by Lynda Hurst
Disappointed that there were no other mentions made of the Revelstoke legacy, Faith’s mind roved through ideas as to why her mother’s letter had specifically mentioned her journal to look for answers. It was entirely possible that there may be another journal still hidden within the house that she had yet to uncover. Another idea she entertained involved a cryptic message hidden in code in this journal but none of the accounts struck her as encoded, and even if it was, she had no clue how to begin to break it.
These thoughts meandered through her brain as she descended the stairs, ready to break her fast in the informal dining room. Distracted as she was and with her head down, she wasn’t watching her step and almost collided, nose-to-hard-as-granite-chest with Devlin who had just stepped out of the library. His arms reached up to catch her from injuring herself as she ricocheted off of him and successfully broke her backward momentum and from falling gracelessly onto the floor.
Grabbing a tight hold onto each of Devlin’s forearms, Faith gave herself a few moments to recover from the shock and let go of her iron grip on him before she apologized, “I’m sorry, Devlin. I didn’t see you there.” She straightened in a semblance of regaining her dignity and composure, but Devlin could only grin back at her.
“And a good morning to you, too,” he greeted belatedly. “I hope you do know, there’s no need to rush to breakfast. The food will still be there until everyone gets their fill.”
Faith harrumphed, and shot back, “No doubt you’ve had all morning to come up with that jibe. As it is, I am famished, and you can’t blame me for wanting to fill my belly in such a hurry,”
Devlin’s brow rose mockingly, “Oh? You just may be the first lady of my acquaintance who isn’t shy to let it be known she’s heartily partial to food.” He led her into the breakfast room as she sashayed past him straight for the sideboard laden with dishes both hot and cold.
Faith volleyed his retort with one of her own. “And I’ll have you know, a woman who claims to not need more sustenance than a bird’s own meal is deluding everyone around her as well as herself. I see no reason to starve myself just to keep a svelte figure, and it makes me a much happier person.” And she proceeded to pile her plate high with toast, baked beans, poached eggs, kippers, and bacon. With the contents of her plate precariously balanced, she magnificently strode to the table without losing a crumb, sat herself down, and heartily tucked in.
Devlin eyed her figure covertly and wondered exactly where she put it all; no one that slight would have the room to put that monstrous amount of food away. And here she was, proving him wrong to his delight. Piling his own plate as high as hers, he joined her at the table at his usual seat.
Between mouthfuls, Faith was able to answer his questions that were intended to break the silence as they were the only ones up.
“How did you sleep?”
“Just fine,” she said as she continued to eat.
“I received the bill from your modiste just this morning. Are you aware of how much you’ve spent there?”
“Yes. Your sister told me not to worry about it as she said she typically spends around that sum each time she visits there.”
“Ah, I see. I should have warned you that my sister tends to lie to suit her.”
Aghast, Faith replied quickly, “Then I can pay you back what is owed.”
Sighing, Devlin said, “No, that’s not necessary. The money isn’t an issue; it’s just that my sister has no concept of it.”
“I’m sorry, Devlin. I’m not usually a spendthrift.”
“I didn’t imply that you were. I’m sure that whatever you had chosen for yourself will be worth it when you dazzle London society.”
Faith gulped. “I admit I’m a touch nervous at the thought of coming out to society for the first time.”
“Don’t be. You’ll have me, my sister, and the Ellesmeres for support. One of the advantages of being a duke is that I only have to sneer at someone and they fall at my feet to do my bidding.”
“That sounds dreadful. I would hate to have been a recipient of one of your sneers.” Too late, she realized she had uttered a loaded statement: she and her family had been on the receiving end of his sneer long ago. Devlin could not miss the blanched look of her face upon emitting those words, and immediately the guilt for what he had done settled in his bones.
He reached across the table for her hand, held it, and said, “The past will always be between us, Faith. It connects us, and I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused you, but I cannot be sorry that our past has led to this: you, safe in my home. I promise that I will do my utmost to see you never hurt like that again.”
Faith looked up unsteadily. “Thank you, Devlin. I promise, too, that I will be more careful with my choice of wording. It wasn’t my intention to dredge up the past in that way.”
Devlin smiled at her and said, “I’m sure that you meant no harm. Now, let’s continue enjoying our breakfast, shall we?” Following his example, Faith slowly speared a bite of her eggs and brought it past her lips to chew and swallow. The two of them continued eating in an unhurried fashion.
After a few moments of chewing in silence and in an effort to try and return to their easy camaraderie of earlier, Devlin teased, “Now you’re prim and proper? What happened to the robust way you were eating earlier?”
“Devlin!” At her shout, a piece of her toast made its way across the short expanse of the table to hit him on the ear.
Devlin hadn’t expected the attack and shot her a look of surprise. “And now you’re resorting to violence by throwing projectiles at me. Will you never cease to amaze me?” He smiled widely, enjoying himself.
“You’re incorrigible!” she cried. “Why are you tormenting me?”
