She felt as if she were flying, suspended from reality. Faith could hear her own heartbeat, loud and pounding in her ears. It was almost too much happiness to bear.
Hesitantly she looked at him. He was leaning back against the cushions of the love seat, totally at ease, his manner relaxed, almost casual. As if becoming engaged was a common, everyday occurrence. For a moment, she envied his cavalier attitude.
Or perhaps this just wasn’t as important and momentous an occasion to him as it was for her.
“There is something that I need to tell you.”
The solemn tone of Griffin’s voice chiseled at Faith’s happiness. She swallowed convulsively. “Yes?”
“I have a child. A son.” Griffin looked at her keenly. “I brought him home to England with me from the Colonies.”
Faith’s knees turned to water. A son! Oh, dear, how could she possibly stand any more joy. In one fell swoop those secret longings she had nearly buried within herself had become a stark reality. Not only was she at long last going to become a wife, but also a mother.
Faith felt a sudden, emotional ache in her throat. She swallowed hard, struggling to speak evenly. “I did not realize that you had been married, my lord.”
Something flickered briefly in Griffin’s eyes. “My business affairs kept me traveling to distant ports most of the year. We did not live together.”
“Only long enough to have a child?” she quipped. His head jerked up and her smile of delight widened. A son! She was going to be a mother, and there was nothing in the universe that could dim that joy. “You are very good at keeping secrets, sir. I had not heard about your child. Is he at school?”
“No, he is too young to be sent away to school. He is nearly four years old.” Griffin’s expression grew thoughtful, and the frown between his brow eased. “Would you prefer that I have him sent away?”
“Goodness, no!” Faith exclaimed in horror. “I was merely applauding your powers of discretion. Harrowby is a small village. I’ve never had any success in keeping my affairs from becoming the object of town gossip, yet you have managed to keep both your former marriage and heir a private matter.” Faith leaned forward eagerly. “Tell me more about your little boy.”
Griffin smiled with obvious relief. “He is a sturdy lad, quick of mind, with a natural curiosity, yet he is oddly self-contained for one so young. He managed the crossing well, barely having any seasickness.”
“Ah, a natural sailor, just like his father.” The pride in Griffin’s voice pleased Faith mightily. It was clear he held his child in great affection. She took that as a sign that bode well for her own future offspring, if they should be so blessed.
“Coming to England has been a difficult adjustment for him, however.” Griffin sighed. “His nursemaid returned to the Colonies soon after we arrived. She was more like a surrogate mother to him, since his own died nearly a year ago. At this point, I’m afraid I am more of a stranger than father to him.”
“Poor lad. It must all be so frightening and confusing for him. Have you engaged a new nurse?”
“I did, but the girl was not suitable. My sister Harriet has since interviewed several young women for the post, but had not settled upon one when I left to come to London.”
Faith nodded her head vigorously. “That shall be my first duty when we return home. After all, it is a mother’s responsibility to see to the welfare of her children, not an aunt’s.” She dipped her head shyly. “Do you think he will be pleased to have me as his new mother?”
“I have a feeling that young Neville will be delighted.”
“Neville?” Faith echoed weakly. “The boy’s name is Neville?”
The customary amusement faded from Griffin’s handsome features. “I was away at sea when he was born. His mother thought to honor my family by naming him after my brother.”
“Oh, dear.” Faith flushed deeply and looked away. Who would ever have believed such rotten luck? Of all the names in Christendom, why did the woman have to select that one? Could she not have named the child after his father? Or grandfather?
It seemed as though Faith was destined to remain tied to the past. Now, through this innocent child, she would forever be reminded, most likely each day, of someone she had longed to forget.
“Faith?”
She lifted her head automatically. They stared at each other for a few long, tense moments.
“It really is an awful name, isn’t it?” she ventured softly.
