The list went on and on, through anger, pain, loss and outright fury. But the last question was always the same. Why couldn’t you have just left me alone in that airport bar?
Because if he’d never met Faith, his life wouldn’t be so disordered, so confused. And people wouldn’t be discussing his private life again, the way they had after the revelations about his mother’s affair.
And that, he had to admit, was the part that made him angriest of all.
But the dark-haired woman across the street, or the park, or the shop was never Faith, so he never got to ask her any of the things on his list.
No one seemed to know where she was, but Dominic assumed she’d skipped abroad again. The reporters had staked out Fowlmere for a few days after he checked out of the Greyfriars and it became clear she was no longer there with him. He’d read a brief statement from Lord Fowlmere saying that his daughter was just fine, thank you, but taking a little time off. No hint on where she might be doing that. Dominic couldn’t even be sure that the man really did know where Faith was.
The search for the runaway heiress had reached a dead end.
* * *
Until, unexpectedly, one evening, at a charity ball Sylvia had insisted he attend, the woman across the room really was Faith, and he didn’t even recognise her.
‘Look!’ Sylvia nudged him in the ribs, hard, just in case he’d missed her not-at-all-discreet attempt at a stage whisper.
Dominic straightened his dinner jacket. ‘Where, exactly, am I looking?’
‘Over there! Cream dress. Gorgeous skin. Hair pinned back.’
He followed her also-not-discreet pointing finger with his gaze. ‘Still not getting it,’ he said. Except he was. There was something. Not in the polite expression of interest on the woman’s face as she listened to some bore drone on. And not in the high-cut evening dress, complete with pearls. But underneath all that...
‘It’s Faith, you idiot!’ Sylvia prodded him in the ribs again. ‘You need to go and talk to her.’
Around him, the room was already starting to buzz. Whispers of his name and hers. Those looks he thought he’d left behind years ago, the ones that said: We know your secrets.
What was she doing here? Shouldn’t she be in Italy or Australia or anywhere by now? Not standing next to her father at the most glamorous, most publicised and photographed charity ball of the year.
Had she really gone home? The journalists must have grown bored of staking out a crumbling estate in the middle of nowhere pretty quickly not to have noticed. But if her big plan was to go home anyway, why couldn’t she have just stayed long enough for him to fix things?
He had to leave. He’d drop a large enough donation to the charity to excuse his absence at the ball, and he’d be gone. No way he was providing entertainment to a room full of gossip hounds by actually talking to Faith.
‘People are starting to stare,’ Sylvia pointed out, as if he hadn’t noticed.
‘Let them.’ Dominic slammed his champagne flute onto a passing waiter’s tray. ‘I’m leaving.’
‘Dominic, no.’ Sylvia grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and held on, her brightly polished nails digging into his arm through the fabric. ‘Look, the only way this blows over is if you and Faith act like it doesn’t matter. You can’t be all affronted and embarrassed. You have to bore them out of it.’
‘I’m not talking to her.’ Just looking at her, acting the perfect heiress she’d never been before, had made it perfectly clear she couldn’t be for him... It made his teeth ache his jaw was clenched so hard.
‘Well, if you won’t, I will,’ Sylvia said, marching off across the room before Dominic could react.
Any eyes that weren’t on him before swivelled round to catch the scene.
Bore them, she’d said. Somehow, Dominic suspected that wasn’t the most likely outcome of this situation.
* * *
‘Of course, I’ve always found...’ Lord Hassleton said, and Faith tuned out again, secure in the knowledge that the peer liked the sound of his own voice far too much to ever expect her to comment on what he was actually saying. As long as she nodded occasionally and kept a polite smile on her lips, she’d be fine. And maybe one day, if she was really lucky, one of those waiters with the trays of champagne would come her way and give her another glass. Or brain Lord Hassleton with the silver tray. She wasn’t fussy.
This was her role, for now. She’d got her parents to keep quiet about her return, hiding out in her room until the photographers outside Fowlmere Manor grew bored. But it seemed her father was deadly serious about them working together on the regeneration. She couldn’t hide for ever, not if they were going to save the Manor, he said. They needed to get out there, meet people, start making new connections, new networks. And no one pulled a guilt trip quite like her father, so here she was, shaking hands, smiling politely and wishing she was anywhere else in the world.
It was only until her father got everything up and running, she told herself. After the intense interest about her return in the media, she needed this new boring Faith to make people forget her past. Then she could get on with fixing her future.
‘Faith!’ The bright voice to her left made Faith freeze. She didn’t relax one iota when she realised who it was.
‘Oh, Lord Hassleton,’ Sylvia said, her tone light and happy and lots of other things Faith wouldn’t really expect from Dominic’s sister. ‘I’m so sorry to interrupt. But you don’t mind if I steal Lady Faith away from you for just a moment or two, do you? It’s been an age since I saw her, and I’m dying to catch up.’
Lord Hassleton looked down at Sylvia’s petite hand on his chubby arm and said, ‘No, no, of course not. You gels go and...talk, or whatever.’ He turned to Faith, and she quickly twisted her lips back into the fake smile she’d perfected in the mirror. ‘We’ll continue this another time, Lady Faith.’
