Keeping Faith

by Beverley Oakley

  Faith hated knowing this was true. As much as she hated being so receptive to the woman’s words, right now. A fire was raging in her breast. Had Mr Westaway really seduced and then abandoned an innocent young woman?

  “So, Faith, I cannot have a similar fate befalling you, can I?” Her tone was concerned. “Not the girl I’ve nurtured all these years. My own proxy daughter.”

  Faith blinked. This was hardly what she supposed Mrs Gedge considered her. Mrs Gedge might have paid for an education, a wardrobe of fine clothes, and a roof over her head, but that had all been for her own self-interest. She’d never made a secret, from the beginning, that Faith was nothing more to her than a means to an end—a method of betrayal.

  The way Mrs Gedge now laid out the supposed facts was far more disturbing than Faith might ever have thought.

  If she’d truly thought about it at all.

  They were outside Lady Vernon’s lodgings now, and the door to the old dowager’s house was being opened by a servant. Light spilled over the portico as Faith was helped to disembark, swishing her pink and black swathed skirts behind her.

  Tomorrow, they would be silver and black adorned with crystals and velvet bows when Faith stepped out on Mr Westaway’s arm to a no-doubt rapturous welcome from an adoring public.

  Would she quiz him about the letter? About everything Mrs Gedge had told her surrounding his relationship with Miss Constancia? Or would she follow through with their own escape plan, trusting that this time Crispin really was in love with her, and that he would be waiting when it was time for them to slip away? What of this childhood sweetheart? Was she still lurking in the wings? Or was she a figure of Mrs Gedge’s imagination?

  Yet, she had seen the letter briefly, when there was enough light to persuade her that it was Crispin’s handwriting. And she had read the sentence that mentioned Constancia.

  Faith’s heart was heavy, and her mind was in turmoil as she climbed under the covers of her bed that night.

  But as she drifted off to sleep, she was comforted to recall the light in Crispin’s eyes when he had bid her farewell. And all the other times when he’d gazed upon her with a look that was so real and so intense, she could not entertain a shadow of doubt that he truly loved her and meant every promise he’d ever made.

  Well, tomorrow he would have to make one final pledge for her to believe him. If he truly loved her, he would not promise to run away with her only to then leave her in the lurch.

  If he agreed to run away with her in order to be secretly married before he departed for Germany, she’d know his heart was true.

  Chapter 19

  “Mrs Gedge organised for me to wear this?” Faith stared at the exquisite white and silver gown laid out on the bed in her chamber in Lady Vernon’s house, adorned with swathes of white velvet bows, and compared it to the plain finery she’d worn previously. Wondered, also, if she’d have to give it back.

  But Lady Vernon, who was smiling for a change, said, “Mrs Gedge recognises when a job has been well done. This is your reward. To step out in style so you can compete with the most well-endowed heiresses. Mr Westaway won’t be able to keep his eyes off you. Or his hands.” She sent Faith a beady look. “No doubt he’ll find a way to spirit you away into a back room for a short while. And no doubt you’ll relish the opportunity.”

  Lady Vernon’s mind was like a gutter, Faith decided, though refrained from saying so.

  “It’s your chance to entrench what he’ll miss for the rest of his life. For you will leave him shortly afterwards, and he will forever wonder why. You will break his heart.”

  “While I go on to enjoy the happiness that is my reward, bolstered by a handsome cheque from Mrs Gedge? It’s a fair exchange.” Faith tried to summon enthusiasm as her mind whirled over how she might make her own escape.

