Heiress on the Run (Harlequin Romance) (7 page)

And he had every right to be proud of that.

But when he finally caught Faith’s eye, as she stood to guide everyone back off the bus, he didn’t see the expected awe or appreciation in her gaze. Instead, she was frowning at the Hall as if it personally offended her.

His most likely reason for her reluctance to come with them that day rose up in the back of his mind again. Perhaps she just resented the aristocracy, and perceived privilege. Hadn’t she been happy enough to use his name to get what she wanted from their suppliers that week, though? If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was a hypocrite.

Dominic clenched a fist against the back of the seat beside him as he stood. He’d make sure Faith Fowler got a full tour of Beresford Hall. He wanted her to understand exactly what he’d achieved here, although he couldn’t have said why it mattered to him so much.

* * *

Beresford Hall was beautiful, magnificent, a shining example of some sort of architecture or another, and everything else the guidebook said it would be. But all Faith could see was the shadow of Fowlmere Manor hanging over it, reminding her how hard she’d worked to get away from places like this. People like this.

Sure, Fowlmere was maybe half the size of Beresford Hall, and there were far fewer people hanging around it these days, but the similarities caught her everywhere she turned, and she couldn’t shake the shiver that crept over her shoulders when she thought how close she’d come to being trapped somewhere like this her whole life.

Dominic led them up the stone steps to the imposing front doors, hauling them open and holding one to let them pass into the main hall. It was early on a weekday, but there had been several coaches parked in the car park when they arrived and the hall already boasted three lines for tickets. This, Faith supposed, was where Fowlmere really differed. Even if her father had let them, what tourists would want to pay to visit a crumbling manor that had sold most of its heirlooms to pay gambling debts?

Beresford Hall was often held up as an example of heritage done right. Open most days to the public, save one wing that was kept as family quarters, Dominic had put history on display for all to share and he’d done it in style.

‘Come on through, guys,’ he said, lifting a red tasselled rope to let them skip the queue. ‘I’ll give you the house tour myself, before we get a better look at the newer additions to the property.’

Faith followed, remembering the horrible attempts to open Fowlmere to the public when she was a child. Only two days a year, her father had decreed, and he’d give the tours himself. Except, when it came down to it, it turned out he didn’t know much about the history of the house, or the family. And when her mother had stepped in to take over, Faith had realised she was already slurring her words at ten in the morning.

Faith had learned everything she could about the Manor and her ancestry, to be ready for the next open day. But, in the end, her father had declared it a waste of time and shut the gates again.

Not so at Beresford Hall.

‘This is the chamber prepared for Queen Victoria, when she visited the Hall.’ Dominic waited as they all took in the room, with its rich red walls and imposing four-poster bed. Gold accents glittered on everything, adding a shine to the faded history. ‘Beresford Hall has been host to five British monarchs, and we have memorabilia from each of their visits.’

He was obviously proud of his family and his history, Faith thought. She wondered what that would be like. Whether she’d have stayed if her own family hadn’t been such a shambles. Who would she be if she’d grown up somewhere like Beresford, where her future was neatly mapped out for success, rather than finding buckets to catch drips from leaking roofs, or hiding bottles from her mother and lying to debt-collectors when they came looking for her father?

But she wasn’t that girl. She was Faith Fowler now, and that was all she ever intended to be.

With a sigh for things lost, Faith followed Dominic through the next doorway to a magnificent dining room, staring out of the window instead of listening to him talk. She was his employee, not his girlfriend. She didn’t have to hang on his every word. She didn’t have to care about this house, or its history. She didn’t have to learn which king stayed when.

Because this wasn’t her world any more. And it never would be again.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘W
HAT
ARE
YOU
frowning at?’ Sylvia asked.

Dominic looked down at his sister, taking in her wrinkled up nose and exasperated eyes, and tried very hard to shake his bad mood. ‘Nothing. It’s all perfect. Thanks for setting this up for me.’

