveloping mist as she fainted. Just before she lost consciousness, Faith felt herself being lifted and carried. With a thankful sob, she wrapped her arms around Gareth’s neck and pressed her face into his dark jacket.
Nine
Gareth carried Faith the short distance out of the maze. She felt him climb a small flight of steps, then sit down and settle her across his lap. She was beginning to feel a bit better, although she still trembled from head to toe. Her ears had stopped ringing, and she found she could breathe normally. Still, acutely embarrassed by what had just happened, she didn’t raise her head from his shoulder.
“Faith?”
She didn’t move.
“Faith, why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Her voice was muffled by his shoulder.
“That it wasn’t me you feared.” His voice was patient and tender, and Faith felt a ribbon of warmth unfurl in the pit of her stomach. He stroked her hair. “It was the maze that had you frightened, wasn’t it, princess?”
She sat up and tried to move away from him, but he held her tightly. Her arms were still shaking much too hard for her to put much effort into insisting, so she shrugged. “It’s too silly,” she said, looking away.
He turned her chin back so she faced him, and laid a finger across her lips. “One’s fears are never silly,” he chided gently. “Why does the maze affect you so?”
She shuddered slightly. “If I needed to get out quickly, I couldn’t,” she said in a halting voice. She felt ridiculous, but his smile was encouraging, and she’d never told anybody how she felt before, hadn’t spoken of her experience as a child since it had occurred. “It happens whenever I’m closed in somewhere and unsure of the way out.” Her eyes turned distant, and a vision of Duncan, his mouth locked on that chambermaid’s breast, danced through her mind. She shuddered again.
“I’ve known grown men who didn’t like small places.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t small places,” she corrected. “It’s places from which I cannot escape.”
“How long have you felt this way?” he asked.
She pulled away. “As long as I can remember,” she murmured evasively, knowing it hadn’t been just the maze. Duncan’s sneering face danced in and out of her head again, and she wriggled off Gareth’s lap to the bench beside him. “I’m fine now,” she added.
She looked around, realizing for the first time that they were in a small white gazebo that opened on four of its eight sides. The closed walls were lined with benches, and it was on one of these that they were seated. “Where are we?”
“On the side of the town house,” Gareth answered. “Amanda is expanding the gardens again to make a play area for little Geoffrey, but this part isn’t finished.” He smiled wryly. “I don’t think my brother is aware he will be hosting yet another party this Season. I’m sure Amanda will want to show off this newest part of the most beautiful gardens in London.”
Faith managed a small smile. Gareth decided it was time for her to tell him why she’d wanted to talk to him in the first place. She was rapidly regaining her composure. With it would return a large measure of the wariness she typically evidenced when dealing with him.
He stood, took a few steps away from the bench, and turned to smile disarmingly at her. “I don’t mean to change the subject, but you did wish to speak with me privately, didn’t you?” He leaned a shoulder negligently against a post and looked down at her with a steady gaze.
Faith felt a bit disadvantaged with him standing over her like that, but didn’t quite trust her legs to hold her up yet. She cleared her throat and started to speak, but lost her voice when she saw him cross his powerful arms, remembering how she’d told Grace she wished he would kiss her. An unbidden vision of how easily those arms had held her when he’d carried her out of the maze only moments earlier went through her mind. She blushed, her face hot with embarrassment. It quickly changed to fury when she saw a knowing grin sweep across Gareth’s face, as if he knew precisely what she was thinking.
Before she could stop herself, she leapt to her feet and crossed the gazebo. Her hand flashed out almost of its own accord and soundly slapped his cheek. Satisfaction spread warmly through her as she watched his smile begin to fade, and she slapped him again, then dropped her hand. She deliberately ignored the feeling of shamed horror rapidly spreading through her, concentrating instead on the intense anger.
“It galls me to think, my lord,” she hissed through clenched teeth, “that the only reason I’m standing here with you tonight is because I’d intended to apologize to you.”
Gareth slowly rubbed his cheek. “I take it, then, that you’ve changed your mind,” he remarked, his eyes narrowing on her pallid face.
Faith was growing increasingly distressed by what she’d done. She quaked inwardly at the quiet menace in his voice, but gamely stood her ground. “I have, my lord, and I would appreciate it if we were to have no further encounters.”
She turned to leave, intending to walk away with quiet dignity, but Gareth’s hand shot out and closed around her forearm. “Not so fast, Miss Ackerly.”
Faith tried to pull her arm away. “Let go of me,” she hissed.
Gareth ignored her. “It seems as though you and I are forever not apologizing to one another.”
Faith stopped trying to pull her arm from his grasp and instead stood still, glaring up into his taut, angry face. “Only because you’ve been so impossibly boorish that you’ve provoked me into behaving in ways I normally wouldn’t.”