  “After tonight, when he is happily thinking of your glorious years ahead together, you will be spirited away to somewhere he can’t find you.” Lady Vernon chuckled at Faith’s blank look and traced a fingertip reverentially down the front of the gown upon the bed. “Ah, I wore a gown such as this, once. Many years ago.” Her expression softened. “It earned me a marriage proposal, too.” She looked up at Faith. “You surely didn’t think we’d simply abandon you, my dear girl. After all you’ve done for us and knowing that Mr Westaway has no intention of keeping true to any pledges he might have made you. He would not have followed through. Indeed, he would not. We are looking after you, as you deserve, and we have a place for you to hide while poor Mr Westaway wonders what has become of you.” She straightened and clapped her hands. In an instant, her dresser had materialised, and Lady Vernon put her hand on the doorknob.

  “You will be a sight for sore eyes, my dear. Tonight will be a special night, indeed.”

  “One could tell she was a beauty when she was floating in that lake wearing what might be mistaken for a nightdress, but look at her now.”

  The chuckle that followed the young reporter’s comment was the first distinct piece of conversation Faith heard as she passed in a seeming daze through the packed reception hall.

  Crispin disengaged himself from his conversation with Miss Eaves and Sir Albion, intercepting Faith a few feet away.

  For a second, they halted and stared at one another while the crowd pulsed around them.

  “I have never seen a woman as stunning as you look tonight,” he whispered, his eyes raking her with unbridled admiration. “And all too soon I have to give you up to all the other people who want to similarly compliment you and be seen with the latest toast to London town.”

  Faith glanced about her and saw they were garnering a good deal of interest and that his words were true. If they were ever to succeed in slipping away together, she’d better not allow him to be too singular in his attentions.

  “People are looking,” she whispered. “Oh Crispin, we won’t have a moment to ourselves this evening, and I’d so wanted to talk to you.” Her chest tightened, and the knot of worry grew.

  “And I to you, my dearest. We must get married before I leave for Germany. You are so right, and I’ve been caught up in this…frenzy, fielding probing questions from father who is hardly delighted, I’m afraid. He threatens to come down to London before I depart for Germany when that had not been the plan.” He glanced about him, his frown creased. The reception hall was a sumptuous location for an event like this, but there were no antechambers where they might be private.

  Faith saw Lady Albion turn from her conversation with her husband. She was bearing down on her, when Crispin said in a rushed whisper, “Your chaperone seemed only too happy to give us licence to be alone together, before. Is it possible?”

  His words trailed off and Faith tugged his sleeve, urging him to finish his sentence. The suggestion had to come from Crispin. Faith could not be seen to be too desperate.

  He raked back his hair, smiled at the advancing dowager and whispered, “There is an inn not far from here that I know can be accessed from a side street so that you might be completely unobserved in entering. The Green Whistle. Could you possibly meet me there when tonight’s proceedings are finished?”

  “Do you mean…we’d run away together, tonight, Crispin?” She was fairly certain he didn’t mean this, but he needed to give her some idea of his plans on the timing of their elopement.

  “I’m not in a position to do that yet, my darling. One more day, and everything will be organised to my satisfaction.”

  “What is so important to organise tomorrow?”

  “I have interviews; my photograph will be taken, and there are many wonderful things that will happen to entrench my reputation as an artist that have been planned for tomorrow. Oh Faith, you have no idea.” His voice caught with emotion, and Faith understood the enormity of achieving one’s life’s ambition. Wasn’t she within a hair’s breadth of achieving hers?

  Yet…

  “I’m sorry, but we can’t do it tonight, Faith.” Concern wiped away his ebullience, and he leaned forw
ard slightly. “It’s too soon, though you surely can’t imagine I’m prevaricating because I’m not sincere.”

  She shook her head, though she wasn’t sure what to think. “I shall be at The Green Whistle later tonight. Somehow, I’ll contrive it.”

  “Tell the servant who lets you in that you have room bespoken in the name of Mrs Emily Hardwicke.” He glanced at her hands as if he would whisk them up and kiss them with an ardour to match that that was in his voice.

  And then Lady Vernon was upon them; her gushing praise of Crispin’s prodigious talent bringing their conversation to an end.

