Faith

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Faith Page 8

by Deneane Clark


  Gareth closed his eyes and waited for a few seconds, almost hoping her courage would fail her, that she’d rush back to cry in his arms. After a moment he shook his head and smiled grimly; it was selfish of him to want the sense of relief that would come from the simple act of comforting her.

  He looked once again at the still-closed door and turned and left the greenhouse, striding angrily through the garden and out the gate to the small alleyway that ran between his brother’s house and the one next door. Moving briskly, he gained the busy street in front of the town house. It was teeming with carriages coming and going in an endless stream, dropping off and picking up their noble passengers.

  Grimacing at the expected shouts of greeting from acquaintances in the crowd, Gareth ignored everyone and impatiently shouldered his way to the front of the line of people waiting to enter the town house. Once he made it inside, he brushed off the footman who reached for his cape, removed it himself, and almost sprinted up the stairs to the second-floor ballroom entrance.

  Twice as he passed, he heard Faith’s name mentioned by people leaving the party and knew that not only had Evelyn Hedgepath’s destruction already been wreaked here, in his brother’s home, but that the story was well on its way to being spread at other ton functions, where it would do still more damage.

  Gareth finally reached the top step, scowling as he mentally cursed Society. They would assign no blame to a person of his rank and gender, but would cheerfully demolish the reputation of an innocent young woman like Faith.

  “Don’t announce me, Preston,” he commanded the butler in a low tone. The older man nodded, bowing as Gareth moved past him to stand quietly in the doorway looking out over the crowd below.

  He spotted Faith almost at once. She stood near the dance floor next to her aunt, the area immediately around them—normally populated with Faith’s many admirers—conspicuously empty. Her lovely face was as composed as ever, although even from this distance Gareth could see signs of incredible tension. The set of her shoulders spoke volumes, and it was evident she was making a valiant attempt to act as naturally as possible. But the way she appeared to be looking just above people’s eyes, as though she couldn’t bear to meet them and see the utter condemnation she knew would be there, made Gareth’s fists clench convulsively at his sides.

  He watched her for another moment, his heart swelling with pride at the way she was handling the stress, then glanced at the tall figure of Cleo Egerton next to her. To his astonishment, she was grinning up at him in unabashed glee.

  Puzzled, he started down the stairs, wondering if the old woman had finally completely lost her mind. He looked around as he neared the bottom of the staircase and caught Amanda’s eye, watching as her mouth formed an O of surprise. She turned away and began pushing her way through the crowd. He followed her with his eyes, saw her reach Jonathon’s side and pull him down to whisper something in his ear.

  Immediately, the Earl of Seth’s face turned hard. He looked directly at Gareth with cold displeasure, and for the first time ever, Gareth knew he deserved his older brother’s censure. Filled with regret, he turned away.

  Very deliberately, he directed his most charming smile at the first young lady he encountered, resolutely pushing Jonathon and the reckoning that was sure to come to the back of his mind. He bowed gallantly to a glowering old dowager. She sent him a speaking look and whisked her granddaughter away. Undaunted, he complimented a very plain young lady on her even plainer attire, making her blush furiously with pleasure. And through it all, he waited for somebody to bring up the subject of Faith—for he knew that he could not. If he were to so much as mention her name before somebody else did, he would be effectively driving the final nail into the coffin of her reputation.

  At precisely that moment, Amanda magically appeared at his side and slipped her arm through his. “Gareth,” she said in a delighted voice. “I’m so glad you decided to return! Did you give my love to Grace before you spoke with Lord Huntwick?”

  Gareth smiled, realizing Amanda was trying to create an explanation for his prolonged absence and subsequent return. He gave her a grateful look. “I’m sorry Amanda, but Lady Huntwick wasn’t about. I did pass along your message, however, through Hunt.”

  Already, several people around them were looking a little confused, but Gareth knew it would take very little for their minds to return to the more sordid and unfortunately more truthful version of the story. Amanda was, however, effectively planting a seed of doubt in some minds, and that was the beginning he sought. He and his sister-in-law walked slowly along for a few feet, pretending not to notice their transfixed audience.

