Miss Eaves flushed, but she kept her composure. “I resent the criticism, Miss Montague, though I understand your resentment at having been exposed for living a lie. I am a fierce advocate for furthering the opportunities of the fairer sex, but women will only ever be taken seriously, especially as newspaper reporters, if we are not afraid to speak the truth, however unpalatable.”
Faith closed her eyes. “I don’t disagree with you. But I cannot begin to explain the risk you run in ruining reputations, not least your own, if the truth as you see it, is only the partial truth.”
Miss Eaves leaned against the table, and her fingers drummed an agitated tattoo. “Photographs don’t lie. There was the truth, Miss Montague, and I told it. I’m sorry if it destroyed your marital chances, but the whole of society can breathe a sigh of relief that you did not insinuate yourself into their ranks once you were shown to be—”
“To be…what, Miss Eaves? The mistress of Lord Harkom, because that’s what was suggested by the photograph? To be a prostitute, because the camera showed me standing in a room surrounded by women who certainly weren’t dressed like ladies and so that was the assumption?” Faith shook her head. “That photograph was taken minutes before Lord Harkom attacked me, wanting what I refused to give since I had never traded my body for money or anything else—and I never have or will, which is why I work as a governess.” She indicated her clothing.
“Please, Miss Montague; it is very easy to don a garment and pretend to be what you are not.”
“It is, Miss Eaves. And that is what I did for three years as I was groomed to entice Mr Westaway to fall in love with me once I became his muse for the art prize which a wealthy woman—also American—established in order to wreak her own warped vengeance. I lived at Madame Chambon’s, but I was not one of her girls. And I have never traded my body for money or material gain. Not with Lord Harkom or anyone else.”
“This is sounding more and more like a Penny Dreadful novel, Miss Montague.” Miss Eaves swatted at a fly and began to pace. “You can’t expect me to believe a word of what you say.”
“Of course, because words can twist the truth, yet photographs can’t? That photograph was staged. So much of what you inferred was untrue.”
“My inferences were endorsed and expanded by someone who knew very well the lie you lived.”
“Indeed? And who was that? A woman who was jealous? A man whom I’d refused? Whoever it was, was certainly no friend of mine, though I might begin to guess.”
“Lady Vernon came to see me. Yes, the dowager duchess. She’d discovered your true identity, and was incensed that someone like you should become the darling of the town when she knew what you really were.”
“And had done since the moment she deposited me at Madame Chambon’s three years before, and on every occasion she escorted me to my tutor in Bethnal Green, or to take tea at the Dorchester with Mrs Gedge who established the art prize with just this outcome in mind. Yes, the millionaire American woman who wanted to kill the joy in Mr Westaway, the man whom she held responsible for her daughter’s suicide, but she wanted to destroy me in the process because she couldn’t bear that I was alive and beautiful, while her daughter was cold in the ground. An eager, gullible female reporter played very nicely into her hands.”
Miss Eaves raised her chin and looked squarely at Faith. “I’m sorry I’m unable to offer you tea, Miss Montague.”
“No matter, since I would not have accepted.” She sent a pointed look at the newspaper in its frame upon the wall that had dissected her life as its front-page story. “It’s so easy to believe that what one sees constitutes the truth. So much more so when you choose to believe that higher rank constitutes a greater propensity for delivering the truth. I’m afraid I have to go now.” She ran her hands down the sides of her serviceable gown. “It’s time for me to change into something more appropriate for this evening.”
“Well, I’m glad you still have such evenings to look forward to then, Miss Montague. You had quite convinced me that I was the architect of the ruin of your entire life.” She sniffed.
“I would never lay that at anyone’s door, Miss Eaves. And nor do I look forward to this evening in the slightest. I simply hope that the risk I take will reveal a truth that will advance the safety of those nearest and dearest to me.”
Chapter 25
The looking glass was very complimentary. Or perhaps it was the dim lighting. Or the pale pink ruffled gown that clung to Faith’s curves, accentuating her slim hips, flat belly, and generous breasts. The fashions of the day could be most suggestive, and a young lady who wore them as well as Faith did, was sure to come in for a great deal of generous praise.
Which was why it was important that Faith make her exit from Madame Chambon’s without having been noticed.
She’d dressed in Charity’s room, helped by her friend who’d acted as lady’s maid, pulling in her corset until Faith could barely breathe. Charity was slighter than she was, and Faith had not worn fashionable, constricting corsets for a year.
When her coiffure was complete, a riot of curls rippling down her back, secured by a braid that held her fringe back, and a pair of sapphire earrings dangling beneath her ears, Charity’s gasp of admiration was the first step needed to bolster the confidence that was fast being eroded by fear.