‘I look forward to it,’ Faith lied.
But as she turned away from Lord Hassleton and let Sylvia lead her across the room, she started to think she might have had a better time listening to another hour’s rambling on sewage works near his estate, or whatever it was the man had been going on about.
Just steps away stood Dominic, watching her with wary eyes. How had she not noticed him come in? Too busy trying to stay awake while listening to Lord Hassleton drone on, she supposed. But now... Now she could feel the stares on her back, the anticipation in the room. Everyone knew they’d been together. Everyone knew she hadn’t been seen again since, until tonight. And everyone was waiting to see what would happen next.
‘I don’t think this is a good idea, Sylvia,’ she said, slowing to a halt.
‘Trust me, it is.’ Sylvia tucked a hand through Faith’s arm and dragged her forward, smiling like a politician. ‘Like I told him, the only way this ends is if you two act like it doesn’t matter.’
But it does matter, Faith didn’t say.
‘Faith,’ Dominic said as they reached him, his voice cold and clipped. ‘I wouldn’t have expected to see you here.’
‘I lost a bet,’ Faith joked, and watched as Dominic’s eyebrows sank into a frown.
Sylvia glanced between them, eyes wide. ‘You know what? I think maybe I’d better leave you two to this.’
‘Probably safest,’ Faith agreed with a nod. Then, glancing around the room, she watched as every person there suddenly pretended not to be staring at them.
‘Actually,’ Faith said, turning away so most people couldn’t see her face, ‘why don’t we take this conversation out onto the balcony, Lord Beresford? Fewer witnesses that way.’
Sylvia’s eyes grew wider still, but Dominic just gave a sharp nod and took her arm. ‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WITNESSES. SHE WAS worried about witnesses. Dominic supposed that he should be grateful sh
e wanted to take the conversation out of the public domain, but instead all he could think about was what on earth she had planned she didn’t want witnesses for.
Or perhaps she was more afraid of what he might do. His list of questions rose up in the back of his mind but, in the end, the moment the balcony door swung shut, the first thing he said was simply, ‘Why?’
Leaning back against the balcony rails, too high up above ground for Dominic to really feel comfortable with her lounging over them, Faith raised an eyebrow. ‘Why what? Why did I leave? Why did I lie? Why am I here?’
‘Yes,’ he said. He wanted answers to all of them. He also wanted to know how he could be so furious with her and yet so desperate to kiss her at the same time, but he suspected she wouldn’t have the answer for that one.
Besides, fury was winning by a comfortable margin.
‘You ran away,’ he said, the words hard in his mouth. ‘I was going to fix this. I could have stopped all of...this.’ He waved an arm at the expanse of windows between them and the ballroom, where a host of well-connected people in evening dress were barely even pretending not to be watching them any more. ‘All you had to do was stay put and—’
‘And let you fix my life?’ Faith’s voice was cool, colder than he thought he’d heard it before. As if she thought she had some right to be angry with him, after everything that had happened. ‘No thank you. My life, my problems, my solutions.’
‘Solutions? Since when did running away solve anything?’
Faith tilted her head as she looked at him, and Dominic couldn’t tear his eyes away from the lovely line of her neck above her dress. ‘That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You’re mad at me for leaving you.’
His gaze jerked back to her face. ‘No! I’m furious because you lied to me. You risked my reputation and you ruined a deal I’ve been working on for years.’
She stilled, and for a brief moment he thought he saw something like guilt in her face. ‘The Americans didn’t sign?’
‘Not yet. They want to see where we are when things have “settled down”.’
Faith winced. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘That’s the thing you’re sorry for?’ He laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. ‘Of course. The job always meant more to you than I did.’
‘No.’ Her eyes jumped up to meet his and for a second he almost believed her. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth. But I knew how you’d react, what would happen if it got out. I couldn’t risk it.’
‘Because you needed me. You needed the job.’
‘Yes.’ Her gaze dropped to her shoes. ‘I didn’t know who you were either, when I met you. Not when I first asked for the job. And even then...it wasn’t until later that I realised what me being, well, me, could do to you. And by then, things between us had become...more.’
Dominic pushed away from the wall and paced across to the edge of the balcony. From there, he could see all over London, all the places he’d never again be able to look at without thinking of her. But it was still better than looking at her face. ‘It was never more. The first sign of trouble you ran away, like you always do.’
‘I went home.’
‘I know.’ He shook his head, leaning against the rails as he stared down at the street below. ‘Letting me help you was such a terrible prospect that you ran straight to the place you’d been trying to get away from all along.’
‘I didn’t have a lot of options.’ There was an edge in her voice now. Good. She should be angry too. Between them, they’d messed this up good and proper. And even if it was all her fault, he wanted her angry. Wanted her to hate the way their one night had ended.
He shouldn’t be the only one being eaten up by the fury.
He couldn’t show it anywhere else. To the rest of the world, he needed to be the same in control Lord Beresford he’d always been. This couldn’t be seen as more than a tiny blip on his life radar.