The corners of Griffin’s mouth began to slowly crack, and then he burst out laughing. “ ’Tis dreadful. Hardly an appropriate name for a little boy. I remember my brother never liked it, either. Perhaps we shall give our young Neville a nickname.”
“That’s a splendid idea. I’m sure if we put our heads together we can come up with a name that is agreeable to all of us.”
“We shall make that our first task when we return home,” Griffin decided. “A new name for our son.”
“Yes,” Faith said softly, as a tempest of emotions swirled through her. She liked how he had referred to the child as our son, and was even more pleased with the notion of being included in selecting a nickname for the boy. It made it seem as if they were already becoming a family.
“Since you are of age, I assume there is no one I need to ask permission for your hand in marriage?” Griffin inquired.
“There is no one,” Faith responded shyly. A fleeting memory of her father and how delighted he would have been with this sudden turn of events tugged at her heart. “However, I would like to consult with Meredith’s solicitor again, to make certain that I will be able to retain ownership of Mayfair Manor once we are wed.”
“An excellent suggestion.” Griffin rose to his feet. “I shall accompany you.”
He had not phrased his words in the form of a question, yet the ensuing silence told Faith that Griffin would at least listen to her objections if she decided he should not be at the meeting with the lawyer. Since she had none, she remained quiet.
“I prefer not to wait long to formalize our vows,” Griffin continued. “Would you mind very much if we forgo all the fuss of a formal wedding and marry quietly? I can easily and quickly obtain a special license.”
Return to Harrowby a married woman! Faith could think of nothing she would like better. “A quiet ceremony will do very nicely. My only request is that Meredith, her two brothers, and Aunt Agatha are in attendance.”
“That can easily be arranged.” Griffin extracted a gold timepiece from the pocket of his waistcoat and consulted it. “There is ample time to begin organizing things this afternoon. Will Thursday morning suit?”
“Yes.” Faith closed her eyes briefly. Thursday was a mere three days away. “I feel like I should pinch myself, to make certain this isn’t all a dream.” She gave him an impish grin. “Or perhaps I should pinch you, instead?”
“Do so at your own peril, my dear,” Griffin countered, as a roguish smile surfaced.
Faith shivered. That grin reminded her of all the things she found nearly irresistible about the man—the easy charm, the masculine vitality, the sensual strength. Their eyes locked, and something strange and intimate seemed to pass between them.
Griffin lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft, delicate kiss on the top of her wrist. At his warm touch, the hunger and longing inside her once more sprang to life.
Faith involuntarily shivered again, and she wondered how on earth she was going to wait until Thursday.
“I still don’t understand why we must attend Lady Dillard’s ball,” Faith declared grimly, as her shoulder pressed sharply against Meredith’s.
The carriage rattled down the cobbled road, swaying and jostling the four passengers inside. Faith tried glaring at Griffin, who was seated directly opposite her, but the approaching darkness lessened the effect of demonstrating her ire. “Could we not have written Lady Dillard a note, explaining the situation? Or called upon her in private?”
“No,” Griffin replied firmly. “
Since you made your initial appearance at her home as Miss Maxwell, ’tis only fitting you should now reveal the truth at her ball. Besides, it is logical to assume that many of the same guests who attended the musical evening will be in attendance tonight. It will be much simpler and far more efficient to let everyone else know the truth also.”
Faith crossed her arms beneath her breast and huffed loudly. “I shall be changing my name the moment we are married. Who will even remember that I was, for a most brief time, Miss Maxwell?”
“Probably someone you don’t wish to,” Griffin replied philosophically. “You must trust me on this, Faith. It is far better to take the matter in hand now.”
“His lordship is right,” Aunt Agatha agreed with an enthusiastic bobbing of her head. “Best to get this silly mess settled.”
Faith huffed out another breath and tried glaring at Meredith’s elderly aunt. Ever since she had agreed to marry him, only two days ago, Griffin had become a constant visitor to the household.
