Faith (7 page)

Ten

G
areth 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 had 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.

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.