“Is that why you slapped me?” he taunted, still holding her arm.
Faith’s gray eyes sparked. “I slapped you because…because…” She stopped, unable to come up with a reason that sounded more plausible than the truth.
Gareth stepped closer. With an involuntary cry of shock, Faith found herself tugged against his body. She looked up at him helplessly, her heart pounding nearly as hard as it had in the maze.
“If you haven’t a reason,” he said softly, “then perhaps I should give you one.” And his mouth claimed hers with a swift urgency that caught Faith com
pletely off guard.
Shocked into inaction, she stood within his embrace, letting him kiss her, feeling his lips move over hers with insistence at first, and then with sudden melting tenderness. Something white-hot unfurled inside Faith, demanding a response, insisting she return the kiss. She fought it for a moment, but gave up and melted against him with a helpless little whimper. His mouth gentled on hers as her hands clutched at his jacket, then slid inside and around his waist for support. She opened her mouth a bit, instinctively following his lead.
Gareth held his breath and tentatively ran his tongue lightly around her parted lips, reveling in the feeling of her body crushed against his, unable to believe the awakening response she stirred in him. When she shyly imitated the way he’d used his tongue on her, Gareth came apart.
With one arm, he pulled her closer still, his other hand sliding up her back to bury itself in her golden hair. With gentle insistence, he tilted her head back, lifting her face to his and deepening the kiss. His tongue plunged more deeply into her mouth, and still she responded. Gareth suddenly realized she was duplicating everything he did to her, not understanding, in her innocence, that she was only fueling a fire he should never have ignited.
With a groan, he tore his mouth from hers and gently pulled her head to his chest, staring into the darkness in an effort to bring his raging need back under control. He took a deep breath, silently commanding his heart to cease its pounding. When he could trust himself to speak, he said, “Now, princess. Now I think I deserve that slap.”
Faith didn’t respond, but Gareth felt a shudder go through her body. Her slim shoulders began shaking.
Alarmed, Gareth pulled back, trying to get her to look up at him, silently cursing himself for pushing a young lady of her innocent breeding too far. When she refused to look up, he reached down and tipped up her chin. “Faith, I’m so sor—,” he began, then stopped abruptly.
Faith’s eyes were shining, her face was flushed, and her shoulders were still shaking…but with laughter, not with tears.
“What do you find so funny?” His tone was slightly indignant, but his lips twitched, betraying his attempt to suppress the urge to laugh along with her.
Faith stopped laughing and bit her lip, though her eyes still danced with gentle humor. “I was just thinking,” she responded a bit shyly, “that if your intention was to punish me with that kiss, I only got half of what I deserved.” Gareth caught his breath as the merriment faded from her face and she took a step forward to look up at him, her eyes glowing with unabashed tenderness. “You see, my lord,” she explained in an aching voice, “I actually slapped you twice.”
His heart slammed into his ribs as he looked down at her angelic face. He found himself torn between shouting with laughter and kissing her again. It was really not a difficult decision. He gathered her into his arms for a kiss intended to right all the wrongs between them, a kiss that would allow them to begin anew…a kiss that never happened.
Over Faith’s shoulder Gareth saw his sister-in-law, frozen in shock, standing on the path that led from the maze. Beside her stood Evelyn Hedgepath, his former lover, unquestionably the most vicious gossip in London. And the look of outraged shock on her face was quickly changing to one of malicious glee.
Ten
Gareth gently pushed the bewildered Faith away from him and stepped around to block her from view with his body in the futile hope that Evelyn hadn’t recognized her. The stunning thirty-six-year-old widow quickly dashed that hope.
“Faith Ackerly,” she said, her voice laced with shrill outrage. “Does your aunt have any idea where you are?”
Gareth felt Faith stiffen in shock. “Evelyn,” he said quickly, before Faith could respond. “Things aren’t quite what they seem.”
“Yes,” piped up Amanda, hoping to help. “Perhaps Miss Ackerly became frightened by something she heard. It is rather dark in this section of the garden,” she added. But as soon as the words passed her lips, she wished she could take them back. She’d inadvertently made it sound as though Faith and Gareth had deliberately chosen a quiet, shadowy place to meet.
Evelyn looked at both Gareth and Amanda as if they were daft. “Don’t tell me I didn’t see what was right before me.”
Faith stepped from behind Gareth, a shuttered, icy expression on her features. “I’m perfectly certain, my lady, that you know precisely what you saw,” she said in a cool tone. “And I don’t suppose we could prevail upon you to keep it to yourself, could we?”
Evelyn drew herself up. “Miss Ackerly, are you insinuating that I would spread word of this around, that I would gossip like someone of coarse, common breeding?”