Sylvia shrugged. ‘Just an ordinary day’s work. You do realise I do this for paying customers every day.’

It showed, Dominic thought. When they’d first opened the tea rooms in the old stables, he’d been doubtful. They already had the restaurant, over in the Orangery, offering fine dining to the visitors, and the café over on the other side of the yard, serving sandwiches and drinks. A third eating area seemed like overkill.

But Sylvia had wanted it. Sylvia, who never really asked for anything, only went along with his plans and said, ‘If that’s what we need to do.’ So when she’d said, ‘No, Dominic. You’re wrong. This will be a really good thing,’ he’d listened.

He was glad he had, now. Sylvia had taken on all the planning and running of the tea rooms, picking out the perfect curtains and matching tablecloths, light and airy without being too chintzy. She’d tasted every baker’s cakes from Beresford to London, and finally hired a young man called Russell to bake the scones, cakes and biscuits for the afternoon teas. People flocked to them—not just the senior citizens on their day trips, which he’d sort of expected, but everyone. Hard-nosed businessmen on a break from their conference schedule over at the events suite. Lovers checking out the Hall as a possible wedding venue. Hungover stag parties. Everyone.

For once, Dominic was actually pleased to be proved wrong.

The Americans certainly seemed to be enjoying it, too. He’d originally asked Sylvia to find them a private room somewhere, but she’d refused, saying half the charm of the tea rooms was the atmosphere. And she’d been right again. They were chatting away with the tourists on the next table, exclaiming over the scones and clotted cream and the cucumber sandwiches.

Even Faith looked as if she might be enjoying herself for the first time that day.

‘You’re staring at her again,’ Sylvia commented, and he could hear the smirk in her voice.

Diverting his gaze towards the tower of cakes on the counter, Dominic said, ‘Staring at whom?’

‘Your event planner. Tour guide. Kat’s replacement. Whoever she is.’

‘Merely a last-minute employee for the week,’ Dominic said, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that screamed at him that she should be more. ‘Kat cancelled on us.’

‘Understandably.’ She gave him a sideways look. ‘After that video.’

Just hearing the words made the shame rise up again, stinging in his throat. The memory of the moment he’d first seen it sharp and constant in his brain. And the swift realisation that what hurt most wasn’t the personal betrayal, wasn’t the fact that Kat had slept with another man. It was the humiliation. The way it sent him right back to his childhood, and those unbearable days after his mother left, when all anybody seemed able to talk or write or think about was his family’s shame.

He’d promised himself he’d never be in that position again, and Kat had made him break that promise. Maybe he couldn’t have changed what happened with his mother, but he should have been able to control Kat. And he could sure as hell make sure it never happened again. Which meant finding out what Faith was hiding.

Sylvia was still watching him carefully, as if waiting to see if he might explode at the very mention of the video. Dominic closed his eyes and wished very hard he’d never heard of YouTube. ‘Just tell me you haven’t watched it.’

‘I don’t think there’s a person we know that hasn’t seen at least a glimpse of it.’ Sylvia shook her head. ‘You think you know a person.’

‘It’s wildly unsuitable and inappropriate for you to even mention it.’

‘I don’t know why you’re so bothered. It’s not like you’re in it.’ Dominic looked at her, and she winced. ‘Of course, I suppose that might not actually make things any better.’

‘I’d like to stop talking about this now, please.’

Sylvia gave a quick nod. ‘Absolutely. Good idea. You can tell me about your latest employee instead.’

As if that was any safer a topic. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Her name would be a good start. Where you met. What she’s like. That kind of thing.’

‘You realise you’ll probably never see her again after today, right?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Sylvia said airily. ‘At the very least, there’s the theatre trip you promised faithfully to let me come along on...’

Damn it. He’d forgotten that. He’d have to ask Faith to try and score an extra ticket.

‘You forgot. Didn’t you?’

