He laughed at the ridiculous pronouncement, but Faith still drew in a breath, fearing she would miss a step. “I believe my father would prefer me to marry Sir William.”
“Ah, a cruel thrust, Lady Faith. You don’t spare a man’s feelings.”
“I believe your shoulders are strong enough to bear it.” Faith instantly regretted her words, as her hand rested on his shoulder and she could feel the strength and warmth of him through her glove.
“I remember what a thin, feisty child you were,” Vaughn said with a glint of humor warming his eyes. “You used to climb a tree like a monkey.”
Her face heated. “I was never thin, and it’s extremely bad manners to suggest it.”
“You’d prefer I uttered flowery compliments?” He cocked a brow. “I’m sure you get enough of those.”
Faith did, but she was happy to receive more, and from him especially. “And I would prefer not to be reminded of my past misdemeanors.”
“I quite agree.” He bowed his head with a rueful and very charming smile. “I apologize.”
Vaughn was an accomplished dancer. She was aware of the female gazes following them as they turned on the floor. She’d caught that wicked gleam in his eyes and didn’t believe his apology for a minute. He was outrageous. Why did he refuse to bow to society’s conventions?
“I could list your misdemeanors, my lord,” Faith said, “but I’m afraid the dance won’t be long enough.”
Vaughn chuckled. “What would you know of such things, Lady Faith?”
“You have been the subject of village gossip for some time.”
His eyes gleamed beneath a fringe of thick, dark lashes. “Indeed? What has been said about me?”
She shook her head. He was incorrigible. “Nothing that would please you, sir.”
“Ah, my luck in life, I fear.” He did not look particularly put out. “My brothers have all been exemplary, never put a foot wrong. It behooved me to add some color to the family.”
“You’ve made a remarkably good job of it,” Faith said, unable to keep the laughter from her voice.
“You have a lovely laugh, like water bubbling over rocks in a brook.”
“My goodness! You are waxing lyrical, my lord.” She enjoyed the gleam of interest in his eyes that she’d never found in Fitzgibbon’s anxious gaze.
“I am not inclined to reciting poetry, I confess, but should you wish it, I seem to remember something of the poetry drummed into us at Eton. Now…what about this?
Come away, come, sweet love!
The golden morning wastes,
While the sun from his sphere
His fiery arrows casts,
Making all the shadows fly…
I can’t remember the rest, and I’ve no idea who penned the poem.”
Faith fought to hide her disappointment. It was far too brief; she could have listened to his husky tones for hours. “I declare you make a mockery of flirting, sir.” Many men had flirted with her, but oddly, even though Vaughn had his tongue firmly in his cheek, the moment somehow eclipsed any of the others.
“What would you have me say? That your nose is perfection? It is.”
Faith had to laugh. “My nose is far from classical; it tips up at the end.”
“I find classical beauty rather cold and boring.”
“I wonder if that’s true. Beauty is fascinating. The Ancient Greeks certainly thought so.”
“I doubt statues ever stirred a man’s lust, even an Ancient Greek’s.”
Faith widened her eyes. “My lord! You should not say such things.” She looked around hastily at the dancers nearby. No one seemed to have heard. “I fear women are seldom satisfied with their appearance. Mercy has a perfectly straight nose, and yet she wishes for a tip-tilted one. She has devised a strap with wires attached that hook onto her ears. She believes it will be effective if she uses it every night until her come out.”
Vaughn laughed.
“Oh please don’t mention it to her,” Faith said, aghast that she’d told him. She found trustworthiness in Vaughn’s handsome eyes, which, annoyingly, drew her into indiscretion.
He grinned. “I promise but shall watch the development of Mercy’s nose with interest.”
The music ended, and Faith became aware of where they were, surrounded by couples preparing to promenade from the floor. She’d felt as if they were the only two people in the room.
Vaughn escorted Faith to her mother. “Lady Baxendale.”
Lady Baxendale nodded. “Are you staying long in Tunbridge Wells, my lord?”
