by Lynda Hurst
Devlin could almost envision the gears and cogs turning about in her mind as she intently considered his idea. In no time at all, she replied primly, “I believe you’ve produced a rare gem of a brilliant notion, brother.” Watching her closely as he was, it looked to Devlin as though his sister’s whole being was vibrating with her barely-contained excitement. His suspicion was shortly confirmed when she suddenly jumped up from her seat, made her excuses to Hamish, and proclaimed, “Excuse me, I’ve some letters to write that need to be sent to London straightaway.” And she shot off in the direction of her room to write her ‘supposed’ letters. Devlin suspected his sister did have letters to write but guessed that she would be perusing the latest fashion plates first before writing to her favorite modiste in London.
He shared a look with Hamish after Margaret’s hasty leave-taking and settled himself into Margaret’s former seat across from Hamish. Hamish dropped his cards onto the table before him, and asked, “I’m curious, Dev, my boy, as to how you convinced the Revelstoke girl to accept you as her guardian. Would you mind regaling me with that particular tale?”
Devlin haphazardly picked up Hamish’s abandoned cards and flipped them over lazily, one by one. “It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. Faith has a strong, stubborn will unmatched by most of the ladies in my acquaintance. Having said that, she was very resistant to my being her caregiver in the beginning.”
Hamish chuckled and teased, “Not as irresistible as you thought you were, eh?”
Devlin rolled his eyes at his uncle in exasperation then sighed. “Believe me, Uncle, if I knew my charm and wit would work like magic on her I wouldn’t have had to work so hard to bargain with her as I did.” Recalling the memory of Faith’s surprised look at the deal he offered her, he could only admit to himself how much of his teasing charm he had used on her to get her to submit. As a notorious rake among London’s elite set, he couldn’t very well make that information known without diminishing his reputation amongst the ladies.
With Faith under his protection, he supposed he would have more to worry about than his standing with the ladies of the ton. Their deal warranted his involvement in finding her a proper husband while in London in exchange for the freedom to search his townhouse for clues about this alleged Revelstoke legacy. And of course, he had to have final say in who she be allowed to marry.
“Bargain?” Hamish asked, frowning. “That’s how you secured her agreement to your custody? I’m afraid I need more details, Dev.”
Adopting a laidback position in his seat, Devlin began, “This is where things get a little muddy. You know from Whitaker that my father intended to turn Countess Revelstoke into his duchess instead. You also know that the earl would not have allowed a divorce without making the countess a pauper, but that wouldn’t have mattered if Father was to marry her.”
Leaning closer with his hands folded in front of him on the table, Hamish was all ears. “Go on,” he pressed.
“Faith’s mother had a plan in place to keep her children in the event she was granted a divorce. Apparently, the earl had held the children, the younger ones, at any rate, above her head if she even hinted at divorcing him. For all intents and purposes, the countess’ plan looked like she meant to buy her children from their father, no matter how one looks at it.”
“With your father’s money, I presume?” Hamish scorned. “No surprise there, what with the money-grubbing lot those Revelstokes were purported to be.”
Devlin frowned. “Quite the opposite, in fact. The countess did not take advantage of my father in that regard, and instead found a way to come up with the funds on her own.”
Hamish started in surprise. “Where would she have gotten the money? I can’t fathom where she would have gotten the funds for an endeavor like that.”
“Faith’s letter stated that there was a family legacy, close to what sounded like a veritable treasure hidden on the family estate. An estate which I now own, as a matter of fact. Anyway, the Countess was going to secure her children by paying off the earl’s debts once she found this legacy. As it was, the earl was dependent upon the countess’ money from her inheritance which was still tightly controlled by her father’s stipulations in his will, and obviously could not give the children up or he would have been destitute.”
“Ah, I now begin to see,” Hamish commented. “And this legacy - this treasure - she had found most of it, I presume?”
“According to the letter, she had found only one piece. The treasure was divided into portions, each one accompanied with a clue to find the next buried piece. She was on the verge of finding the second before she and my father disappeared.”
Hamish bowed his head, silent, at the mention of his missing father. While Devlin observed Hamish’s movements, thinking it was a rather nice gesture in remembrance of his father, Hamish’s closest cousin.
Neither of the two men spoke further: Hamish with his head still bent, and Devlin now spent and weary from the journey’s hard ride home.
Looking drained, Hamish rose to his feet, and Devlin stood to do the same. “If you’ll excuse me, Dev, the hour is late and I believe I’ll be retiring to my bedchamber. Good night.”
“Good night, Uncle, and get your sleep. We will soon be enduring the long nights of the London season in a few days.”
Hamish nodded and proceeded to make his way towards the family quarters. Devlin watched him go and relished what time he had left of the day to sit there alone and think.
The forthcoming trip to London still needed a few details ironed out, and he needed to think how he should precisely approach such important, significant matters. As Faith’s guardian and as part of the deal he struck with her, he was ultimately responsible for helping her actively seek out a husband. And he didn’t know how he properly felt about that.