He took meals at Meredith’s home, engaged an elegant hired coach for carriage rides to the park at the fashionable afternoon hour, and even accompanied the three women to the shops on Bond street. And in that short time he had managed to somehow completely charm the older woman.
It was a pattern that Faith could not avoid noticing. It seemed that nearly any female Griffin came in contact with, be it nobility or gentry or common maid, seemed to fall instantly under his spell.
Even Merry was starting to thaw toward him.
“I still think we could have written Lady Dillard a note,” Faith persisted peevishly.
She frowned at Griffin in the dimly lit carriage, then clamped hard on her jaw. Even though Faith knew she had already lost this battle, she could not seem to let the matter drop. Partly because she was very nervous about facing all these exalted people with her former lie and partly because she chafed at taking orders from Griffin. It was one aspect of their engagement she hadn’t fully anticipated.
If her fiance was disturbed by her negativity, he gave no indication, replying calmly, “After we are married, I don’t plan on spending a great amount of time in town; however, I would certainly be remiss in my duty if I allowed this charade to go uncorrected.
“I realize you wish to let the matter go unaddressed, but honestly Faith, would you really prefer that I throw my cloak over your head and hide you from view each time we encounter someone who knew you as Miss Maxwell?”
“Perhaps I could learn to press myself behind architectural columns or perfect leaping into shrubbery to conceal myself,” Faith suggested, summoning up her brightest smile. “Then we wouldn’t have to be so concerned about you needing to toss your garments over my head.”
Griffin’s gaze found hers in the murky darkness of the coach. “I shall want to show you off when you are my wife, not hide you.”
It was a gallant, flattering sentiment, but Faith was too distraught to fully appreciate it. “I don’t understand why it should matter so much,” she grumbled.
“Society can be most unforgiving,” Meredith said. “They are quick to criticize and even quicker to condemn. If you reveal the truth now, there will be a minor ripple, but if you attempt to conceal it, a great wave of scandal might someday wash over the entire family. When you least expect it.”
“How dire,” Faith mumbled under her breath, feeling a sting of betrayal at Merry’s agreement with Griffin. Was there no one at all who would take up her side in this discussion?
Griffin reached across the small space that separated them and took Faith’s hand. He had removed his gloves for the short carriage ride to Lady Dillard’s home. Faith could feel the strength and power in his fists and a slight roughness in his palms. Yet the bones of his hands were long and elegant.
“I’m nervous,” Faith blurted out.
“I realize that,” Griffin replied, cocking his head to one side. “I promise to stay unfashionably glued to your side throughout the evening. And Lady Meredith and Aunt Agatha are here to lend support. You are not alone, Faith.”
She felt the heat flare in her cheeks. They were all trying to be supportive of her and she was acting like a spoiled child. The course had been set; she had no choice but to follow it. The least she could do was approach it with determination and dignity.
Resolutely, Faith buried her doubts and launched into a nonsensical discussion about the weather. This lighthearted conversation continued for the remainder of the journey and seemed to place everyone at ease.
Still, the nerves that had settled during the carriage ride quickly began churning inside Faith the moment they started climbing the long circular stairway that led to Lady Dillard’s ballroom. Faith kept her chin raised at an almost ridiculously high angle, determined to show no fear.
It was, however, impossible to keep her breathing even as the footman announced in a bored monotone, “Viscount Dewhurst, Lady Agatha Hastings, Lady Meredith Barrington, and Miss Faith Linden.”
Faith had expected hushed whispers and stares, perhaps a finger or two pointed accusingly in her direction. Yet it seemed that no one in the elegantly crowded ballroom was the least bit interested in their party’s arrival, aside from a few lush-looking females. And their gazes were rather blatantly directed at Viscount Dewhurst.
As the four approached the receiving line, Faith was relieved to note they were alone with their hosts. She managed a wobbly curtsy for Lord and Lady Dillard and braced herself for trouble, all the while praying she might yet escape a completely embarrassing explanation.
