by Gayle Callen
“Why, ma’am?”
“Today’s young man is too interested in himself, flitting about from his horse racing to his gambling to his pugilism. They don’t wish to find a nice wife—they want to enjoy themselves until they’re too old to make a girl a good husband.”
Faith chuckled.
“Ah, but I am hurting your feelings, Miss Cooper. You are unmarried, and perhaps you wish it were not so.”
“I am a realist, my lady. My features did not attract a young man in my youth, and without a dowry, I had to work for my living. No young man here would be interested in a lady’s companion.”
“Your youth? Are you an ancient, then?”
Faith looked around at all the delicate young women. “Sometimes I feel it.”
“Do tell me your age.”
“Twenty and five, my lady.”
“Pshaw, I did not marry Lord Duncan until near thirty. I turned down seven proposals before him, and a few after.”
“Seven proposals?” Faith exclaimed, delighted.
“A woman must be careful to find the man who will be indulgent to all of her activities. And my activities have always gone far beyond morning calls and the opera.”
“And what activities do you pursue, my lady?” Faith asked.
“Women’s rights!” Lady Duncan clapped her hands together, drawing several startled looks. “Did you read Mary Wollstonecraft’s book, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman?”
“Yes, ma’am, I did. A fascinating study about women’s education and upbringing limiting our expectations, not our gender.”
Lady Duncan patted her knee. “I knew I was going to like you!”
They conversed for the next half hour, their topics ranging from women’s rights to industrialization’s effect on landowners to the latest novel. Faith forgot about the party, her duties, and just enjoyed the eccentric old lady’s forward-thinking views and clever responses.
“Oh, it is difficult to have such conversations at home,” Lady Duncan said, sighing heavily.
“I feel the same way, ma’am.”
“There are too many silly women in your house, too?”
They shared grins.
“My dear, I think you should come accept a position with me.”
Faith’s smile died and she stared into the old woman’s bright eyes. “Oh, ma’am, you are kind, but—”
“Do not think I’m being impulsive. Although I will not tell my family this,” and she leaned closer, “but it is getting more difficult to write all the letters and speeches required of me. My hand tires far too swiftly these days, as do my eyes. Cursed old age, yet I am glad to still be suffering through it, instead of in the ground. I am not so anxious to join my late husband yet.”
“You’ve made a generous offer, Lady Duncan, and I am flattered, but I certainly cannot leave my charge in the middle of the Season.”
“And why not? Are you a poor relation?”
Faith grinned. “No, ma’am, I have no attachment except that I’ve given my word.”
“Are you happy there?”
She hesitated, and then said nothing.
“So you are not happy, and from the looks of the Warburton girl, I imagine she’s not good company for a mind like yours.”
Faith blushed. “That is a generous compliment, ma’am, but I am in training—of sorts.”
“In training? Do explain.”
“I wish to become a trusted chaperone, not simply a companion. Surely it will be best if I remain with a young lady to learn more of what I need to know.”
“I like a girl with plans. A chaperone first and foremost needs to understand Society, and I can teach you everything you need to know. Leave it to me, young Miss Cooper. I will see to our mutual happiness.”
She started to rise with the aid of her cane, and when Faith jumped up to take her elbow, Lady Duncan peered up at her.
“One thing you can learn—unless I ask for help, I do not need you to offer it.”
Faith quickly pulled her hand away. “Forgive me, ma’am.”
“Of course I do. You act with sweet kindness. Until we meet again.”
She limped away, crossing the middle of the dance floor, not even looking both ways. People cleared a path, even if they had to bump into each other in the middle of the waltz.
Faith covered her mouth to hide her laughter. She slowly sank back into her chair, dazed and hopeful, but she was used to not expecting much. And then she had a thought—she hadn’t mentioned her employer’s name. How had Lady Duncan known it?
Oh, whoever had pointed out Faith must have told her.
“Miss Cooper, please come with me to the ladies’ retiring room,” Adelia called, moving past Faith’s chair without even stopping.
Faith rose up, trying not to sigh.
And trying to remind herself that for all she knew, Lady Duncan would entirely forget their conversation by the next morning.
But instead of forgetting the conversation, Lady Duncan arrived midmorning, before the Warburton ladies had even gone shopping, let alone were expecting visitors. Faith heard about her arrival while she was working on Adelia’s hair.
Lady Warburton came into the room, wearing a pinched frown. “We have a visitor, Adelia, the Countess of Duncan. Do hurry preparing her hair, Miss Cooper.”
Faith’s hands had slowed to a stop on hearing the name of their visitor, but she quickly pinned up the last curls, leaving a few to dangle artfully near Adelia’s ears. Her pulse was fluttering with excitement, even as she told herself to calm down.
The young woman frowned, but her mother snapped, “It will have to do. Ladies? The countess is waiting.”
But to their surprise, Lady Duncan was not in the drawing room, where the butler had left her. Faith let out her breath, not believing that she’d come all this way just to change her mind.
And then they heard voices, and followed the sound downstairs to Lord Warburton’s study.