No one could tell him what to say, or do, or feel; he was a duke, the closest thing to royalty without actually being a royal. But in quiet moments like this, when he was forced to be alone with his thoughts, he found he wasn’t very fond of the idea of Faith marrying. Yet it was his duty to see to her well-being, and for a young woman of her age, she should be looked after by a husband. Being her guardian was just a temporary solution until some other man could step in and claim her.
The more he thought on it, the fewer the number of eligible would-be husbands stayed on his mental list of suitable candidates. Devlin mentally shrugged and thought it best that the list not be too long as there would no doubt be packs of slavering males after Faith once she stepped foot in the ballrooms of the ton.
Then there was Faith herself. Stubborn to the core, yet sensitive as a freshly plucked rose, she intrigued him to an almost unseemly degree. The memory of their bantering and teasing over a week ago warmed him, as he couldn’t recall the last time he had such fun battling wits with a female. His sister never took to his teasing well because she never reacted the way he expected her to; Faith, on the other hand, seemed to thrive during their exchange, as evidenced by the heat in her eyes and by her unguarded comments. Instead of a simpering female who sought to please him because of his status, Faith was a woman who knew her own mind and wasn’t afraid to let him know what she thought of him. And he liked that about her; most of the men he knew in his circles wouldn’t.
Agreeing to accompany him and his sister on the journey to London, Faith had every reason to enjoy herself there while hell-bent on her search for answers about her mother and their family legacy. Reminding himself to extend an invitation to the Ellesmeres in the morning, he was pleased that he had quickly come up with the plan to mollify his sister and ensure Faith’s stay with them was enjoyable.
If he really looked at his emotions then, he would have found that he was happy. Happy that he got his way in their little confrontation at Atwell Cottage. Happy that he found a way to assuage his guilt over the atrocious way he had dealt with her family in the past. Happy that Faith was staying with them. And at that thought, he exulted in the fervor of that feeling associated w
ith her. And he wanted to know more of it.
9
Ellesmere Park
Faith and Mary were snuggled together on a chaise, chatting and making plans. Since Devlin had left town to journey to London on business, he encouraged Faith to stay with her friends the Ellesmeres until his return. It was obvious Devlin took his duties as a guardian to heart, and as a result, Atwell Cottage had been closed up since. As fond as they were of Faith, the Ellesmeres welcomed her joyfully, glad of a daughter/sister of the heart among their midst.
Earlier that morning a missive from Prestonridge Manor had been delivered to the Earl and Countess of Ellesmere, and it was Lady Ellesemere who had opened and read it while everyone sat at their places in the breakfast room. Faith had been about to bite down on a piece of her toast when Lady Ellesmere screeched out an unladylike noise, and burst out to her children, “Dears, the duke has invited you to stay with them at his townhouse as company for Faith during the duration of the season. With his sponsorship, Mary, you’ll have your pick of eligible bachelors at your disposal!” Mary only rolled her eyes heavenward at her mother’s last outburst. Her mother was avidly involved in searching for a husband for Mary, but she wasn’t as heavily concerned with finding a future spouse as her mother was. Jackson merely hid his smile behind his napkin, shooting his sister teasing looks.
Faith had started at this announcement, but quickly understood the state of affairs the duke was seeking to produce. Somehow Devlin was aware of how uneasy she felt about attending her first London season and was endeavoring to allay her fears with her dearest friends as company. Ever the hero in her eyes, Faith was touched by his thoughtful gesture and reminded herself to thank him when she next saw him.
She turned to Mary to share a look of mischief and mirth, glad that they would be together for the season for the first time in Faith’s life. Mary returned the look and squealed before the two of them commenced a series of sentences that swarmed over each other. When Lady Ellesmere could no longer stand their noisy tittering, she dismissed them from the breakfast table and had them banished to the drawing room.
After a lengthy discussion of dress plans, hairstyles, and London activities in which to partake, Mary happily remarked, “How kind of the duke to invite us along, isn’t it? As your first season, you will have two of the best mentors guiding you through the nuances of ton life.
Faith begrudgingly said, “If the season was that important to me, maybe I’d be more excited about it. As it is, I’m more concerned about finding my mother’s journal, and hopefully her written clues as to where she’d gone to.”
“Oh, pooh,” Mary reproved. “It wouldn’t hurt you to at least pretend to like the prospect of parties and balls. Ones that we’d be attending together, if you recall. Don’t tell me you don’t appreciate us being there.”
Faith realized how she sounded. “I’m sorry, Mary, I’m grateful that you and Jackson will be there alongside me. It’s just that I made that vow. A vow I must see to its fulfillment at all costs.”
Mary laid an understanding hand over Faith’s. “I know, dearest. And you know you have my support, as well as that of my family’s. It’s just that I think you can fulfill what you consider your sacred duty to your mother while simultaneously allowing yourself to enjoy what life has to offer.”