  “Well,” Amanda cheerfully continued, “I suppose I’ll just have to pay her a visit tomorrow.” She stopped for a moment to greet a passing friend and turned back to Gareth with a bright, determined smile. “It is good that you are here, though, because Jonathon and I have decided that we simply cannot keep your little secret any longer.”

  At that mysterious statement, the people in their immediate vicinity gave up any pretense of conducting other conversations and actually leaned in to listen more closely.

  Gareth raised his eyebrows. “Whatever are you up to now, Amanda Lloyd?” He shook his head with a resigned chuckle.

  She reached up and covered his mouth with her hand. “Oh, no you don’t, little brother!” She shook a finger at him. “And don’t you dare pretend you don’t know what I mean. You just promise me you won’t go running off again until I say you can.”

  Gareth waited for her to remove her hand. When she didn’t, he shrugged and gave her an exaggerated nod of assent. Amanda searched his eyes, then nodded as if satisfied and walked away.

  The group of people who had been listening craned their necks to see which way she would go. When she walked directly to her husband and made no move to go to anybody else, they promptly scattered, anxious to spread word of the new and interesting on-dit they’d just overheard.

  Gareth, too, watched Amanda walk away, confident that whatever scheme she’d concocted in her clever little mind was destined to save Faith’s formerly immaculate reputation.

  It occurred to him that Faith probably had even less knowledge of what was about to happen than he did. With a growing sense of alarm, Gareth looked at the spot near the dance floor where he’d last seen Faith and her aunt. They were no longer there.

  He began walking around the room, glancing casually around in the hope of spotting Faith. Not that he had any idea what he would do when he found her, he realized, nodding and smiling briefly at an acquaintance passing nearby. He stopped once more and let his eyes scan the room.

  “If you’re looking for my niece, you’ll see that she’s standing a bit impatiently at the foot of the stairs, waiting for me to join her so she can leave.”

  Gareth turned to look down at the smugly smiling older lady. Lady Egerton was leaning on her ever-present ebony cane, a walking aid Gareth had long privately suspected she didn’t really need.

  “Why do I have the feeling, Lady Egerton, that you have no intention of allowing your niece to leave just yet?”

  She jabbed him in the chest with a finger. “You’re a lot brighter than you look, Roth.” She shook her head. “I won’t let her leave until we’ve fixed this mess the two of you have gotten yourselves into.” She looked as pleased as punch, despite her harsh words.

  “Why is it that you’re not angry with me, my lady?”

  Cleo raised her brows. ‘Why? Because it would be a complete waste of my time, of course. You don’t really regret what happened tonight, but Faith certainly does. And I’m reasonably sure she’ll make quite certain you’ll come to wish you’d never laid a finger on her.” Her bright blue eyes twinkled at him. “I’m merely going to sit back and enjoy the show.” She broke off and glanced across the room to see Jonathon Lloyd making his way across the raised dais upon which the orchestra was arranged. She grabbed his arm urgently and pointed Gareth toward the stairs. “Go now and stand by F
aith. She’ll be needing you in just a moment.”

  Gareth looked down at her for a second longer and walked away, pushing through the crowd as the music came to a sudden discordant halt and the dancing couples looked around in surprise. He spotted Faith about twenty yards away and headed toward her just as Jonathon raised his voice and the noise of the crowd died down.

  Faith looked up at Jonathon curiously, wondering what he could possibly be doing, but grateful the attention of the guests was no longer so focused on her. She looked around for her aunt, thinking now would be the perfect time to slip away unnoticed. What she saw instead was Gareth heading straight for her.

