Lady Faith Takes a Leap (2 page)

But here Vaughn was, standing legs slightly apart, shotgun over his shoulder, chatting to Charity across the water, and Faith, normally never lost for a word, mute as a Royal swan.

“You must remember my sister Faith?” Charity was asking him.

“My lord.” Faith stepped forward and dropped into a mindless curtsey.

A rich chuckle came across the water. “Don’t drop your parasol into the water, Lady Faith.”

Vaughn looked different somehow, broader in the shoulders. He had been absent from all of the social events spent in the Brandreths’ company since Honor and Edward had married. Thoughts flew through her mind. Was he engaged? She hadn’t heard of it, and anyway, what did it matter?

Charity stepped closer and gave her a nudge with her arm. “Say something,” she hissed.

Faith cleared her throat. “Has your shoot been a successful one, my lord?”

“Feeble,” Charity whispered.

Vaughn put a hand to his ear. “Your soft voice carries away on the wind, Lady Faith.”

She raised her voice. “Do you intend to stay long in Tunbridge Wells?”

He frowned. “I’m not sure of my plans.” He shook his head. “Difficult to carry on a conversation while shouting.” He turned away.

Faith firmed her lips, annoyed with herself; she’d lost an opportunity to make a good impression. But Vaughn wasn’t done with them; he’d put down his gun and walked farther down the bank. Then he backed up and took a flying leap over a narrow part of the river, alighting on a rock mid-stream. He regained his balance and jumped again, landing a few yards downstream from them. Vaughn dusted his leather breeches and strolled over to them. He swept off his hat and bowed.

“Ladies.”

Up close, he was even more devastating. There was a new maturity in his face, Faith decided with a swallow. He wasn’t like his older brothers, Chaloner, Bartholomew, or, indeed, Edward. Edward had a sense of calm and order about him, perhaps because he was in the law, but Vaughn, who was now giving due attention to Charity’s painting and commenting on her excellent capture of the light through the leaves, had a restlessness in the way he moved, his face narrower, his high cheekbones more prominent.

His smile widened in approval when he turned to her, and she warmed all over. His green eyes were not like Edward’s either. They hinted at a wicked humor. “The last time I saw you, Lady Faith, you were perched on the bough of a tree.”

Faith’s cheeks grew hot. Did he find her much changed? “I was but a child and curious to see what men did on a shoot.”

“Honor was afraid Faith would end up bagged like the guinea fowl,” Charity offered.

Vaughn threw back his head and laughed. It was a rich, full-bodied laugh. Faith smoothed her gown and glared at her sister. Impossible to offend, Charity merely shrugged and returned to her painting.

Vaughn’s gaze swept over her, taking in her lilac gown down to her yellow kid half boots. “You are not a child now.” He somehow made it sound like an invitation. Faith sucked in a breath.

“Indeed not. I have had my first Season.”

His gaze was a soft caress. “With men crowding around you in droves, I’ll wager.”

“Our house in London looked like a florist shop,” Charity said unhelpfully. “And one beau wrote Faith a poem. He recited it from the pavement outside our house. The rhyming couplets were tedious, but Mercy thought it was good.” Charity giggled. “She’s been reciting it to our dog, Wolf, ever since!”

Vaughn’s smile deepened into laughter, and Faith thought his shoulders eased. He’d been like a coiled spring. “Breaking hearts, Lady Faith. Who is the lucky fellow?”

“I am not yet engaged, my lord.”

“Really?” His green eyes roamed over her again, making her fidget with the fringe on her parasol. “What is wrong with the current group of beaus? Don’t they measure up?”

“Faith wants to marry for love,” Charity said.

Faith glared at her. Really, would Charity ever learn social graces?

“Love, eh?” He prodded a rock with his booted foot. “What would you be prepared to do for love, I wonder. Would you go against your father’s wishes?”

Faith opened her mouth and closed it again, finding she had no answer.

“I thought not.” Vaughn’s dark eyebrows slanted in a frown.  

“I expect to marry a man who pleases both me and my father,” she said stiffly.

“A fine sentiment,” he said dryly.

How cynical he seemed!

A sudden gust of wind whipped the parasol out of Faith’s hands. It tumbled along the bank near the water’s edge with him in pursuit.

Vaughn was extremely athletic. He caught the parasol as the breeze propelled it in the direction of the river and turned with a laugh while Charity cheered him.

