Lady Faith Takes a Leap (10 page)

“I don’t want your gratitude, Rosamond,” Vaughn said. “I consider it unfair that you cannot choose who you marry, that is all.”

The dance ended, and Vaughn returned Rosamond to her mother.

He came away wondering if what she had told him was the truth. He suspected Rosamond could lie, if it suited her purpose. What if there was no Fellowes? He shrugged. It wasn’t as though he was a wealthy duke who came in for all sorts of deceptions from unscrupulous women. He intended to make inquiries, however, into the character and prospects of Dr. Fellowes.

While averting her gaze from Vaughn and Rosamond, Faith danced with several gentlemen and laughed gaily at their wit, although she often found them sadly lacking. Vaughn had danced with Rosamond again, and he was now engaged in conversation with his mother, Rosamond, Lady Montrose, and her brother, Lord Whitworth. 

Mr. Sefton had not reappeared. Her mother was on tenterhooks. “What could have happened, Faith?” she asked for the umpteenth time. Faith had no answer. It hadn’t been her fault; she was sure of it. But her guilty sense of relief included the knowledge that she’d been frantically thinking of ways to refuse him. Might Sefton have sensed her reluctance?

Finally, as the last dance was called, Vaughn bowed before her. “Where is Sefton?” he asked as he guided her around the floor in a waltz.

Attempting to ignore the pull of attraction she always felt when close to him, Faith dropped her gaze. “I cannot say.”

“You don’t know, or you won’t say?”

“I don’t know, Vaughn,” she said, the sharp edge to her voice intended to end the conversation.

“An odd business to be sure,” he replied, ignoring her tone. She looked up and found concern in his eyes. “A gentleman does not come to a ball and squire a lady then disappear again. It seems out of character.”

“I thought so.” Her voice turned hoarse with frustration. “But Father will think I’ve done something to upset him.”

“Do you think you might have?”

“No I do not!”

“Don’t snap my head off. I merely inquired.”

She bit her lip. “He asked Father for my hand this morning.”

“Sefton? And now he’s gone off without a word?”

“Yes.” Faith wondered why she’d told Vaughn. She didn’t seem able to keep anything from him these days.

“Can’t fathom it. He’s not a bad fellow, Sefton.”

“You sound disappointed that I’m not to marry him.”

His expression became guarded. “I have no opinion on the matter.”

“I suppose your thoughts dwell on Lady Rosamond. You seem to enjoy her company.”

“I do. Thank you for your assistance earlier, but I would certainly have asked her to dance tonight.”

Faith frowned at him. “Perhaps you and she will beat me to the altar.”

Vaughn’s eyes went dark and hot, and his hand tightened at her waist, making her heart thump. “Don’t believe all you hear.”

Her breath caught in her chest. “Why should I not?”

“Just don’t, that’s all.”

“I thought earlier that I’d like to be like young Freddie and tell everyone to go to the devil. Is that bad of me?”

“I’d love to witness that!” Vaughn’s peal of laughter caused other dancers to turn their heads. Mr. Wakefield stumbled, and Mrs. Wakefield winced as her husband came down heavily on her toe.

“You are causing a scene,” Faith said, “and Mama is frowning.”

“I shouldn’t worry.” He grinned. “Your mother always frowns at me.”

Faith laughed.

“Ah. That’s better. I do enjoy hearing you laugh.”

She enjoyed hearing his deep, throaty laugh too, but she’d never tell him so.

The dance ended. “Would you like me to find out about Sefton?” Vaughn asked as they left the floor.

“Oh please don’t bother,” Faith said. “I daresay we shall hear soon enough.”

“You don’t seem terribly brokenhearted.”

“That’s none of your business, my lord.”

He arched a dark brow. “You’re not then.”

“You have no manners at all,” she said furiously.

“Perhaps not,” he said, his voice low. “But I do care what happens to you.”

Faith stared at him as her ribcage tightened. “You do?”

“Yes, I….”

“We are leaving, Faith.”

They looked away from each other to find Faith’s mother standing before them, her arms loaded with wraps, evening cloaks, fans, and reticules.

“Good evening, Lady Baxendale, Faith.” Vaughn turned and disappeared into the welling crowd gathered around the front door.

“I am so angry with Mr. Sefton, Faith,” her mother said as they made their way to their carriage. “I don’t know what your father will make of it.”