  Her lips thinned and her heart began pounding in sudden panic. She tried to warn him away with her eyes, but still he came, skillfully stepping around people who stood in his way. She looked in another direction and shook her head in resignation, then resolutely decided to act as if he weren’t there. Pointedly, she turned her back and lifted her chin, focusing her attention on Jonathon, who had begun speaking.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a rather unexpected announcement to make this evening. Those of you who know me best know that I seldom enjoy standing in front of a crowd making a scene. That’s more my wife’s way.” A wave of laughter swept the room, for Amanda Lloyd had always been the life of any party, in direct contrast to her more taciturn husband. “However, she has asked me to do this tonight, and as I’m seldom able to refuse her anything, here I stand before you.

  “Earlier this evening, an agreement was reached during a family meeting that will soon become known all over England. Some will be surprised by this agreement, some will be disappointed, and some, myself included, will be deeply relieved. The agreement to which I refer will be published in all the papers tomorrow, but since most of our close friends are in attendance tonight, we thought we’d just let you be the first to know.”

  Jonathon paused a moment for effect, then turned and looked deliberately at the foot of the ballroom steps where Faith stood wondering at his meaning. She felt Gareth arrive at her side just then and fervently wished he hadn’t, because now people were turning to see whom the Earl of Seth was regarding. They would all see Gareth standing next to her and would begin discussing the scandal afresh.

  With grim determination, she ignored the man at her side and stared fixedly at the dais, watching as Amanda joined her husband. Aunt Cleo appeared out of nowhere to take her arm on the side opposite Gareth.

  As soon as he saw that all the players were in place, Jonathon glanced down at Amanda, took her hand, and began speaking again. “Friends, I’d like to formally announce the engagement of my younger brother Gareth, the Marquess of Roth.”

  A great gasp went up from the crowd, and Faith stiffened in sudden shock. Who was the cad going to wed? And why in the world had he been kissing her the night his engagement was to be announced?

  The Earl of Seth hesitated no longer in providing that information. “He is going to marry Miss Faith Ackerly.”

  Eleven

  To Faith, it all seemed to happen slowly. Almost as one body the crowd turned, stared at them, and began applauding. She could see their moving hands and lips, but the sounds of clapping and the words of enthusiastic congratulations were coming to her as if from far away. Numbly she felt a smile arrange itself on her face, years of correct upbringing coming to her rescue.

  She felt herself being enfolded in awarm hug fromAunt Cleo, who stood on tiptoe and whispered, “You’re doing quite well, my dear, but please do try to stop looking so much like a wounded deer.”

  Faith felt herself nod in agreement. She turned to look up at Gareth, who was keeping up his part of the charade by smiling down at her in a tender and proprietary way. She watched his lips move and heard him say, “Shall we dance, princess?” But she couldn’t answer, could only nod in response.

  As if in a trance, she placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, the other guests still applauding wildly as they moved aside to open an aisle through which the couple might walk. Faith felt herself nodding and smiling back at them from long-ingrained habit, but still the only thing that anchored her in reality was her hand on Gareth’s arm and the warmth of his hand covering hers.

  Faith and Gareth neared the dance floor, and Jonathon signaled the conductor to begin a waltz. Gareth turned to Faith and bowed. She sank into a graceful curtsy. And then, all at once, she was whirled away, spun breathlessly round and round the dance floor just as she had been that first night on the balcony.

  Amanda watched the pair dance for a few moments, then nudged Jonathon, her face wreathed in a happy, relieved smile. “That went well, I think.” She inclined her head toward the dance floor. “You wouldn’t care to join them, would you?”

  He didn’t answer, but jumped down from the dais, caught her hands in his, and pulled her down after him. “Only if you think we can show them a proper waltz,” he said. Laughing as they spun away, Amanda agreed to do just that.

  Not everyone was as pleased. On the edge of the room, her face pale with fury, Evelyn Hedgepath watched the newly engaged couple with venomous eyes. She was so wrapped up in her anger, she didn’t even notice when Cleo Egerton appeared beside her. “They do make a rather lovely couple, don’t you think, Evelyn?”

  The younger widow barely managed to stifle a sharp retort. She said in a tight voice, “Why yes, Lady Egerton. They do, at that. Had I known the situation, I wouldn’t have felt such a need to—”

  Cleo cut her off. “Bah! You knew precisely what you were doing. As it stands, you’ve forced something that should have—and I believe would have—developed naturally to progress with unhealthy haste.”

