Page 2 of Once a Scoundrel

Under that stress, could anyone blame him for rebelling? So he’d secretly joined the army when he no longer found escape in cards, drink, and whatever other mischief he could find—including bedding the bored wives of half the queen’s council, if rumors could be believed, and knowing what Stephen had been like during his university days,thatrumor Faith was willing to accept at face value. In the ranks, he’d been just another captain, and he’d enjoyed his new-found anonymity, until his commanding officers discovered that he was the adopted son of General Nathaniel Grey, one of the most respected men in the War Office.

“You and the marquess spent a great deal of time together, didn’t you?” another friend pressed. “Before he went off to India?”

“I suppose so,” Faith dodged, turning her attention back to the crush around them before they could see any unbidden emotions for Stephen flitting on her face.

Because they had spent time together. As much as allowed, that is, because she had been just nineteen and in her second season, and Stephen had already earned himself a notorious reputation. But her older twin sisters had been in their fourth—and what would prove to be their last—season as eligible ladies before they married, with her younger sister Margaret in her first. The twins had taken London by storm, much to their mother’s joy and their father’s chagrin, and Margaret had been all caught up in the excitement of her debut. With those three stealing attention everywhere they went and James finishing his last year at Eton, no one had paid Faith any mind...except for Stephen.

He and Daniel Llewellyn, his best friend from university, had come to London that May when they were graduated. Even then, rumors about Stephen’s scandalous activities were swirling through Mayfair, and Daniel’s penchant for engaging in the same sort of behaviors, surely egged on by Stephen, hadn’t helped quell the gossip. He was a rogue, a friend...

And then somehow, he became more.

At first, she’d ignored his attentions. This wasStephen, after all. Someone she’d known all her life, a young man who oozed charm and flattery with every breath. Flirtation was his second nature.

Then he’d kissed her.

Oh, she was certain it had been a mistake. That Stephen Crenshaw would find her attractive...ridiculous! Then he’d done it again the next time they were alone, and again and again...Faith’s head had spun to know that he wanted to spend time with her, and her heart— Oh, that silly thing simply somersaulted! He made her feel special and beautiful, as if she were an alluring woman instead of just another eligible miss in pastel satins. As if she were the catch of the season instead of the young lady he’d previously spent his existence ignoring.

Yet for all his kisses, he never asked Papa for permission to court her, and he never made her any promises of love. He also did nothing to curtail the rumors of scandalous trysts with society wives and widows.

At the time, she’d been too enamored of him to doubt his motivations. Now, though, she knew he’d only enjoyed the convenience of her kisses and the flattery to his pride of having her starry-eyed attentions on him. Nothing more. He’d been his scoundrel self, while she’d been too inexperienced with men to understand that.

Then in July, he and Daniel joined the army and left for India. Without warning or explanation to his family—without even a note to her. Whatever feelings she thought he had for her sailed away with him.

She’d been devastated and cried inconsolably, and all of it had been made worse in that she couldn’t tell anyone. Not even her own sisters. They would have said it was her own fault for falling for a rake, and forthatrake in particular.

And truly, wasn’t it? She’d been a fool for ever dreaming of his love.

“He was with Daniel Llewellyn when he was killed, wasn’t he?”

Faith stiffened at the unexpected comment. “Yes,” she answered quietly.

“India must have been ghastly for him!”

She was certain it was. Especially since Stephen had given the order which led to Daniel’s death.

Their regiment had been attacked, the order for a counterattack given...Daniel had been killed in the fray. There had been nothing Stephen could do to save him. Letters from Stephen had been few and far between before that; afterward, no more letters came at all.

The next she’d heard of him, Stephen had returned to London three months ago as unexpectedly as when he’d left. Three months during which he hadn’t bothered to call on her while the rumors of his new rakish pursuits flourished. If she needed any more proof that she’d meant nothing to him, that was it.

“He’ll need to find a wife soon,” another friend interjected. “After all, he needs an heir.”

Faith rolled her eyes. Oh for heaven’s sake! Were her friends incapable of talking about anything except Stephen Crenshaw?

A commotion went up from the front entrance, and Faith caught her breath.

Speak of the devil...

Stephen appeared in the wide doorway. He paused to sweep his gaze around the ballroom and to unwittingly give English society their first good look at him in four years. Every inch of his regal demeanor declared him the marquess he was born being, and the devil-may-care grin, which even now crooked up his lips in an audacious half-smile, acknowledged the rakehell he’d become. Tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes, he commanded the room’s attention with his quiet presence. Even though he’d arrived unannounced, everyone knew who he was, and a new round of whispers went up.

The Master of Ceremonies called out the next dance, and the orchestra struck up the first notes. But no one noticed. Their attentions were rapt on the marquess.

“Lady Faith, our dance.”

Except for one, apparently.

She tore her gaze away from Stephen as Arthur Billingsby appeared at her side. Heavens, she’d completely forgotten that she’d agreed to dance with the man. He was a friend of her brother-in-law, which had made it impossible for her to turn him down.

Although dancing was the last thing she wanted to do at that moment, she knew her place at tonight’s party and forced a smile. “Of course.”