****

As the Brandreths left the ballroom, Lavinia, swishing her yellow silk skirts in a clenched, gloved hand, her pretty mouth twisted in anger, was muttering something forcefully to Chaloner. Their mother, who usually took great interest in family squabbles, was surprisingly absorbed in her own thoughts.

An uncomfortable ride home followed, the carriage filled with suppressed emotion as Chaloner and Lavinia glared at each other.

Lavinia usually chose to be more subtle. Displaying her anger so openly surprised Vaughn. He folded his arms and ignored them, thinking of Faith’s worried face and the promise he’d made Rosamond. He wished he hadn’t agreed to the ruse, but there was no backing out. A gentleman never reneged on a promise.

Faith’s confession that Sefton had asked for her hand before he disappeared was so honest and trusting. Was she in love with the fellow? Vaughn didn’t want to see her hurt, but perhaps she wasn’t so much brokenhearted as distressed at being the subject of her father’s displeasure. And what the devil had happened to Sefton? A man didn’t ask Baxendale if he could marry his daughter and conjure up a disappearing trick. It was dashed rude to say the least. Vaughn clamped down on his back teeth. If he pursued Sefton and brought him back by the scruff of the neck, would Faith thank him? He somehow doubted it. He admitted to relief that they weren’t to marry and found it galling that it mattered.

The carriage pulled up at the dower house. Vaughn and Chaloner escorted their mother inside. “It was a lovely evening, wasn’t it?” she said to no one in particular, giving them each a kiss.

“What is up with Mother?” Vaughn asked as they walked back to the carriage. “The ball wasn’t that good, boring crowd, too many people, and dashed hot.”

“Lord Whitworth was doing his best to charm Mother. I’m going to look him up.” Chaloner frowned. “The fellow might have an ulterior motive.”

“He might find our mother attractive and good company. She still is you know.”

Chaloner looked at him, incredulous. “Yes, I daresay she is,”

“Can you two please get back inside the carriage?” Lavinia called in a sharp tone. “I want to visit the nursery. Elizabeth was coughing before we left home.”

Chaloner gave an audible sigh. “One cough does not constitute an illness.”

“And how do you know? Are you a doctor?” Lavinia pulled her cloak over her shoulders with jerky fingers.

“Very well, my dear. We shall visit the nursery together,” Chaloner said with another long-drawn-out sigh.

Vaughn’s disturbing thoughts kept him from his bed. He wandered into the billiard room to hit a few balls.

A few moments later, Chaloner came in. He went to the drinks tray and held up a crystal decanter of brandy.

“No thank you.” Vaughn had never seen his brother drink this late after a ball. “Is something wrong?”

Chaloner splashed a large quantity of amber liquid into a crystal tumbler. “A dashed annoying busybody at the ball whispered in Lavinia’s ear about a lady I was seen with in London.”

Vaughn dropped his cue on the table and turned to gaze at his brother in amazement. “You have a mistress?”

“I do not. It was a momentary lapse. Unfortunately, I was spotted by that inveterate gossip, Lady Stewart.” He shook his head. “It’s going to take a long time for Lavinia to forgive me. If ever,” he added gloomily.

“Not worth it then,” Vaughn said, hiding his astonishment at his brother’s behavior.

“It most certainly wasn’t. A dreadful mistake,” Chaloner said heavily. “I feared I was missing out on life, living my somewhat dull and safe existence. Lavinia and I were young when we married, and I never sowed my wild oats. Not like you, Vaughn.” He flashed a condemning look Vaughn’s way, which faded as he shook his head. “I now know why such a life never appealed to me. It just isn’t what I want. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re human, Chaloner,” Vaughn said, feeling they were now on a more even footing. “We all make mistakes.”

“It seems we do.”

“If I were you, I’d go up to Lavinia and confess all you’ve just told me. I think she’ll forgive you,” Vaughn said. “Making up will be far better than getting drunk. You never enjoyed drinking to excess either.”

Chaloner brightened. “Perhaps you’re right.” He put down his glass and headed for the door.

“Good night,” Vaughn called, turning to hide his grin.

Chaloner paused, his hand on the doorknob. “By the way, Vaughn, I had a letter from John today. They are coming to stay. He also mentioned what an asset you were to him. If he can place his trust in you, then so can I. I’ve been remiss. Your inheritance is yours anytime you want it.”

He closed the door after him, missing Vaughn’s leap of joy.

Vaughn wanted to tell someone. Dash it; he especially wanted to tell Faith.