  Evelyn drew herself up indignantly. “I have no idea what you mean, my lady.”

  “Then perhaps I can make it clear, so that we each have an understanding of one another. You dumped Gareth because he had no evident hope of being anything more than a second son, and you hopped in bed with that pea brain Grimsby, who possessed the one thing Gareth did not: a title that outstripped the one held by your dead husband. Now, to your dismay, Gareth has not only inherited a title but outranks your new lover—whom you summarily dropped to publicly and shamefully chase once again after Gareth.”

  “I don’t have to listen to this.”

  Cleo thumped her cane with angry impatience. “No, but I’ll offer some advice to which you might consider listening. I suggest a long rest in the country, Evelyn. Your antics have been tolerated to this point because they are, sadly, all too common within our social set. However, you crossed the line this evening. This family will close ranks to protect its own. You’d never be received into a decent drawing room or be invited to any ball of importance again.”

  Evelyn stared into the sharp blue eyes of the dowager for a long moment before her own gaze skittered away and fell, once again, upon the dance floor, now shared by a number of waltzing couples. She thinned her lips, inclined her head slightly in Cleo’s direction, and gathered her skirts in one hand. “Good night, Lady Egerton,” she said, her tone even.

  “Good night, Evelyn.” Cleo turned away, dismissing the younger woman, and resumed watching her niece and soon-to-be nephew-in-law.

  As the dance floor filled up around them, Faith began to relax. She looked up at Gareth with a smile, but her heart remained troubled. “How did we manage to get into this predicament?” she murmured.

  He smiled warmly down at her. “How about if we concentrate on how to get out of it instead?”

  Faith nodded tentatively, then gave him an apologetic look. “This is all my fault, I’m afraid. I should never have asked you to meet me alone.”

  The music ended then, and everyone turned to applaud the musicians. Faith sank into another curtsy before allowing Gareth to lead her off the dance floor. But he slowed his steps a bit, and she looked up at him in question.

  “You do know that as soon as we step off this floor we are going to be inundated with well-wishers and probably won’
t get another moment to ourselves.”

  Faith nodded.

  He glanced around to see if anyone was listening. “Could you satisfy my curiosity about something?”

  Faith tilted her head to the side and gave him a long, silent look.

  He leaned down. “What was the real reason you lured me out into a dark garden in the middle of one of the biggest balls of the Season?”

  At that, Faith bit her lip and looked down. She shuddered.

  Alarmed, Gareth stopped and turned her to face him, no longer caring what the watching throng thought. He slipped a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. “Faith, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—” He stopped.

  His fiancée looked up at him, her gray eyes shining with tears of mirth. Faith Ackerly, the ever-composed, ever-correct Society beauty, was laughing uncontrollably in the middle of the dance floor. “I’m sorry, my lord,” she choked out, then took a deep breath and composed herself. “It just struck me as ironic that I lured you into a compromising situation, ruined your reputation, and now it appears I’ll have to marry you in order to repair the damage.”

  Gareth smiled, but his heart constricted painfully at her words, for he knew that no matter what happened between them, she would always look back upon this situation and recall how she was forced to become his wife. He’d intended to court her and spoil her, to dance attendance and woo her until she couldn’t imagine a life without him. “A bit of a twist on the tired old theme, isn’t it?”

  Faith nodded. “I really did mean to apologize for the way I treated you.” Her expression was sober.

  “You needed to do that in private?”

  She looked uncomfortable. “Well, I wasn’t sure how you would react,” she said. “You see, I was also going to suggest that we not see each other again.” She winced inwardly and watched his face. He continued to smile, but some of the warmth left his eyes.

  “I do see,” he said, drew her arm back through his, and turned to walk to where Amanda was now standing with Lady Egerton. “A love match this is not. Shall we go and face our horribly deluded public, princess?”

 

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