“Because you’re much more fun when you’re yourself, Faith. I haven’t had such an enjoyable morning by just being with you.”
Faith stopped whatever she was going to reply with as her heart jumped at his last three words. It was an innocuous enough phrase, but to hear them spill from Devlin’s lips was more than her heart could ever hope for. She returned her attention to her plate, looking down in an effort to hide the high color staining her cheeks.
Devlin adored her displays of fire and spirit and promised himself that he would endeavor to always encourage them. Her quiet stillness bothered him, reminding him of the time he’d left her in the same state when her father died, and her refusal to look up at him told him she wasn’t ready for his teasing.
Changing tactics to get her to open up to him, he asked, “How is the reading of your mother’s journal coming along? Has it been informative as you were hoping?”
Faith inwardly breathed a sigh of relief at the change in topic, and brightly said, “I’ve finished it just last night. It was wonderful to hear my mother’s voice through her words on paper, but I didn’t find what I was looking for.”
“Oh? I thought your mother’s letter mentioned that her journal would point to where the next clue for your legacy could be found.”
“I had thought so, too. Instead, I found more on her daily life than I have ever heard about during her brief visits.”
“I assume this journal isn’t the journal you needed to find?”
“I think that may be the case. But where would I begin to look?”
“Well, you already have run of my house so you can start—”
Before he could finish, the rest of the household had appeared in the breakfast room, eager to dine, and a chorus of ‘good mornings’ were exchanged between everyone. Devlin passed a look of apology towards Faith, promising her with his eyes to continue their conversation at a later time.
Faith was glad that she could open up about her mother and her journal with Devlin. It was just possible that if they worked together, they’d be able to locate answers with more swiftness than if she went about it alone. If she hadn’t agreed to Devlin’s bargain to begin with, the journal might not have even been found if Devlin hadn’t been busy poking through drawers. Sh
e couldn’t wait to discuss the journal at length with him; his help had already proved to be invaluable so far.
Mary chose that moment to interrupt her train of thought, sidled up to her with a plateful of food, and whispered, “Tsk, tsk. Alone with the duke while everyone’s still abed? What would your guardian say?”
Faith’s hand twitched to throw her second piece of toast that morning, but refrained as it was a perfectly good piece of toast that didn’t deserve such pitiless treatment. To her friend, she whispered back, “You needn’t worry so, Mary. I hear the Duke and my guardian are on very good terms, and neither one would take issue to the supposed impropriety you’re implying. I have it on good authority that both are on the same page when it comes to preserving my good name.”
Grinning at Faith’s play on words, Mary observed, “That being the case, they both should have a care for Lady Margaret’s staring daggers at the both of you just now.”
Faith looked heavenward for a sign of divine intervention on her behalf. “Lady Margaret’s feelings and reactions are beyond what I can control. If she has issue with the Duke and I together, she should know that it’s only in the capacity of that of guardian and ward.”
At least, that’s what Faith told herself later when everyone dove into their plates.
12
Lady Margaret was not pleased to enter the family’s informal dining room and find Devlin practically closeted with Faith alone for who knew how long. It wasn’t enough that the Revelstoke girl had the object of her affection wrapped around her little finger, but she had to enthrall her own brother as well. It galled her to no end that the girl she was envious of had everything fall neatly into her lap without ever having to lift a finger.
Since their arrival in town, Jackson Ellesmere had been nothing but civil to her in the company of others, and nothing but cold politeness when they weren’t. It had hurt, that aloofness. It had hurt even worse when he would direct his warmth and smiles for Faith, and none for her. How was it fair that the girl whose mother she deemed responsible for taking her father away only received good fortune and blessings while she received nothing? It couldn’t be borne!
Last week, she had written a letter to a distant cousin, a nephew of Uncle Hamish’s through marriage. She corresponded with him now and then, apprising him of family news and London life. Bidding him to come back to town for the season, she reasoned that his rusticating in the country was doing him no good and that the family would only benefit from his presence here. She explained that some of the present company in the household was disagreeable at best and that she could use an ally in him. As it was in her spoiled nature, Faith’s name was dragged through the mud in her letter to him, and it was cathartic to have confessed all she felt about the woman in a private and personal letter.
She awaited his reply and feared she wouldn’t have heard back from him until the delivery of the mail that morning. His note could not have been timed perfectly if she had anything to do with it! Cousin Benjie should be expected in town sometime today, and she couldn’t be happier. With him joining her ranks, she would have in him a companion with whom she could hide the hurt she felt when rebuffed by Jackson as well as a fellow associate in disparaging her adversary, Faith. Slanting a scornful look at Faith whose audience included Devlin, Mary, and Jackson, she decided to take charge of her own happiness by scheming up ways she and Benjie could gain back attention away from Faith and onto her own impeccable self.
It was with happy surprise for Margaret when Hugo came through the dining room announcing a visitor. Before the poor man could introduce him, Margaret jumped out of her seat and flew straight into the visitor’s arms. “Cousin Benjie! You’ve finally arrived!” He had caught her and swept her into a fond hug before setting her alongside him and turning to look about the room. It was clear that the man had dashing, dark looks, kept to the latest style, and looked to be slightly older than Devlin, if not the same age.