  The soiree seemed to last forever, while Faith did her best to conduct herself appropriately. She was a shy debutante with a modicum of intelligence, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, and her efforts to project that image were aided by Lady Vernon, who made an apparent attempt to draw Faith out of her shyness.

  “Answer Miss Eaves’s question, Faith dearest,” she said with contrived gentleness on one occasion when Faith was faced with a volley of queries on her impressions of London.

  “It can feel overwhelming to a country girl,” Faith said, glancing at Crispin on the other side of the room, in earnest discussion with a group of gentlemen. Her body throbbed at the thought of being alone with him in just a couple of short hours.

  “And you have brothers and sisters, I gather. A few of them. What do they think of your success? What a shame they could not be here.” Miss Eaves’s pencil sped across the page.

  “Everything happened so fast with the announcement of Mr Westaway winning such a grand prize they did not have time to make the journey.” Faith was careful to avoid mentioning anything that might indicate even the location of her family. They were sunk in rusticity and never heard the London news until the greatest events were at least a month old. They certainly would make no connection between their Faith and the glorious creature she’d become.

  The gathering began to disperse towards midnight, and Lady Vernon took Faith’s arm, drawing her towards the door after they’d said their farewells.

  “You have arranged a final assignation? The moment to cement what you are to him? To exact the greatest revenge when you are whisked away forever tomorrow?” Her beady eyes roamed over Faith’s expression as if she were looking for guile. She gave Faith’s wrist a squeeze. “Ah, but I’m sorry that it had to end this way though there really was no other, was there? The young man is enjoying his greatest moment of glory, and your secret visit to him will fill his heart with triumphant joy. He thinks he is on the cusp of life, the pinnacle of attainment, but that is how Mrs Gedge planned it. There is no more acute suffering than to have reached such dizzy heights before such a crushing fall.”

  Foreboding sliced through Faith. Was this really all Mrs Gedge had planned for Crispin? Was the extent of her loathing for him so great that destroying his happiness was her only plan? Or did she intend Crispin’s descent to be an even greater one?

  She forced a smile. “He will be distraught,” she murmured. “For he loves me greatly. I have done everything Mrs Gedge would have me do. He is enslaved.”

  She had to believe that.

  For if she couldn’t count on the security of his love, she had nothing.

  But in the private room at The Green Whistle, Crispin’s ardour and sincerity could not be in doubt. Instead of swooping upon her with words of enthusiasm as to the astonishing reception he’d received that evening, his words were all for her.

  “I couldn’t have done it without you, Faith! You were the most glittering star in the firmament, my exquisite girl.” He swept her into his embrace and covered her face and neck in kisses. “Because of you, I’m where I’ve always wanted to be in life. My work…my painting has been more important to me than anything. That is, until I met you.” He cupped her face and stared into her eyes. “You think I’m not sincere about running away with you?” He dropped his voice. “We both have good reason to marry in secret, though I believe mine is greater.” Then a smile tugged at his mouth. “I don’t care about your family hounding me for what I can do for them, financially or otherwise, for I would gladly do it. I would do anything that would please you, Faith. But my father would put everything in my way to prevent me marrying you, Faith, and that’s the truth. He’s always wanted me to marry the daughter of his best friend, our neighbour, and there was a time when I thought I could do it. But my heart was not engaged.”

  “And the young lady? Is she in expectation of a marriage proposal?”

  “No. We’ve known one another since we were children, and a match between us was once considered desirable by our parents. I’m sure she’s as relieved as I am that the idea has not been mentioned again.”

  “So, there’ve been no other young ladies who’ve…entranced you?”

  Crispin laughed and set her at arm’s length. “I suppose you need to get the full measure of me before you make your final commitment to becoming my wife. All right—the truth…” His expression was suddenly serious. It was as if all the joy had drained out of him.

  “Oh Crispin, there has!” Faith cried, but he pulled her back into his arms, shaking his head, fiercely.