“And I love you for it, Mary. But you know how I am, and I don’t know how to be anything else except honor-bound and duty-bound to the one family member who cared about me. Is it awful that I can only concentrate on one thing at a time?”
“Not at all, Faith. Given how you’ve been raised and how hard you worked to keep you and Ethan fed and clothed, I feel it’s time that someone else step in and look after you for once. You deserve a rest from that kind of worry.”
“Now that Devlin’s stepped into that role, is your mind at ease now?” Faith said, glancing at her friend questioningly.
Mary shrugged. “Well, if anything, that may just be temporary. With the London season awaiting, you just might find that special someone and need not worry about Devlin hovering over your every move.”
Faith inwardly balked at the mention of ‘that special someone’. The thought hadn’t occurred to her until Devlin himself spoke of it as part of their struck deal. Between caring for her brother, working at her songwriting and writing her regular columns for women’s circulars, there just wasn’t time to consider courtship or the idea of a potential mate. And it wasn’t seemly for a woman to actively seek one out; to do so would court scandal.
Faith sighed resignedly. “For the past six years, I have been financially independent and never had felt the need for someone to share my life with. Adding a husband to my life as it is almost feels unnecessary and frivolous for someone like me.”
Mary looked at her friend, horrified. “Why wouldn’t you be deserving of a good husband? It might not be popular for most marriages nowadays to be love matches, but if that’s what you’re looking for, there’s no reason for you to steer clear of the institution altogether.”
“But you know me best, in addition to my family history. Everyone else in the ton will only see me for my family history, and any one I set my eye on may be just as judgmental as the rest of them.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t know that. A truly decent man who can see past all that and see this beautiful, upstanding person as I do is most certainly out there waiting in the wings for you. Anyway, you have to stop saying such things about yourself. If anyone is more deserving of a loving, generous husband, it’s you.”
Encouraged a little by her friend’s words, Faith said, “All right. I know better than anyone not to paint everyone with the same color. I’ve had enough of that kind of judgment my whole life, being a Revelstoke. But I have a confession to make.”
“What is it?” Mary asked.
“You know how my part of the bargain with Devlin was to allow him to set me up for this season with a husband as the end goal?”
“Yes,” Mary said tentatively.
“Well, I just didn’t tell him that I had every intention of crying off the engagement once I secured the information I’m looking for. Devlin didn’t say I had to marry the man in exchange for his help.”
Mary gasped. “No! That’s positively Machiavellian of you, Faith! But have you considered the feelings of this nameless, faceless gentleman whose heart you may be breaking?”
Deflated, Faith admitted, “That wasn’t something I took into consideration when I thought up that plan on the spot. But to be honest, I really am not ready for marriage. I only agreed to a future engagement to get Devlin to help me find my mother’s journal.”
“But why are you so heavily opposed to marriage, Faith? Don’t you want children one day?”
Faith’s heart squeezed in her chest at the thought of a child that was hers. And Devlin’s. A child that was theirs. A child she felt was an impossibility in light of the nature of their relationship.
“I do want children one day. But I’m afraid that the person I want them with is completely out of my reach.”
Mary understood what Faith meant, as she was privy to the years Faith had pined over the man. “Oh, Faith…” she began but was cut off by Faith’s index finger pressed against her lips.
“No, I don’t need your pity. You know as well as I do that Devlin is only helping me out of his sense of duty. He’s just using the season in London as a means by which he can see to my well-being and future. I believe this husband-hunting business is his way of foisting me on someone else so that I would no longer be a hindrance.”
“Faith, I don’t believe he sees you as a hindrance.”
“You would if you’d seen him that day he came to visit at Atwell Cottage. He gave me an earful at first sight of me, believing me a kept woman! He obviously took it upon himself to bring me back from the error of my ways.”
Mary laughed. “You as a kept woman is as hard to believe as his nonexistent affection for you.”
“Well, affection is all it will eve
r be from him,” Faith said sadly.
“Dearest, please cheer up,” Mary encouraged. “We have the season to occupy us, and maybe you will find that someone who outshines Devlin in every way. Besides, we three bosom friends will slay London with our sharp wit and devastating charm that we’ll have them all slavering at our feet.”
Faith laughed at the mental image Mary had just painted for her, and said, “Well, I hope at least one of them will have the good sense to remain standing as I do not fancy a drooling man ruining my best slippers.”
Mary joined in the laughter. “Make sure not to wear your best slippers then. Or better yet, have your umbrella ready for the sudden downpour of slavering men!”
Jackson entered the drawing room precisely the moment that he witnessed both women doubled over in laughter, unable to control themselves. He gave them a few moments to comport themselves, but the two women gave no signs of stopping. He cut in, “What on earth has possessed the two of you? And what can I do to avoid whatever it is that you’ve caught?”