He handed the parasol to Faith. “Thank you, my lord.”

“My pleasure, it would have been a shame to lose it. Such a pretty thing.”

Faith’s cheeks heated. She wasn’t sure why, but the way he looked at her when he said it made it seem he was complimenting her rather than her sunshade.

He turned away and strolled back to inspect Charity’s painting. They were soon in discussion about the shadows on the oak’s trunk.

Faith nibbled her bottom lip. Some years ago, Lord Vaughn had been sent down from Oxford. It must have been something serious. Many young men responded to dares, got up to pranks and were rusticated for a term. But Vaughn had been suspended. She would love to know the reason. Tunbridge Wells had been rife with gossip about him for years, how he had become a gambler and got into debt. How he refused a commission in the army and lived an aimless life in London. There had been little fodder for the gossips since he’d gone to York, however. But something had happened since, she was certain, for his eyes were shadowed despite his smile. His rebellious ways had been a source of fascination, when she’d always been one to obey a command and never dared upset the family. It was a woman’s lot, she supposed with a sigh.

To be honest, her Season hadn’t proved to be as thrilling as she’d hoped, and until this point, she hadn’t understood why. Her childhood had been so uneventful. Safe. Although warned of how dangerous they were, the so-called rakes she’d encountered held no appeal, though she did yearn for excitement and not to have her life mapped out so carefully. If she married Lord Fitzgibbon, she feared excitement was unlikely to come her way.

“I look forward to seeing you all at the hunt ball,” Vaughn said, sounding polite, as if his good humor had deserted him.

“Honor and Edward are coming,” Charity said.

“It will be good to see them. Will you promise me a dance, Lady Charity?”

Charity chortled and flicked back another errant lock, which now had a dab of green paint on it. “I am not yet out, my lord.”

“Then I shall join the line of keen dance partners next year.” He turned to Faith. “And you, Lady Faith?” He cocked a dark eyebrow. “Will you save a dance for me? We might dance a waltz on the terrace, under the moon.”

“And we might not.”

Vaughn might have asked her to dance naked, such a look he gave her. Her body responded in an alarming fashion. She had a strong urge to laugh and agree. How outrageous he was and how easily he stirred her child-like adventurous spirit, which she had wrestled into submission, with just one look.

“In the ballroom then, amongst other sober souls,” Vaughn said.

“Then I shall be delighted, my lord.”

Vaughn’s dog had taken to running along the bank, barking furiously. “I must go,” he said with a bow. “Enjoy your pastoral pleasures, ladies.”

He jammed on his hat and returned the way he came, reaching the other side of the river with graceful ease. His dog jumped up at him with joyful barks, and with a careless wave, he disappeared into the trees.

Paintbrush poised, Charity watched her. “You always had a thing for him,” she said. “It seems you still do. I’ve never seen you so discombobulated.”

Faith fought to guard her heart. Maddening, that the years hadn’t altered how she felt about him. Vaughn was still exciting. His strong, manly grace and unpredictability thrilled her all over again. Such an attraction would be perilous. Her father would never agree to a match with a rake, reformed or otherwise. “I hardly know him. Perhaps it’s more what he represents.”

“Ha!” Charity became absorbed in her painting once more and didn’t require any further explanation, thankfully, for Faith doubted she could have offered one.

****

Vaughn strode back through the woods in the direction of the shooters. They had only a few hours of daylight left. He liked the Baxendale girls. He remembered them from past social events, but he’d thought them young and silly then. Faith had grown pretty he had to admit. An appealing, delicate flower of a girl, with her big blue eyes and fair curls. Doubtless, she’d be married before the year was out. She wasn’t like her stepsister, Honor, not in looks, for Honor had dark hair, nor in nature. Edward’s wife had a way of looking at a man that made him feel he had to come up to the mark, or get a tongue-lashing. A good thing that she so obviously adored Edward.

He remembered Faith as being a feisty young girl. It appeared she was now intent on marrying to please her father. Vaughn supposed he couldn’t expect Faith to stand up to her parent, the way Honor had. Baxendale would have allowed Honor more leeway, as Honor was not his child. Baxendale had married Honor’s mother after her first husband killed himself, having gambled away his estates. He would not be so tolerant with Faith.