‘Of course not,’ Dominic lied. ‘I just need to ask Faith something...’

‘Aha! So her name is Faith. We’re getting somewhere.’

Dominic rolled his eyes. Apparently she wasn’t giving up on this one any time soon. ‘Her name is Faith Fowler, she’s a tour guide I met in Italy and hired to come over and run this tour, and she doesn’t like stately homes. That’s about all I know.’

Sylvia’s brow furrowed. ‘Except this one. She likes this stately home. Don’t you, Faith?’

Glancing up, Dominic saw Faith approaching, too late to steer her away from his sister’s insatiable curiosity.

‘I love these tea rooms,’ Faith said, not really answering the question. ‘And the scones are to die for.’

‘I’ll introduce you to Russell before you go,’ Sylvia replied, suitably distracted. ‘He’s a marvel in the kitchen.’

‘Faith, we’re going to need an extra ticket for the theatre tomorrow,’ Dominic said. For some reason, the idea of Faith and Sylvia getting chummy made him nervous.

‘Not a problem.’ Faith whipped out her tablet and made a note. ‘We’re in the box anyway, and I think there are a couple of extra seats at the very back. Or I can always just skip it.’

‘No. I need you there.’ The words came out too firm, even to Dominic’s ears, and both women looked at him in surprise.

‘I’ll still be around to get you all there and home again,’ Faith said.

‘Still, you don’t want to miss the play,’ Sylvia said, but she was looking at Dominic. He tried to keep his face blank. The last thing he needed was his little sister questioning his motives for hiring Faith. And he didn’t want to explain that he needed to keep Faith close until he discovered what secrets she was keeping.

‘I’m not much of a theatre person,’ Faith said with a tight smile.

She was lying again, Dominic thought, wondering when he’d got so adept at spotting even her little fibs. But why? Why wouldn’t she want to go to the opening night of the play she’d been so excited to score them tickets for?

‘Is this another wardrobe issue?’ he guessed, and Sylvia started staring at him again.

Faith flushed, the pink colour clashing with her scarlet cardigan. ‘Not entirely. I could always wear my black dress again.’

‘You’ve worn that dress every evening this week,’ he pointed out. ‘It’s going to fall apart if you dry clean it once more.’

Faith blinked at him. ‘I didn’t think you’d notice.’

‘I didn’t think he could tell one dress from another,’ Sylvia added, glancing between them. ‘It must be a very special dress.’

‘It’s really not,’ Faith told her.

‘So go buy a new one,’ Dominic said. ‘You can go shopping while we’re in meetings tomorrow. Just put it on the card.’

‘I really don’t need—’

‘I’ll come with you!’ Sylvia clapped her hands together with excitement. ‘It’ll be great! I’m in town anyway for that evening, and I love a good shopping trip...’

Faith glanced between them, and suddenly Dominic felt just a little sorry for her. Not enough to get her out of a shopping trip with his sister, though.

‘Well, that would be...’ Faith started.

‘Expensive,’ Dominic finished for her. ‘That’s the word you’re looking for. Expensive and exhausting.’

‘Oh, shush,’ Sylvia said. ‘You want her to look her best, don’t you?’

He didn’t care, Dominic realised. He didn’t care what she wore, what she looked like. He just wanted her there with him. And not just so he could uncover her lies.

He was in trouble.

* * *

Faith spent the coach ride back to the hotel sulking. Not that anyone could tell; she was cheery and chatty enough to the clients. Maybe Dominic might have noticed but, since it was his fault anyway, she didn’t care.

How had this happened? She’d known all along the theatre trip was a risk, but not much more than anything else she’d agreed to that week. The theatre was one of her mother’s passions; her circle of friends liked to patronise up-and-coming directors, playwrights, actors. Tomorrow, the opening night of a well-hyped show, directed by London’s next big thing...no way they’d miss it. Maybe her mum wouldn’t be there, but someone who would know Faith on sight would be, she had no doubt.