Hugo, having been cheated of his usual duty, cleared his throat with a cough, and broadcasted to the rest of the room’s occupants, “May I present Lord Benjamin Avery, come to call.”
Devlin thanked Hugo, and Hugo took his leave while everyone turned to set eyes upon the newcomer. Devlin waved Benjamin over and had risen from his seat to greet his cousin. “Benjie, I didn’t know you were in town. Why didn’t you write?” Hamish had also stood up to greet his nephew with his customary clap on the shoulder.
Benjamin smiled down at Margaret before meeting Devlin’s eyes and nodding his hello to Hamish and shrugged, “There wasn’t time to send word when I made the decision to open up Avery House and stay for the season’s events.”
Hamish asked, curious, “As glad as I am to see you, nephew, what, pray tell, has drawn you away from your country estate? As I recall, you tend to avoid most of the major events of the season.”
Again, Benjamin shrugged, “I had been persuaded by this minx here that I have been wasting away in the country and could use some excitement here in the city.” Benjamin took that moment to look around the room and eyed each individual. “But I see that I am keeping you from your guests. I do apologize for interrupting.” His eyes briefly glanced over Jackson, Mary, and had at last fallen on Faith. Margaret did not look at all pleased when she immediately perceived where her cousin’s attention was arrested.
“Cousin,” Benjamin said, addressing Devlin, “would you mind favoring me with introductions?”
“Oh, of course,” Devlin said, remembering his manners. Leading Benjamin to the trio still at the breakfast table, he indicated the siblings with an outstretched hand. “May I introduce Lord Jackson Ellesmere, and his sister Lady Mary Ellesmere?” Then passing a hand to Faith, he gently helped her rise. “And this is my ward, Lady Faith Revelstoke. Everyone, this is my cousin through Hamish, Lord Benjamin Avery.”
Everyone exchanged their appropriate how-do-you-do’s, and Benjamin returned his attention to Faith once the pleasantries were complete. “Revelstoke? That’s a name I haven’t heard in an age. Are you by any chance a relation to the late Earl, Edwin Revelstoke?”
Faith murmured, point-blank. “He was my father.”
Benjamin’s brows shot up to his forehead in surprise but quickly collected himself to remember his manners. “I do apologize for your loss, Lady Revelstoke. Forgive my tactlessness.”
Ready to forgive, Faith replied. “It’s quite all right, Lord Avery. I wasn’t as close to my father as one might think, but he was my father.”
“I see,” Benjamin said. Faith wasn’t sure what he did see, but didn’t think to ask. He continued, “I apologize if I offend, but may I ask how is it that Devlin here is your guardian and not one of your own relatives?”
Undaunted, Faith replied before Devlin could interject, “Possibly because there are no relatives. My older brothers left for America not long after Father died, and my sister married and moved away to Scotland. As for Devlin, you will have to ask him how that has come about.”
Devlin looked at her askance, almost applauding her for neatly placing the responsibility of explaining their odd situation. He began, “The how is not as important as it’s already been legally sanctioned. It was at the request of her mother that I look after Faith and her younger brother, Ethan. It’s my way of doing right by the family as I am somewhat responsible for what befell them.”
Now it was Devlin’s turn to receive an inquiring look from Benjamin, but was thankful he wasn’t barraged with more questions on behalf of Faith’s feelings. Feeling protective of Faith was becoming more and more natural as he watched his cousin eyeing Faith, not ogling her outright, but carefully observing her as if she were a specimen under glass.
Taking advantage of the brief pause, Margaret edged herself between Benjamin and Devlin, effectively giving her back to Faith while appearing to only address her two male relatives. “Cousin Benjie, will you not join us for the remainder of our breakfast meal? The present company, excluding my own relatives of course, is tedious and I’d
like to know more about how things are back at your estate.” she simpered with overly sweet tones.
Faith sharply felt the sting of having been rudely given the cut direct in front of everyone there, and could not prevent her cheeks from blooming with heat at Margaret’s slight. Both Benjamin and Devlin recognized the insult, and both men verbally stumbled over each other in an attempt to make amends. Faith, however, took matters into her own hands, as she had years of practice at being her own rescuer when it came to her own problems.
“Excuse me, everyone. If I am to meet my prescribed deadlines set by my publishers, I have urgent business that must be seen to at once,” she loudly declared. She made her excuses to both Devlin and Benjamin, heard the twins murmur their see-you-laters, and darted out of the room with her head held high.
Faust awaited her just outside the dining room as he must have been waiting nearby. For as long as she had him in her employ, she marveled how Faust always managed to pull an inexplicable appearing act when she was troubled or feeling low. She couldn’t quite explain how he knew, but without fail he seemingly appeared out of thin air when she needed him. She nodded at him when she met his eyes, and he handed her a stack of letters, newly arrived that morning for her, and she readily received them.