Faith paled a bit but remained composed. She shook her head. “I only hoped we could arrive at an understanding, my lady,” she said.
Evelyn looked from Faith’s blanched face to Gareth’s impassive one. He stood slightly behind Faith, his stance strong and protective. Her lips compressed when she realized her former lover intended to stand up for Faith, when he’d never even acknowledged their relationship in public.
She stared at Faith and smiled with venomous sweetness. “Now, my dear. I hope you didn’t really believe I would spread vicious tales about you.” She managed a hurt look. “You didn’t, did you?” When Faith opened her mouth to answer, Evelyn cut her off. “You can stop worrying your pretty little head about it, because I shan’t tell a soul.”
Faith held her breath a second, then slowly let it out, hoping her deep relief didn’t show on her face. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but this wasn’t it.
Evelyn watched Faith’s shoulders lower slightly as her unease lessened. She lifted a hand, negligently studying her nails as she delivered her coup de grâce. “Of course,” she added in a sham apologetic voice, “I do feel duty bound to inform your aunt of the circumstances in which I found you.”
Gareth felt Faith flinch as if she’d been struck. He reached for her hand, but she evaded his touch. Worried, he looked down at her face and sucked in his breath. Faith was standing perfectly still, staring at Evelyn with no expression at all. It was as though she’d been carved of stone.
Except for her eyes. Faith’s eyes were like two shards of glittering gray glass—sharp, assessing, and dangerous. She stood quietly, waiting for Evelyn to look up from her nails.
When she heard nothing from the other three people in the garden, Evelyn smiled to herself in smug satisfaction and lowered her hand. She glanced first at Amanda and then at Gareth, expecting to see expressions of loathing and censure, but they weren’t looking at her at all. She followed their gazes until her eyes collided with Faith’s.
“If you feel you must speak with Aunt Cleo,” Faith said quietly, “then by all means you must do so, Lady Blakely.” She took a step down from the gazebo, her eyes never leaving Evelyn’s. “I completely understand, of course.”
The older woman sensed danger. She paled and took an involuntary step back. Faith stopped where she was, but continued to pin Evelyn in place with her eyes. Evelyn looked wildly from Gareth to Amanda and back again, then visibly regained her composure. She stepped toward Faith again and hissed, “How dare you threaten me, young lady!"
Faith raised her brow in pointed disdain. She watched impassively as Evelyn turned and hurried off down the path.
Amanda lifted her hands in a helpless shrug. “I’m so sorry, Faith,” she said. She watched the indignant Evelyn’s retreating back. “I suppose she could get lost in the maze,” she added hopefully. Then she hurried after the older lady to try her best to avert the impending disaster.
Faith stood still on the second step of the gazebo, watching Amanda and Evelyn disappear into the darkness. Gareth stepped forward and put a hand lightly on her shoulder, wincing inwardly at how stiff she held herself. “Perhaps she’ll keep her word and speak only to your aunt. Lady Egerton will know better than to say anything.”
“She’ll keep her word,” Faith agreed in an even tone.
Gareth h
ad his doubts. “You’re sure?” he asked dubiously.
Faith nodded. “As sure as I am that she’ll tellAunt Cleo when there are at least a dozen people near enough to overhear.”
Gareth’s heart constricted at the flatness in her voice, but he said nothing, knowing he could offer Faith no comfort. She’d already retreated within herself in that odd way she had. He knew that for the rest of the evening, no matter what happened, Faith would manage to hold herself apart from it. Aloof. Cold.
Alone.
“Is there another way into the house from here?”
Gareth looked down at her. “Of course,” he said, coming down the steps and automatically offering his arm. He dropped it awkwardly when she made no move to take it. “Follow me.”
He led her around a stand of yew trees to the door of a greenhouse recently added to the side of the main building. Their footsteps were loud on the slate floor as they walked through the rows of potted plants filling the tables in the humid room. When they reached the door, which opened into a storeroom, Faith stepped past Gareth.
“Thank you, my lord, for showing me the way.” She reached for the handle.
“Wait, please,” said Gareth.
Faith hesitated. She turned to look at him, waiting politely for him to say what was on his mind.
“Let me go with you,” he suggested. “I could help you,” he added, then stopped awkwardly.
Faith gave him a small smile. “And give credence to the rumors which are no doubt already beginning to circulate?” She shook her head. “No, thank you, my lord.”
She opened the door and stepped into the darkened storeroom. Gareth leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, watching grimly as Faith gingerly made her way through the darkness to the door that led to the servants’ hallway. She opened it and stopped for a moment, her slim form perfectly silhouetted in the light from the corridor. Almost as though she were giving herself a private little lecture of encouragement, he saw her straighten her shoulders and lift her chin before she stepped out and closed the door behind her.
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