She’d planned on hiding out in the coach. She could get them all in and settled easy enough, then slip out and hide. Mum’s gang were bound to be the last in so, as long as she got the rest of them there early, she’d be fine. When Dominic had said about needing a seat for Sylvia, things got even easier. They’d never even notice she’d gone.

But now, suddenly, not only was she attending the bloody thing, she was buying a new frock, just for the occasion.

And the absolute worst thing was, she didn’t even mind. Because it meant an evening with Dominic, dressed up and looking her best, and as close to off-duty as she could get this week.

Faith sighed, and slouched down in her seat. Falling for her employer. How cliché. And just the sort of man her mother would love her to marry, too. Perfect.

After the long day trip, Faith had planned a quiet dinner at a restaurant not far from the hotel. With only an hour to answer emails, catch up on work and get changed for dinner, she didn’t have much choice but to pull on the hated black dress again. She’d thought it was versatile enough to see her through the week, but then she hadn’t fully anticipated having to accompany the group on every single one of their evenings out. And she hadn’t counted on Dominic being there, watching her, either.

Taking in her reflection in the hotel room mirror, she pulled a face. And then she grabbed her red shoes, red cardigan and brightest red lipstick. Worn right, he might not even notice the dress underneath.

* * *

‘Nice dress,’ Dominic said ten minutes later when they met in the lobby. Faith pulled a face at him, and he laughed.

* * *

Dinner, Faith thought, would have been more or less perfect if it wasn’t for two things. One, the heel of her shoe breaking as she returned from the bathrooms after dessert. And two, Jerry insisting on accompanying her back to the hotel when she decided to leave while the others had coffee. After four days of fending off his advances, she was running out of excuses.

Even then, it might have been salvaged if Jerry hadn’t followed her up to her room, staring intently down her cleavage as she rooted through her bag for her keycard.

‘Thanks for helping me home,’ she said, smiling falsely up at him. ‘I think I can manage from here.’ She waved her keycard, just to prove the point.

‘What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t see you safely into your room?’ He gave her a smile that made her want to shudder. ‘I can check for monsters under your bed, if you like.’

I’m much more concerned about what you want to do
in
my bed.
‘I’m a big girl now, Jerry. I think I can manage.’

His gaze dropped down to her breasts again. ‘You certainly are.’

Okay, that was enough. ‘Jerry, I’m tired. I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.’ How much wine had he drunk with dinner? His eyes weren’t entirely focused when he finally managed to look up at her face.

‘Aw, come on. Just a quick nightcap. After all, we missed out on after-dinner drinks.’

‘I really don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Faith said, slipping her keycard into the door. ‘Early start and all tomorrow. Goodnight, Jerry.’

A hand appeared above hers on the door, pushing it open, and the first pangs of panic stabbed in Faith’s chest. Focusing on her breathing, she grabbed the handle and yanked it closed again, almost catching Jerry’s fingers in the door as she did so.

‘I said goodnight, Jerry.’ The words came out much calmer than she felt. Her heart pounded against her ribcage and she wanted to kick out, stamp on his feet in her one remaining red heel, the way the self-defence classes had taught her.

But he was Dominic’s client. And he hadn’t actually done anything yet, except make her feel desperately uncomfortable.

Of course, if his hands moved from the door to her body, she was taking him down.

Fingers, hot and sweaty, landed on her hip and Faith didn’t waste time thinking any more. Stamping down with her right foot, she tried not to smile in satisfaction as Jerry let go and howled.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Was that your foot?’ she asked, her voice syrupy sweet.

‘You bitch! You wait until I tell your boss about this.’ Jerry was practically curled up over his foot, his face shining red, his eyes furious.

Faith managed one moment of relief before a figure appeared at the edge of her vision, coming around the corridor from the lift. And, before she could even look, she heard Dominic say, ‘Tell her boss about what?’ and her heart plummeted.