Vaughn’s sister, Sibella, and her husband, John, Marquess of Strathairn, arrived for a short stay.

“I demand to catch up on all the news!” Sibella said, fastening an inquiring green gaze on Vaughn before she’d even removed her hat.

“It’s been dull, actually. Would you like coffee? I’m on my way to breakfast.” Vaughn would not betray Chaloner’s trust, but Sibella had a way of wheedling information out of him, which made him nervous. He was more confident conversing with her husband about his ideas for a horse stud.

Sibella followed him into the breakfast room. “Dull? What about Mama? She’s acting extremely odd. She smiled at me in a very vague fashion and admired my new pelisse then wandered off to the nursery to see the baby.”

“She has a beau.” Vaughn felt on solid ground discussing Lord Whitworth, who had visited them often in the last two weeks since the ball. Just last evening, Whitworth had dined and played whist with the family, and he was taking their mother for a carriage ride after luncheon. After making inquiries about him, Chaloner stated he was now satisfied Whitworth was all he appeared to be. It amused Vaughn that his brother felt he had to protect the dowager, who was a wise soul and hardly needed her son’s protection. But that was Chaloner.

Sibella’s eyes flew open, and a smile lifted her lips. “Mama has a beau? What is he like?”

Vaughn grinned. “Nice chap, plays a decent hand of whist.”

Sibella snorted. “Oh you. I shall have to ask a woman. Men are always dull-witted in matters of the heart.” At that point, Chaloner entered the breakfast room with Lavinia, laughing. “Here’s Lavinia,” Sibella said. “I shall gain far more information from her.”

“Sibella! How lovely!” Lavinia embraced her sister-in-law. “I can’t wait to see the baby.” Lavinia took the chair a footman held out for her. “Good morning, Vaughn. Isn’t it a beautiful day? I declare I’m starving.”

“The kippers look good.” Vaughn had heard their noisy lovemaking during the night, and although he was pleased that Chaloner had repaired the rift in his marriage, he felt a tad envious. Chaloner filled a plate with eggs and ham at the sideboard and set it before Lavinia. She patted his cheek.

Sibella stared at the lovebirds in surprise, causing Vaughn to smother a laugh.

As the butler poured coffee, Lavinia’s affectionate gaze remained on her husband as she discussed recovering the drawing room sofas. Since marrying into the family, she’d been a little aloof. She usually took her breakfast in her bedchamber. Vaughn was pleased to see her come out of her shell.

After breakfast, Sibella grabbed Vaughn by the sleeve as he left the house to go the stables. “You said there was
no
news, and I find everyone acting peculiar. There’s mother and Lavinia, who is also like a different person. Have you
all
started drinking the spring waters? Does it have miracle properties?”

Vaughn laughed. “Only Mother took the waters, but her change of demeanor can be laid at Lord Whitworth’s feet. You’ll meet him tonight. If you’ll kindly unhand me, I intend to find your husband.”

“Just a moment,” Sibella said, grabbing him again. “I’ve been told you’ve been seeing a lot of Lady Rosamond Montrose.”

“Who told you?”

“A friend wrote me.”

So the gossips had taken notice. The duplicity didn’t sit well with him, he’d discovered. Perhaps he wasn’t as unconventional as he thought. “I find Rosamond good company,” Vaughn said evasively, wishing Sibella hadn’t come to Brandreth Park just now. At least his mother was too distracted to notice the attention he was paying Rosamond.

“Merely good company?” Sibella raised her dark brows. “I don’t believe you.”

Vaughn peeled her fingers from his cuff. “There’s not a lot I can do about that. May I go now?”

“Humbug. You are being deliberately annoying.” Sibella swiveled and stalked back to the house.

Vaughn shook off his worry about the impulsive Lady Rosamond. He felt filled with human kindness of late, as if God had smiled on him and finally granted his wish. The only nagging worry he had was for Faith.
Gossip was rife about Sefton’s sudden desertion of Tunbridge Wells, and Faith hadn’t appeared in society since the ball. He’d considered visiting her, but a morning call alone would be awkward. Fortunately, he’d heard nothing about Sefton’s proposal, so perhaps that wasn’t widely known.

“Sibella?” he called as she was about to enter the house. “I wonder if you’d be interested in riding somewhere with me.”

“Oh? Where?” Her frown vanished as her curiosity took over.

“Were you to visit the Baxendales?”

“I had planned to.”