Then Lady Dillard cast a quizzical gaze at her that sent Faith’s hopes plummeting.
“What? What did that dolt of a servant say? I apologize for my footman, Miss Maxwell. He’s gotten your name wrong, the fool.” Lady Dillard turned and tapped her fan insistently on the sleeve of the elderly gentleman at her side. “I think the servants have been getting into the wine again, Lord Dillard. They are getting the guests’ names muddled. Summon the butler at once, so he may give the man the severe dressing-down he deserves.”
“Can it not wait until after the party?” Lord Dillard inquired wearily.
“It most assuredly cannot!” Lady Dillard stomped her foot. “I will not have my guests insulted by foolish servants.”
Griffin raised a forestalling hand. “Please, Lady Dillard, there is no need to speak with your servant. He did not make a mistake. This charming young woman is indeed Miss Faith Linden, very soon to be the Viscountess Dewhurst.”
Lady Dillard’s eyes narrowed. “I thought her name was Maxwell.”
“I’m afraid you must lay the blame for that at my feet,” Griffin said. He leaned closer and whispered in the older woman’s ear. “We had a silly argument, and she thought to avoid me by hiding out in London. Fortunately, I was able to track her down and smooth her ruffled feathers. I so hope you will offer your felicitations. We are to be married tomorrow.”
Lady Dillard glanced again at Faith, but this time her eyes were alive with speculation. “Well, if you have chosen her, Lord Dewhurst, then she must be worthy in ways that are not so immediately apparent.”
“You have no idea,” Griffin replied. “Faith has taught me that in matters of the heart a mortal man has no recourse but to follow his emotions.”
It was precisely the right thing to say. Griffin’s words expertly and cannily tapped into Lady Dillard’s romantic side. She smiled her approval at the couple.
“I’m so pleased you were able to attend my ball,” Lady Dillard replied. “I hope you enjoy yourselves this evening.”
With a start, Faith realized the interview was over. She gave Lord and Lady Dillard a quick curtsy and clutched tightly on to Griffin’s arm as he led her away. It was not until she reached the crowded ballroom floor that Faith realized she had not uttered a word directly to Lady Dillard. Griffin had done all of the talking and charming. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so horrible to on occasion allow him to control a situation.
“Shall we dance?” Griffin suggested
, holding out his hand.
“I do not have permission to waltz,” Faith cried out, as he pulled her onto the floor. “The last thing we need to do is create a scandal. I thought the purpose of our coming here this evening was to avoid one.”
“Ah, but this time we shall create a scandal together.” He favored her with a smile so wickedly handsome it made her heart leap. “That makes it all the more exciting.”
Faith rolled her eyes at his male logic. Yet she made no protest as he swept her into his arms and whirled her onto the dance floor.
Though she very much enjoyed dancing, Faith had done little of it in public. And never a waltz. But the excellent dance instructor her father had insisted on hiring had done his job well. She was able to follow Griffin’s lead without treading on his toes.
They completed the circuit of the large dance floor twice before she was able to glance at the other couples. Faith immediately noticed that the other women were not being held as intimately by their partners. Griffin’s hand was firmly pressed into the small of her back, and mere inches separated their upper bodies.
“I think you are holding me improperly close, my lord,” Faith whispered.
“Do you object?”
She tilted up her head and gazed into his eyes. “Quite the contrary. I prefer it.”
He answered her saucy quip by pulling her even closer. Faith relaxed a little and smiled, enjoying thoroughly the feel of the muscled arms that held her, the view of the broad chest displayed before her, the freshly washed scent of his snowy white cravat.
“How are your nerves?” Griffin asked.
“Better, but not yet conquered. I’m hoping we won’t have to stay long this evening.”
“If I know Lady Dillard as well as I think I do, the gossip about our impending marriage and your little prank to avoid me should be spreading through the ballroom like wildfire. It shall make our task far easier.”
“Good.”
To Wed A Viscount Page 9