“Not an inordinate amount of time, my lady.” With a wry smile and a bow, he left them.
Her mother turned to Faith with a perplexed frown. “You won’t want to give Lord Fitzgibbon the wrong idea, dear. He would expect his wife to have eyes only for him.”
Faith bit her lip. “I have not yet decided to marry Lord Fitzgibbon.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Is it because Lord Vaughn has returned?”
“It has nothing to do with Lord Vaughn,” she said, although it had everything to do with him, if indirectly.
Her mother nodded. “I suppose I must at least talk to Fitzgibbon’s mother, although I do find the woman challenging. And where is Honor? I’ve hardly spoken to her tonight.”
“She was dancing with Edward earlier.” Faith looked around. “She might be on the terrace.”
“Go and find her, Faith. And smile, dear, or Fitzgibbon will think you don’t like him.”
Faith wanted to speak to Honor too. She wouldn’t urge Faith to marry a man who not only failed to raise her pulse above its steady beating but also provoked her sympathy when he expressed his concern about displeasing his mother.
She walked out onto the terrace where Miss Anna Seabrook and her sister, Fiona, were standing at the balustrade.
“Such a lovely evening. Aren’t the magnolias splendid this year?” Anna said, exuberantly drawing in a noisy breath of perfumed air.
“Yes, glorious. I’m looking for Honor.”
“I saw her,” Miss Fiona said. “She strolled into the gardens on her husband’s arm.”
Faith wouldn’t disturb them. She turned to re-enter through the French windows.
“Are you looking for someone, Lady Faith?” Lord Vaughn walked up the steps from the garden.
“Honor, but it’s of no importance.”
“I just left her with Edward. They’re walking by the lake. Shall I take you to them?”
The lanterns looked magical amongst the trees. Faith had no desire to return to the ballroom and come under the concerned gaze of Lord Fitzgibbon. To dally a moment in the moonlight with Vaughn had infinitely more appeal. After all, he was family of a sort.
“If you would be so kind, thank you.”
They walked along the path lit by braziers, the soft air sweetly perfumed with magnolia blossoms.
“Won’t your betrothed wonder where you are?”
“Lord Fitzgibbon is not my betrothed.”
“Not as yet.”
Faith remained silent. She would not discuss Lord Fitzgibbon with him. She owed Lord Fitzgibbon that much she supposed.
Vaughn lifted his chin to take in the great arc of sky above them. “The sky is magnificent tonight. Some say strolling under a full moon stirs one’s passions.”
Walking alone with him suddenly seemed dangerous, especially on an evening such as this. She frowned up at the purple night sky as if it plotted against her, the stars like diamonds hanging suspended around a golden moon. Exasperated at how tempted she was to indulge him in a scandalous tête-à-tête, she took a steadying breath.
“It merely makes me thankful that I can see where I’m walking.”
“Oh, Faith.” Vaughn’s husky tone condemned her. His arm brushed against hers on the narrow path, and her heart picked up a beat. He cast her a sidelong glance. “I remember you as spirited and quite determined. Is it Fitzgibbon who has changed you? You’ve become a sleeping beauty.”
&n
bsp; His words stuck at her very core. Enraged, Faith stopped and swung around to face him. She curled her fingers into her palm, yearning to slap him. “How well said, my lord! You have managed to insult both of us in one fell swoop!”
Vaughn chuckled. He eyed her fist, and his long fingers curled around her wrist. He raised her hand and kissed her gloved fingers. “Yes I rather think it was. I hoped I might wake you in time.”
She pulled her hand away. His firm, warm touch, even through her glove, made her want to draw closer. “You…you are outrageous, sir. You know a woman cannot always choose who she marries.”
“Fitzgibbon is a sensible choice; he can give you an easy life with no surprises. Now why did I think that would not suit you?” The light from a burning torch flickered across his face, bright enough for her to see his intense expression.
“We grow up and have responsibilities. At least some of us do,” she added with a pointed glance.
