Page 83 of Never a Proper Lady

Once again, I must beg your forgiveness, my friend. Aurelie said yes. We are honeymooning in France. Her grandparents and an older sister and her family still live there. I shall return the first week in October. Of course, I’ll understand if you have dismissed me.

Nonetheless, I cannot regret taking a chance at love. Other things come and go, but true love lasts forever. May you someday find the same happiness as I have.

~Harvey Camberg-Trainer, in a letter to Lord Constantine Kellinggrave

Mayfair, London

Morrisettes’ drawing room

27 September 1818

Yes, married life suited Faith. Suited her very much indeed, though it had only been ten glorious days since she and Constantine had exchanged vows in Dovetonwick Court’s drawing room surrounded by his immediate family. Now they were her family, and they had taken her into their fold with such kindness and warmth that it still made her eyes misty.

Neither she nor Constantine had wanted to wait for the banns to be read, so the Duke of Landrith had used his influence to procure a special license.

Faith sent a surreptitious glance around the hospitable drawing room. A successful physician from a noble family, Dr. Morrisette and his wife, Joy, preferred simplicity and functionality.

The other branch of the Kellinggraves had departed in a huff before the ball ended. Hayward Kellinggrave blamed the duke for Martin eloping with sixteen-year-old Adelle Breadalbane.

Good Lord, there had been a colossal dust-up when the elopement news became known. Any residual gossip still whispered into eager ears about Faith and Constantine instantly ceased. There was a much bigger scandal to bandy about.

Constantine explained that Martin was in debt up to his bloodshot eyeballs, and the Duke of Landrith had refused to pay his debts again. So desperate and facing debtors’ prison, Martin had turned his licentious designs on the inexperienced and empty-headed Miss Breadalbane, seduced the chit, and then hied her off to Gretna Green.

“I’d wager the greedy, unscrupulous bounder abandons the silly girl the moment he gets his hands on her fortune,” Constantine said.

Faith felt sorry for Adelle, even if the girl had started rumors that Faith was Constantine’s mistress. Adelle had made an abominable choice that would plague her for the rest of her life.

Turning to Trinity Ablethorne, Faith said, “If you are interested, I know a delightful woman seeking a traveling companion. I had agreed to take the position before Constantine proposed to me. We are joining her on a trip to the Mediterranean next month.”

Trinity’s countenance lit up, and she gave an excited nod.

“I would be very interested. My current employer is a dear lady, but she spends the majority of her time in the chapel or sleeping. I am quite bored. I thought I’d enjoy staying in England, but it seems I’ve developed a bit of a wanderer’s heart.”

“Excellent.” Faith lifted her blue rose teacup. “I took the liberty of telling Mrs. Peagilly I knew someone with extensive experience as a traveling companion. She said she’d be delighted to meet you. I believe you shall get on famously.” After taking a sip of excellent oolong tea, she said, “I shall give you her direction, and you can write her.”

Trinity smiled, her pale, hydrangea-blue eyes sparkling. “I shall do so as soon as I return home.”

Feeling Constantine’s heated gaze upon her, Faith lifted her head.

No one had ever told her that soul mates could speak with their eyes or reach across a room and caress each other with a sweep of their gaze.

Love was a glorious, mysterious, all-consuming paradox.

She met his eyes from where he stood, talking with Dr. Morrisette, Ronan Brockman, and Theran Rutland. The smoldering glint in his hooded gaze caused dual paths of heat to skate up her cheeks. No doubt he, too, remembered this morning.

It had been a most invigorating start to the day.

From beside her on the settee, Mrs. Shepherd, attired in her signature dove gray and black striped ensemble, touched Faith’s arm. “Might I have a word with Faith in private?”

The other ladies graciously murmured their consent and left Mrs. Shepherd and Faith alone.

Her expression serious enough to cause Faith’s nape hair to rise, Mrs. Shepherd patted her hand reassuringly.

“Is something wrong, Mrs. Shepherd?”

“No need to fret. I presume you read the letter I sent cautioning you to have nothing to do with Aloysius Petheringham?”

“I did.” Faith nodded and set her teacup down. The china rattled in the saucer, the only indication the conversation disturbed her. She puzzled her forehead as she recalled reading the troubling letter. “He never contacted me, however.”