Lady Duncan was seated before his desk, hands clasped on her cane. She turned her head and smiled. “Ah, your lovely family. Do introduce me, Warburton.”
Standing up, he cleared his throat, giving his wife a frown as he said, “Lady Duncan, may I introduce my wife, Lady Warburton, and our daughter, Miss Adelia Warburton. And of course, you tell me you’ve already met Miss Cooper,” he added coolly.
Faith bit her lip and curtsied with the other ladies.
“I did not realize you had met my daughter’s companion, Lady Duncan,” Lady Warburton said.
“Oh, yes, just last night at the ball. We had a lovely conversation. I was just telling your husband that I wish to hire her away to work for me.”
The stark silence was only broken by Lord Warburton’s harrumph. Lady Warburton’s eyes were narrowed as she focused on Faith.
“Miss Cooper, you wish to leave us?”
“Oh, no,” Lady Duncan interrupted. “She was quite loyal. But I insisted. I have quite the connections at the registry office. I have already alerted them to expect you, and to recommend their best companion and even a lady’s maid, if you’d like.”
Faith tried not to flinch. She did not want her employers to believe she had complained about the amount of work she’d been given.
“They’ll even grant you the same wage price they guarantee to me, since I have hired so many servants.”
The Warburtons exchanged a meaningful glance.
“But I’ve grown quite attached to Miss Cooper,” Adelia said stubbornly.
“And I can understand why, my dear,” answered the old lady. “But Miss Cooper is an ardent believer in women’s rights, and I have use for such a mind.”
“Women’s rights?” Lord Warburton said, his nostrils flaring.
Oh, Lady Duncan was playing this
perfectly, Faith thought with admiration.
“Have you expressed such sentiments to my daughter?” Lady Warburton demanded.
“I have not, my lady,” Faith quietly said. “I did not think you wished me to converse about my beliefs.”
“And you thought correctly,” the woman retorted. She turned to her husband. “I believe Miss Cooper might serve Lady Duncan well.”
“But—” Adelia began, only to be shushed by her mother.
Faith gave her a regretful look. Perhaps the girl really did value her opinion and assistance. But Faith’s hands were chapped and painful, and she fell into bed exhausted each night.
“Will you mind if I take Miss Cooper with me right now?” Lady Duncan asked.
“Oh, no, my lady, I couldn’t,” Faith insisted. “Miss Warburton has an outing with friends at Vauxhall Gardens tonight, and I must help her prepare.”
“You, a lady’s companion, help her to dress?” Lady Duncan said doubtfully, eyeing Lady Warburton.
“No, no, of course not,” Lady Warburton hurriedly said. “Lady Duncan, if you’d like Miss Cooper’s companionship this evening, I’m certain it can be arranged.”
“Very good,” Lady Duncan said, rising to her feet. “I’ll send my carriage around for Miss Cooper and her things this afternoon.”
She limped from the room without waiting for an escort, leaving Faith standing alone with the Warburtons looking at her. The baron’s expression was disgruntled, as if only the extra work of hiring a new servant bothered him. But Adelia and her mother looked both betrayed and suspicious.
With a huff, Adelia turned her back and flounced out of the room.
Lady Warburton said stiffly, “Have you been so unhappy with your employment, Miss Cooper?”
Without having to lie, Faith said, “Ma’am, I have not been looking for another position. Lady Duncan’s offer was just as surprising to me as to you. I did not wish to offend you in any way.”
“I would have said you could have refused the offer, but Lord Warburton does not care for servants with ideas of equality, so this is for the best. Do go pack your things.”
Faith didn’t bother to bristle at the label “servant.” She was simply happy for so little drama with her departure. She curtsied again. “Thank you for your kindness, my lady.”
Not six hours later—and after being ignored by Adelia all day—Faith was in an expensive carriage alone, being driven to her new home.
She was having second thoughts, only in that she hadn’t even done any research, had simply accepted Lady Duncan for what she seemed to be. But the Warburtons had obviously known of her, and she’d attended an exclusive ball. So if things turned out badly, Faith had only herself to blame.
But the carriage was soon driving through Belgravia, then stopped on the square itself. Faith eagerly opened the door before the coachman could—and saw Rothford Court looming up before her. Her mouth sagged open, and she prayed the traffic was so bad that the coachman couldn’t pull up before the house next door.
And then she realized that the coachman was waiting for the gate to be opened, and she had to close the door as she was driven within the grounds of the duke’s home.
She felt sick inside at the manipulation. Obviously, Lady Duncan was acting on the duke’s behalf. Were they related? Faith should have studied her Debrett’s Peerage better, but she was always so busy. If he had coerced an old woman to do his bidding, why, that was simply terrible.
And this was what Faith’s carelessness had wrought: she was out of a perfectly acceptable—if overworked—position. She felt trapped by the duke, ready for pride’s sake to simply quit. But of course she had her mother to support, and although she had her initial letter of reference, she was certain the Warburtons would not give her one for abandoning them. If she begged for her position back, things would be even worse for her.
Faith reluctantly decided to play the hand she’d been dealt, to see what Lady Duncan had to say for herself.