“I remember the young Faith, driven by curiosity and a passion for life, climbing trees in the middle of a hunt with guns going off all over the wood.” He gazed down at her. “I gave you a flower. Do you remember?”
“Did you? Such a long time ago.” She hoped Charity would never tell him she’d pressed the wildflower in her Bible.
“I’m not sure why I felt compelled to say such things. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”
Was he teasing her? “I assure you I’m not upset. Your opinion doesn’t concern me,” she said waspishly.
He shook his head, regretfully. “I have hurt you. Forgive me?”
She bit her lip as a quick and disturbing thought struck her. What if Vaughn was right? After all, he had merely voiced what lurked in her heart.
“We are almost at the lake,” Vaughn said. “I shall leave you in peace.”
She had disappointed him. Faith drew in a deep breath as emotion coiled through her, along with an even more terrifying realization; she was disappointed in herself! She took a step closer and launched herself into his arms.
With a grunt of surprise, Vaughn caught her, stepping backward.
“I need you to kiss me,” Faith said urgently.
Vaughn recovered quickly, his strong arm around her waist. He steadied her, his hand on her back. Up close, she studied his handsome face as his dark brows peaked above confused green eyes.
“I’m happy to oblige, but why?”
Her hand rested on his broad chest, her heart hammering foolishly. Flushed with embarrassment at her uncharacteristic act of rebellion, she wriggled to free herself. “I’m sorry I….”
Vaughn’s mouth crushed hers, his arms enfolding her against his hard body. His kiss was more than a brief touch of lips; he inhaled sharply as he drew her closer. Suddenly it wasn’t embarrassing or awkward but quite delicious. His lithe body pressed against hers. He smelled of a blend of citrus and spice, starched linens, and clean male. When he drew his tongue along the seam of her lips, her knees almost buckled. As her head was swimming at the taste of him and the warmth of him, he released her with a murmured oath, leaving her gasping.
“Faith, what are you about? I’m only flesh and blood,” he said, his voice husky. She hastily stepped back.
“Thank you, my lord.”
“I’m at your service,” he said with a bemused laugh. “You have only to ask me.”
Her cheeks heated at the surprised amusement in his voice. “I shan’t ask again. I needed to find out something.” She was pleased at how cool she sounded, although her pulse still thudded in her throat.
He stiffened. “I was some kind of experiment? A last fling before you marry a dull dog?” Vaughn huffed. “Women!” He turned away on the path. “Your sister is on the other side of that copse of trees,” he said over his shoulder. “I suggest you cough before you join them.”
Faith guiltily listened to his angry footsteps as he strode back to the house. Vaughn’s claim that she was like a sleeping beauty had provoked her. It was his fault. His manner made her forget her determination to be what her father wished of her. But she hadn’t expected him to be insulted. Why, he must have kissed hundreds of women. He was certainly accomplished. She put her gloved fingers to her lips as blood coursed thought her veins like a warm river. Might he have enjoyed the kiss? She revisited the whole thing in her mind, how he held her, his sharp intake of breath, the pressure of his lips, then breathed out in an annoyed huff. Best she didn’t dwell on whether he did or not. Even though Vaughn would likely never speak to her again, the kiss had served its purpose. Her decision was made. Despite the furor she would face, she would not marry Lord Fitzgibbon.
Faith continued down the path towards the lake. She broke into a fit of coughing as she circumnavigated the bushes just in time to see Honor and Edward draw apart.
“Faith!” Honor exclaimed. “Why are you wandering about the gardens alone?”
“You’re not catching cold are you, Faith?” Edward asked in an amused voice.
“No, Edward. That is… Honor, I need your help.”
****
Vaughn strode back to the house, grinding his teeth. Despite the hurt Faith’s confession had dealt him, he couldn’t forget the kiss. Her fragrant, flowery scent, her breasts pressing against his chest, and the curve of her waist beneath his hands were scored into his mind as he crossed the terrace. Cursing under his breath, he stepped through the French windows into the ballroom. Ladies dressed in their finery danced, mingled, and chatted. Some paused and gazed in his direction. Vaughn smoothed his cravat. He would dance with every available young woman until he’d banished Faith from his memory.