But to her...she knew. And so she was the only person he could tear apart.
‘You had my credit card,’ he pointed out. ‘You could have gone anywhere in the world if you’d really wanted.’
Faith gave him a scornful glare. ‘You think I’m a common thief, now? Gosh, you really don’t have any respect for people outside your social sphere, do you?’
‘But you’re not outside it. You’re Lady Faith.’ He spat out the last two words. ‘And I’ve learned a lot about what that means in the last three weeks.’
‘Don’t believe everything you read in the papers,’ she said, as if it were a joke. As if it were even the slightest bit funny.
He turned to face her. He needed to see her reacting to this one. ‘Maybe not. But a picture is worth a thousand words, don’t they say?’
There. A tremor of something, under the bravado. But still, she tried to excuse herself. ‘Like the picture of us?’
‘We can’t deny what happened just before it, however much we might want to,’ he said. ‘And it seems like it wasn’t your first time in that particular situation.’
That was it. That was the line that got to her. Her whole body, usually so kinetic and full of energy, stopped cold. The only time he’d ever seen her so still was in his hotel room, just before she ran.
Dominic half hoped she might just run again. But she didn’t.
* * *
‘You mean Jared,’ Faith said, proud that she could even find her voice. Did he truly think this was the same? That she had some habit of causing scandals for guys and then skipping town?
She’d hoped he knew her better than that. Apparently her real name wasn’t the only thing he hadn’t realised.
‘I heard the poor guy left his wife and kids for you, before you ran. Guess I should be grateful that all I had to lose was my reputation.’
‘Funny. I always thought that was all you cared about anyway. If it wasn’t, maybe you’d have the wife and kids already and would never have to have worried about me at all.’ Ouch, that hurt. It hurt her, and she was the one saying it. But if he honestly believed everything they printed about her...well, a little insult was nothing, surely.
And Dominic wouldn’t let her see, even if it did sting. His expression was back to that robot look of the early days, the one that didn’t let anything show. The one that had almost convinced her that he wasn’t interested in her, didn’t want her the way she wanted him.
But she knew better now. She knew him, even if he’d never really known her.
He drew back, leaning away from her against the railings. He wasn’t going to rise to the bait. Of course not. As much as she’d love a knock-down drag-out fight with the guy, just to get it all out, to clear the air, maybe even let them start afresh...Dominic would never let go like that. And he’d certainly never do it where they had an audience. Through it all, he’d kept his voice low, his hands clenched at his sides or holding the railings. No outward sign of the fury burning in him.
Well, the crowd behind the glass might not be able to tell, but Faith knew. She knew he was every bit as angry as she was. And she knew he’d never let himself show it.
‘So. What are your plans now? Will you stay at Fowlmere as the happy heiress?’
‘You mean, will we be required to make polite conversation at every social function until the end of time?’ Faith shook her head. ‘Thankfully for both of us, no. Dad needs a little help setting up a new project, something to get the estate running properly again, and then I’ll be on my way. Fowlmere is only ever a temporary stop for me.’
‘You’ll be running away again, then. Of course.’
Faith bristled at that. ‘I’m not running from anything. I’m running to something new. My new life. A life where I don’t have to answer to people like you.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘People like me?’
‘Yes, people like you. And them
!’ Faith swept an arm out to encompass their audience, just a window pane away. He was the only one on that balcony who cared if they knew they were talking about them. ‘All you care about is what other people think about you, what they say. Your precious reputation.’
‘What’s left of it now you’re done with it,’ Dominic muttered and grabbed her arm, trying to keep her calm, undemonstrative. Docile.
Ha!
Faith wrenched her arm away. ‘Why does it matter to you so much what people think? So your mother left. That’s her story, not yours! So you slept with a scandalous runaway heiress. Who cares? And what makes it any of their business anyway?’
‘You cared,’ he pointed out. ‘Or are you trying to tell me that when you ran away the first time it wasn’t because of what people were saying about you and Hawkes?’ He shook his head. ‘All that time I wasted trying to figure out what dreadful secret had made you leave Italy, when all the time I should have been trying to find out why you left Britain in the first place.’
‘It wasn’t because of Jared,’ Faith said, remembering how it had felt, then, to be on the receiving end of that media fever. At least this time she’d actually slept with the guy. ‘Not entirely, anyway. I just wanted to be somewhere—someone—else. I wanted people to not care what I did, to be able to live my own life.’
‘Without caring what you left behind.’
‘That’s not true,’ she said, but she knew he was never going to understand. ‘And you never answered my question. Why does your reputation matter so much to you?’
His lips curved into a cruel smile. ‘Didn’t you say it yourself? It’s all I have.’
‘No, it’s not.’ She looked up at him, willing him to understand this one thing, even if everything else between them would forever be a battleground. ‘You have so much more. I saw it, that night in London. The real you. You’re more than just Lord Beresford. You’re Dominic, too. And you’re denying the real you just to keep up a façade in front of people who don’t even matter!’
Heiress on the Run (Harlequin Romance) Page 13