  “There was a young lady with whom you might say I was unwillingly involved a few years ago.” He hesitated.

  Lord, was he referring to Miss Gedge? Faith froze in his arms and willed him to go on without prompting questions that might seem odd to him.

  But he seemed inclined to talk.

  “She was a lovely girl. Bright, golden hair, a little like yours though she had not your serenity, your beauty. In fact, there was nothing serene about her. She was determined to make a catch, and she was…what is the term? Brash?”

  “So, not a shy and sweet young thing from the provinces.”

  “Oh no, she was an American heiress looking for a title. She could have done better than me. Her mother hoped she would. But she fell for me, and it took very little on my part to make her believe we were destined to be together forever.”

  “So, you gave her hope?”

  “Oh Faith, you know I’m not like that. I never believed I did at the time. But then she started writing me passionate love letters. I didn’t know what to do. I told her that I was going to marry my childhood sweetheart. That my father had arranged it years ago, and this is how matters went in our world. I tried to make it less wounding and put the blame on me, but she was persistent.”

  Faith felt him shrinking away from her until he gently extricated himself from their embrace and went to the window. Softly, he said, “She killed herself because of me. You need to know that, Faith.”

  Faith ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, more joyful than she could show, for she believed he was nothing but truthful in his portrayal of the affair with Miss Constancia Gedge. It all made complete sense, now.

  “If it’s so painful to you, please, say nothing more, Crispin.” She squeezed him tight and Crispin kissed the top of her head, tilting up her face to say with concern, “You’re crying, Faith. What is it?”

  “I haven’t been entirely truthful with you, Crispin, and if you truly love me enough to want to run away with me, then I need to tell you something.”

  She felt him freeze, before the inevitable thaw, because of course he loved her, and that meant he trusted her…

  Only, would he still love her when she had come to the end of her confession?

  “What is it you want to tell me, Faith?”

  The tone was encouraging, loving still, but for how much longer?

  She took a breath, struggling for the truth she owed him. “I’m more than just a penniless debutante looking to make a good match.”

  He registered this with a squeeze and a murmur. “No, you’re so much more than that, Faith. Of course, I know it.”

  She heard the rattle of a wagon on the cobbled street below the window and waited for silence. “My family origins are obscure. Far more obscure than I’ve led you to believe. Yes, I have nine brothers and sisters, an
d parents who will indeed touch you for every penny you might have and that’s because they have nothing. They’re yeoman, country stock. Some would call them peasants, and I would be one of them had it not been for a rich benefactress who gave me an education when I was in service.”

  She pulled away and looked at him, tortured by the extent of what she’d divulged to no one else. What would he think, not only in view of the fact he’d been lied to, but that she was so very humble?

  He looked surprised. His frown and the way he was chewing his bottom lip were not signs she liked.

  “You lied to me, Faith? About this? About your family?”

  Faith twisted her hands together. Oh lord, if he were upset about her lying about this, how would he react to everything else?

  Trying not to cry, she whispered, “When I got the opportunity to be your model; when Lady Vernon persuaded you to paint me, I never thought it would lead to this. I had the right credentials for that. For an artist’s model. I could be silent; I could be enigmatic. What did it matter what else I was or wasn’t? You’d made it so very clear that even if I’d had the slightly more elevated background I’d told you I had, I still could not be considered suitable in your father’s eyes, and therefore not in yours.” She pulled her cloak about her shoulders and began to pace. Would he send her away? She thought she’d die of a broken heart if he did. Quietly, she went on, “I didn’t trouble myself about telling you the truth, because I imagined that if I were to be given more work for other painters my real background would play against me. But then I fell in love with you, Crispin, and you loved me back. I pressed you into showing your real feelings, and then pressed you even more to run away with me.”

  Leaning against the wall, she dropped her head. “I don’t expect that, now. I’m not here to beg you to run away with me because the truth changes everything. I’ve lied to you, and I am not the woman you thought me.”