Hours later, Vaughn had worn out his shoe leather. Even after Chaloner slapped him on the back and praised his dedication to ensure the ball a success, the evening hadn’t improved. Vaughn had struggled to keep his gaze from wandering to Faith while he spent endless hours in tedious conversation with his partners, none of whom gave him a questioning glance or a wry smile the way she did. None of them had big blue eyes, which could search his very soul one minute and appear vulnerable the next.
When, at last, the guests all departed, he headed for the library, intending to get very drunk. He paused, his hand on the crystal decanter of brandy, and uttered another string of curses, more heated than the last, causing a footman at the door to retreat into the corridor. Chaloner would never finance him if he found him in his cups. Vaughn was engaged to ride with him before noon.
Vaughn left the library and headed for the billiard room. He’d spend the few hours until dawn awake. It was useless to court sleep.
He sent the ball rolling across the green baize in the quiet wood-paneled room. Faith’s infatuation had flattered him two years ago. But tonight, despite the kiss, he very much doubted he measured up in her estimation. And that hurt. She had adored him once, and he had the perverse desire for her to do it again.
Edward walked into the room. “Still up?”
“As are you,” Vaughn said, striking a ball.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Edward chose a billiard cue and returned to the table. “How about a game?”
Vaughn set the balls up. “What worries you? A case?”
Edward lined up the cue ball and struck the red, hitting it into the side pocket. “A legal matter, yes, but something else.”
“Oh?”
“Young Faith refuses to marry Lord Fitzgibbon.”
About to take a hit, Vaughn straightened and wrestled silently with the rush of irrational pleasure. “Really? What reason did she give?” Really, it was no business of his. He was glad for her, of course, because Fitzgibbon was a bore.
His brother tipped his head to the side. “I rather thought you might supply the answer.”
Vaughn’s eyebrows rose. “Why me?”
“Not much good if you have given Faith some hope you will marry her. Is there?”
Vaughn threw down his cue. “Blast it, Edward. Not you too! Of course I didn’t. Does everyone here think me a bounder?”
“No one thinks
any such a thing.” Edward grabbed his arm when Vaughn’s cue was in danger of damaging the baize. “And least of all me. But one must be realistic. Faith might still have a soft spot for you.”
Vaughn tried to hide the warmth flooding through him at Edward’s statement. It was gone in an instant. He’d been someone to toy with, to test the waters. He almost growled at the thought. “I very much doubt it. But if she has, she’ll get over it soon enough.”
“Yes. Good. After you discourage her.”
“I’m sure her father will do that.”
“She’s about to go against Baxendale’s wishes. It will make trouble for her at home. She might turn to you.”
“And if she does?”
“Do the right thing. Make it plain you’re not interested.”
“You want me to return to my rooms in London?”
“Of course not. But Chaloner and Lavinia plan several social engagements in the next sennight, which will give you the opportunity to show more interest in another lady.”
Vaughn gazed at Edward. Another of his brothers who married the woman he wanted. “What would you have done if I’d advised you not to pursue Honor?”
“That’s different.”
“Why is it different? Baxendale wasn’t over fond of you for a son-in-law either.”
“That’s precisely my point. Baxendale would not countenance another Brandreth for one of his daughters. Especially one even more impoverished than the last.” Edward grinned. He gestured to the table. “It’s your shot.”
His shoulders tight, Vaughn stuck a ball. It missed by a yard and rolled off to come to rest against the cushion. “I think you give me more credit for charm than I possess,” he said. “And Faith appears stronger than one would expect from someone so dainty.”
Edward raised an eyebrow. “Dainty, eh?”
“I’m not blind, Edward. Faith is both petite and graceful, but I believe she has grit. Defying her father proves it so.”
“Honor and I hate to see Faith unhappy.” Edward replaced his cue in the rack. “This game is going nowhere. I believe I’ll turn in.”
Lady Faith Takes a Leap Page 3