Page 76 of Never a Proper Lady

Forgive me, old chap, but I’ll be on my way to London by the time you receive this. I tried to find you to tell you in person. I couldn’t stay another day. I must declare myself to Aurelie.

I love her, and at least then I’ll know where I stand. Never thought I’d find myself in this position, but love does strange things to a fellow. Perhaps someday you’ll fall in love, and then you’ll understand.

I borrowed a horse and shall stable it in your mews until I can arrange to return it to Dovetonwick Court. By the by, as I was leaving, I saw Martin speaking to a stable hand. I didn’t hear the conversation except for Kellinggrave saying to make sure the coach was ready.

I’ll see you in London. Wish me luck!

~Mr. Harvey Camberg-Trainer, in a short note to Lord Constantine Kellinggrave

Lady Edyth’s bedchamber

That evening—the much anticipated and touted ball

Faith stared at the elegant, composed woman gazing back at her in the cheval mirror. She touched the emerald and diamond earrings dangling from her earlobes, then the pendant nestled at the apex of her collarbone with her fingertip. It was amazing what a costly gown, lavish jewels, a touch of cosmetics, and a gifted hair stylist could do.

One could almost believe Faith had been born an aristocrat.

Formerly Lady Charlotte’s, the emerald green gown trimmed in gold braid and lace Faith wore was, in a word, exquisite. She fingered the fine fabric, unable to believe the transformation that had taken place in her appearance over the past two hours.

“Oh, Faith,” Edyth breathed, clasping her hands together. Eyes shining with approval, she circled Faith. “You are breathtaking. You’re going to make those snitty gossips sooo jealous.”

Glee filtered into her voice.

Wearing a white silk gown featuring a silver lace overskirt, Edyth appeared angelic with her blonde hair artfully arranged atop her head. Faith liked Constantine’s youngest sister very much indeed. They might’ve become good friends had circumstances been different.

Nita adjusted the gown’s hem before standing back, satisfied.

“Better than I had anticipated, Miss Roth.”

“Nita, you are a miracle worker.”

Faith turned and embraced the startled servant.

Blushing, Nita shook her head.

“No, Miss. I knew you’d be dazzling in the gown with your coloring.” With a final pleased glance, she made for the door. “Excuse me. I still need to check on Lady Charlotte and the duchess one final time.”

Never had Faith anticipated attending such a touted affair, dressed like a haut ton denizen. Some might say she was mutton dressed as lamb, and perhaps she was. Nevertheless, tonight, she was an honored guest of the Duke and Duchess of Landrith and, to all and sundry until the day after tomorrow, their youngest son’s betrothed.

Yes, it was the stuff of which fairytales were made, but even pragmatic spectacle-wearing wallflower scriveners were entitled to a night of frivolous fantasies. The real world would return tomorrow with its harsh, uncompromising realities. But reality couldn’t snatch her memories. Memories she’d cherish into her old age as a spinster with a dog and a cat and maybe a bird.

She’d recall the Landriths’ house party, the extravagant ball, and Constantine when she was morose or having a fit of the blue devils. The man who’d somehow taken her heart captive without her being aware.

Once Nita had gone, Lady Edyth grabbed Faith’s hands and, laughing, spun her in a wide circle. “I vow Constantine will regret the day he let you get away.”

He might regret a marriage of convenience with her hadn’t come to fruition but naught else.

“As we were never really betrothed, I sincerely doubt that.” Faith softened her response with a warm smile.

Constantine had to be the most unromantic dolt she’d ever known.

Would any woman be thrilled at being the solution to a man’s problems?

In truth, yes. Yes, they would.

The very nature of arranged marriages and marriages of convenience were mutually beneficial business arrangements that often solved a problem for one or both parties.

Faith had overreacted to Constantine’s ill-thought-out, detached proposal. Once she’d calmed down and had time to ponder her emotional response, that had become crystal clear. That admission brought no small amount of self-castigation and heaped more chagrin on her already humiliated soul.