Page 59 of Never a Proper Lady

Charlotte and Mother exchanged puzzled glances.

“Never fear, Miss Roth,” the duchess said. “Naturally, we are acquainted with the Brockmans, but ’tis Constantine who boasts a close friendship with Brockman. They are not amongst those invited to the house party and wedding.”

Faith tilted her head. “Very well. I do insist on minimal contact with Lord Constantine.”

Constantine hid a wince.

She might as well have landed him a facer.

One of Constantine’s brothers choked back a laugh, but he didn’t spare them a glance to see which. Let them have their fun at his expense. Their day would come, and he’d be the one chortling at their discomfit.

Faith continued as if she hadn’t heard the rude noise and spoke directly to the duke and duchess. “That should pave the way for you to announce that the betrothal’s been broken when I leave with Mrs. Peagilly in three days.”

The whole while she spoke in that sultry contralto, she avoided meeting Constantine’s eyes.

How, by thunder, had she and Mrs. Peagilly put their heads together and devised this scheme in the space of two hours?

Faith couldn’t go off exploring God only knew where with the elderly woman.

“Are you certain that’s a good idea?” Constantine advanced a couple of feet, willing Faith to meet his eyes. “Two women cavorting around the world? All manner of appalling things might happen to you.”

Faith raised her head, her gaze clashing with his, and that stubborn chin took on the angle he’d come to recognize as defiance. Gone were her soft brown doe eyes. In their place were flinty, obsidian orbs.

“Appalling things can happen anywhere, Lord Constantine.”

“Touché, Miss Roth.” Leopold accompanied his glib reply with two fingers to his forehead in a respectful salute.

Her bowed mouth curved slightly, and Leopold’s face split into a broad grin.

Fiend seize it. Leo was truly taken with her.

She returned her attention to Constantine. “As I am not your wife, betrothed, employee, servant, or slave, what I do is none of your concern.”

She enunciated the last four words in a clipped staccato.

Cedric exchanged a hilarity-filled glance with Leopold, and they smothered another round of chuckles with pathetically false coughs.

Brothers.

It took all of Constantine’s restraint not to gnash his teeth. Instead, he sent a glance heavenward.

A little help here, please?

“If I may…” Mrs. Peagilly lifted her hand, and after offering everyone a benevolent closed-mouth smile said, “I’ve been traveling the world for longer than you’ve been alive, Lord Constantine. I assure you, I am well acquainted with possible mishaps, and I take every measure to prevent them.”

A positively precocious glint entered her eyes. “I’ll admit to a moment of disconcertment when I found a python curled upon my cot, but I had left the tent unfastened, so I could not blame the poor creature.”

Mother gasped and clasped her throat as Edyth grasped Charlotte’s hands, and they both turned pale as chalk.

Cedric’s and Leopold’s jaws sagged to their chests, but Father laughed.

No. Absolutely not.

Faith was not going anywhere where snakes capable of consuming humans slithered into tents and took a comfy lie down on a cot.

No, by God above, not as long as the sun rose and set. As long as robins sang and butterflies pollinated.

“On your cot, you say?” Rubbing his chin, Father gave a bemused shake of his head. “Asleep?”