Page 53 of Never a Proper Lady

“I don’t have my references with me, but I could send them to you,” Faith said, trying to modulate the hope and enthusiasm in her voice.

You’re running away, her conscience accused.

Yes. Yes, I am.

Far better to toddle off to parts unknown as a companion than return to London unemployed. And what explanation could she give a future employer as to why she’d left her position?

I lied about being betrothed to my employer and then quit when he told another how much he reviled me. Nothing there to smudge my character.

Waving her hand in a dismissive gesture, Mrs. Peagilly shook her head. “No need. I’m an excellent judge of character. I think we shall march along well together, Miss Roth. I’m off to the Mediterranean in October. I haven’t set a departure date quite yet. I should very much like you to accompany me.”

“I…”

To the Mediterranean?

Yes, by heavens. Faith would do it. Put this debacle behind her and Lord Constantine Kellinggrave out of her mind. And her heart.

A silver lining in the gunmetal-gray cloud that had descended upon her life. With a firm nod and grateful smile, she said, “I would be honored to accept your offer, Mrs. Peagilly.”

“Excellent.” Mrs. Peagilly collected her teacup once more and took a drink. “You shall need to apply for a passport.”

“Of course.” How did one who had no idea where they were born or who their parents were apply for a passport? Trinity Ablethorne would know. Another foundling, Trinity had traveled extensively.

Faith would write her at once.

“One more thing, Miss Roth….”

Faith put her musings aside and concentrated on Mrs. Peagilly once more. “Yes?”

“I would ask that you remain here until after the wedding,” Mrs. Peagilly said gently. “Until the house party officially ends next week, in point of fact.”

Oh, dear.

How could Faith face Constantine or the Marquess of Kenworthy again after the humiliation in the study? Mortification left invisible wounds that might scar over in time but would always be a reminder.

Mrs. Peagilly must’ve seen Faith’s hesitation and reluctance.

“It shall give us time to become acquainted.” Mrs. Peagilly waved her hand again, and her teacup rattled in the saucer. “As you can see, I’ve been given a suite. There’s a small chamber through that doorway. You can sleep there if you don’t wish to remain where you are. I expect the duchess thought I’d bring a lady’s maid with me.”

She chuckled and poured herself more tea but didn’t pick up the cup. “I’ve been dressing and undressing for decades, as well as styling my own hair. Both are under-appreciated skills.”

Faith well knew that. She’d never had a lady’s maid.

What orphan had?

She’d have to grit her teeth, bite her tongue, and, whenever possible, avoid Constantine and the rest of the Kellinggraves for three more days. The ball was tomorrow night, the wedding the next day, and she and Mrs. Peagilly could be on their way at dawn’s first light the following morn.

Faith would need time to settle her affairs, give up her room at the lodging house, and would still be able to attend Joy Morrissette’s soirée and say farewell to her friends.

A gnawing ache behind her ribs took her breath for a moment. She should be happy that she’d never have to lay eyes on Lord Constantine Kellinggrave again. Instead, bone-penetrating sorrow sluiced through her.

Nevertheless, she was encouraged at her new prospects, though not thrilled to have to concede her plan to leave Dovetonwick Court tonight.

Faith impulsively bent and hugged Mrs. Peagilly.

“Thank you. I am most grateful.”

Mrs. Peagilly patted her back, then clasped a hand.