There was little point in wondering why Faith Baxendale had changed. He needed to focus on opportunities offered him. Vaughn’s friendship with Miss Crispin had ended months ago, and strangely, he now struggled to get a clear picture of her. It was as though she’d mirrored back his emotions without ever revealing much of herself. Had her decision to marry another man merely been a blow to his pride? He was learning more about himself as he grew older, and some of it was painful. None of his brothers suffered from the same growing pains. The rockiest road seemed destined to lie with the youngest Brandreth. And much of it his own making. He sighed. Older and wiser now, he wanted get on with his life, which was difficult without the necessary blunt to bring about his dreams. What could he offer a young woman such as Faith, for example, until he was better settled? That he should even ask himself this question was surprising, for a union between them at this time was impossible. One day he would have his inheritance and breed thoroughbred horses. Until then he’d endeavor to keep his nose clean and convince Chaloner he had changed. But he couldn’t tamp down his impatience to take life by the scruff of the neck and shake it.

When the footman announced Faith’s stepsister and brother-in-law had arrived, Faith rushed into the parlor where Honor was pulling off her hat. “Honor!”

“Dearest.” Laughing, Honor welcomed Faith’s exuberant embrace. “Is it so very long since we last saw each other?”

“Hullo, Edward.” Faith rose up on her toes to give her brother-in-law’s cheek a kiss.

Edward’s intelligent green eyes studied her. “Is there something amiss, young Faith? You seem out of sorts.”

Edward’s sympathetic inquiry made her realize how on tenterhooks she’d been. “Father urges me to marry Lord Fitzgibbon,” she said. “I feel I’m being rushed into a decision.”

“La, Faith. Father will give you time.” Honor smiled. “He is so fond of you. He wishes you to be happy.”

“I want him to approve of my choice. I couldn’t bear to be cut adrift from the family.”

“Now how could that happen?” Honor said with a laugh and a shake of her head.

“What’s wrong with Fitzgibbon?” Edward asked. “Have I missed something?”

“You approved of Lord Gillingham also, Edward,” Faith said, narrowing her eyes.

“That’s true.” Edward ran his hands over his hair. “Nice fellow, too, Gillingham. I believe I’ll leave you two ladies to discuss it. I can offer little by way of advice. A man is somewhat de trop.”

Honor smiled fondly at him. “You are quite right, my love. Both are good men. But Faith doesn’t love them.”

“Love, eh?” Edward hurried to the door. “Well, that is another matter entirely.” The look he gave his wife was nothing short of smoldering as he exited the room.

“See?” Faith grinned. “Is it unreasonable for me to want what you have?”

“Oh no, dearest. You must insist on it,” Honor said, her cheeks pink.

“Vaughn has come home for the ball,” Faith said casually.

Her sister’s brown eyes widened. “Has he? You have seen him?”

“Yes, Charity and I were sitting by the river when he came out of the woods with his dog.”

Honor studied Faith carefully. “Still handsome?”

“Yes.” Faith sighed. “Even more so.”

Honor leaned forward and took Faith’s hand. “Dearest, I am your champion in anything you choose to do, but I would hate to see you hurt. Father would never approve of Lord Vaughn.”

“I doubt it matters. Vaughn showed little interest in me.”

“Edward did mention Vaughn had been seeing a lady in York. But if nothing has come of it, he will likely fall under your spell, for most men do. Do not, I pray, encourage him.”

“I didn’t…I wasn’t.”

“Of course you didn’t, not deliberately. It’s not in your nature to toy with a man’s affections, dearest. But sometimes just the thought fits the deed. And your loyalty and affections, once engaged, are unshakeable.”

Faith shrugged. “I believe I would be out of my depth with Lord Vaughn.”

“Mm. I look forward to seeing him again. But even if he has changed his ways, Father would not want you to marry a younger son with no real prospects.”

“But, Honor, you did.”

“I know, dearest.” Honor smiled. “But I am his step-daughter. Father will want something better for you.”

“What man could be better than Edward?”

Honor laughed. “Indeed! Perhaps, in this case, we are wiser than Father.” She sobered. “But you have been infatuated with Vaughn for years and must ask yourself what it is about him that attracts you. Rakes have great success with women because they offer excitement. Often to a lady’s dismay and, in some cases, ruin, when they discover rakes have nothing of real value to offer, certainly not love.”