Though she did not enter through the servants’ door, the coachman did drive up to the side entrance rather than the main portico of the mansion—no town house, this, though it be in the middle of London. Once she was inside, a smiling middle-aged woman greeted her, wearing a plain black gown with a lace collar, a large ring of keys dangling from her belt.
“Miss Cooper, I am Mrs. Morton, the housekeeper. Lady Duncan told us to expect you. Welcome to Rothford Court.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Morton. Would Lady Duncan be available?”
“No, she is out paying calls, but she assures me you will be having dinner together. I’ll give you a brief tour of the house while the footmen see to your trunk, and then you can relax in your room until dinner is announced.”
“Would you mind if I ask you one awkward question?”
“Of course. I will do my best to answer.”
“How is Lady Duncan related to the duke? She never quite said. She might simply be a distant relation, for all I know.”
Mrs. Morton nodded. “A wise question. Lady Duncan is the older sister of the late duke, and therefore the aunt to the current duke.”
“I see. I never thought to inquire myself,” she added, trying not to blush.
Faith did her best not to gape as she followed the housekeeper through the public rooms, the drawing rooms, gallery, public and private dining rooms and breakfast room, and so many others that her head spun from trying to keep the layout straight in her mind. Everywhere were marble columns and frescos, gilt trim, fan-vaulted ceilings, and medieval tapestries.
And the library—it rose two stories high, with little secluded window seats and cozy, deep chairs. The smell of leather was intoxicating, and she inhaled deeply. Mrs. Morton smiled.
Faith was looking forward to the solitude of her own room until the housekeeper led her into a room nowhere near the servants’ quarters, with a massive four-poster bed hung with curtains, gilt furniture, and embroidered curtains on the windows, all styled in soothing blues and creams.
She didn’t want to appear provincial by asking if this bedroom was really for her, for obviously Mrs. Morton knew where she wished to put Faith. But she must have looked a little dazed, for the housekeeper smiled at her.
“You must be a special young woman, because Lady Duncan has never tolerated even the suggestion of needing a companion.”
Or the duke was a persuasive man, Faith thought with frustration.
“You will find yourself well treated, Miss Cooper, although there is always a . . . personality or two among the family. As for dinner, I will have someone bring you down in time to meet the family. You’ll be dining with them.”
Of course she would, Faith thought, trying not to wince.
“Shall I send up a maid to help you unpack?”
“No, thank you for the kindness, Mrs. Morton.”
“Then have a good rest.”
And Faith was soon alone. She walked slowly to the window and stared out at the beautiful garden within the walls that encircled the mansion. She sat in the window seat and surveyed everything that was being offered to her.
To appease a guilty man’s conscience.
She tried to tell herself that this was no different from being under Lord Warburton’s control—it was probably better, for the duke wished to help her.
But she hadn’t heard promising things about his past. What if he hadn’t changed? Could she count on Lady Duncan to protect her? Everyone in the household was a stranger, none of whom cared about her.
And none of them knew what scandalous deeds she’d committed in her past. She’d be unceremoniously banished from the house if they knew.
She closed her eyes. The weight of the secret was sometimes so heavy.
Chapter 6
Faith had always been careful not to own any flattering gowns—
she’d always wanted to project the air of an aging spinster, so she wore gowns a few years out of date, extra petticoats to give herself a fuller waist, and all of them could easily be removed alone. She changed into a fresh gown, and was waiting when a maid came for her.
The maid introduced herself as Ellen, but didn’t meet her eyes. She was a short, pale girl with limp hair, so blond as to be almost white, pulled back beneath her cap. Her lashes were pale, her eyes water green—she could have been a ghost, especially with the white maid’s uniform and apron. She silently led Faith down through the house, while Faith congratulated herself on remembering the way. She led her toward one of the smaller drawing rooms, obviously for the family, and Faith found herself tensely awaiting an introduction—and bracing herself for her first proper meeting with the duke.
Ellen gestured through the open doors, but did not precede Faith inside. Taking a deep breath, Faith stepped into the doorway and paused. She had only the briefest moment to take in the scene, several women standing and sitting as they awaited their meal, the seated ones chatting, one lounging on a chaise, another standing near the window. The Duke of Rothford was nowhere in sight, thank God. Faith was worried she’d be unable to hide her anger.
“Miss Cooper!” cried Lady Duncan, using her cane to rise slowly to her feet. “I am so glad you arrived without any problems. Come, do come in and allow me to introduce you to the family.”
Faith thought her anger might arise toward Lady Duncan, but she found it dissipating in the face of the woman’s cheerful, pleased expression. She was only doing the duke’s bidding, and he ruled the household.
Lady Duncan turned to the woman leaning back on the chaise longue, who idly lowered her book to her lap. Faith recognized her as the duke’s mother.
“Damaris,” Lady Duncan said, “please welcome my new companion, Miss Faith Cooper. Faith, Her Grace, the Duchess of Rothford.”
Faith sank into her best curtsy. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”
“Likewise,” the duchess answered, then flicked a lazily interested glance at Lady Duncan. “Your new companion?”