She’d always feared Lord Harkom. Right from the moment she’d noticed the wild gleam in his eyes when drinking with the other girls when she was a fifteen-year-old and made to peek from the top of the stairs to observe how the ladies used their attractions to lure a man into spending more. There was not a trick Madame Chambon missed and even though the gentlemen complained, they still tipped handsomely for their drinks as a prelude to the other pleasures they’d come to enjoy.
“I’m sorry you had to entertain Lord Harkom,” Faith said, turning in a slow circle to ensure she’d not missed anything that could be improved upon. How different from the usual routine of dressing merely in order to bring a little learning to two little boys at the Heathcotes.
“There’s far worse than him, but he isn’t a…generous lover.” Charity shrugged. “Still, he didn’t hurt me as he’s hurt some of the other girls. Maybe he wasn’t as drunk—though he was drunk enough to be surprisingly free with his speech. Oh Faith, I hope I haven’t done wrong in telling you something which now has the potential to see you in grave danger. I know I can’t talk you out of this, but you will be careful, won’t you? Don’t let him…” Her words trailed off as if she didn’t know what to say, ending finally, “You’ve never been one of us. I can’t bear to think of you being used like a common”
“Don’t say it!” Faith turned upon her almost angrily. “You do what you have to do to save yourself from starving in the gutter. What man wouldn’t do the same if the roles were reversed and women ruled the world?” Putting a hand to her forehead, she willed herself to be calm. She needed a clear head, and her corset was decidedly constricting when it came to growing emotional.
Drawing back her shoulders, she said quietly, “I will be careful. I have planned this well. I will never give myself to a man I do not love, and I would rather die than allow Lord Harkom to take that which I would only willingly give.” She tapped the pendant around her neck. Only upon closer examination was it revealed to be a small silver vial, hollowed out with a tiny stopper. “When Lord Harkom invites me to drink champagne, half the contents in this will see him lose consciousness, while I help myself to the information I’m sure he can’t help boasting about.”
“But Faith, that is far too dangerous! If he catches you, he’ll punish you dreadfully!” Charity looked like she was going to cry. “He’ll torture you! He did that to Anastasia, and it took her three weeks before her face was healed. Imagine what he’ll do to you!”
Coldly, Faith said, “I won’t let him. The entire contents of this vial are enough to kill someone my size. I’m prepared to take my chances, Charity.” She smiled suddenly. “But I won’t fail. I won’t let Lord Hark
om be the cause of my destruction for a second time.”
She did not feel so bold by the time she was admitted to Mistress Kate’s dancing rooms later that evening. Faith had it on good authority that Lord Harkom was going to be in attendance, having spoken to the ageing courtesan earlier in the afternoon to ensure she’d be received.
Once she’d made it clear that she was not here to poach any of Mistress Kate’s long-term, favoured Cyprians, there’d been no opposition.
“Lord Harkom, is it? You’re welcome to him,” Mistress Kate had said with a curl of her lip. “I should pay you for the service you’ll be rendering me this evening if you take him off my hands.”
Her words did nothing to increase Faith’s enthusiasm in her venture, though it did firm her resolve. Lord Harkom was a man who’d traded with impunity on his lineage for far too long. The fact that Faith intended ruining his reputation in a professional rather than private capacity gave her far greater satisfaction.
Now, Faith arranged herself on a chaise longue beneath a window in one of the smaller reception rooms, with the agreement that Mistress Kate would ensure that Lord Harkom came upon her at some stage during the evening.
A chance meeting would be far more effective to her plan than otherwise.
Of course, she’d also be vulnerable to other visitors, but she’d have to navigate those complications as they arose.
The room was thick was the scent of perfume and powder, and overwarm from the fire and the many people who occupied it. Faith gazed around her and wondered at the fact that Mistress Kate’s had remained so popular for so long. It had been established by Kate in her youth, but even as she’d aged, she’d retained the loyalty of the many gentlemen she’d pleased during her career while ensuring an eager turnover of girls.
No, not eager. What girl would wish for a life so uncertain?
Nervously, Faith ran her finger around her low neckline. Lord, but it was difficult to play a role so alien to her natural inclination, but she had no choice if she were to achieve anything of value in her short, worthless life.
The room was growing even warmer as it filled with more perfumed, heated bodies. Behind her fan, Faith recognised several regulars from Madame Chambon’s. But they were men she’d only seen from afar. Other than the night she’d been photographed, she’d never been on display. And surely a grainy photograph in a newspaper, and a painting that had briefly titillated society a year ago, would not reveal her tonight.
Only Lord Harkom would recognise her sufficiently to stop.
But, of course, the effort to which she’d gone to shore up her natural assets attracted the attention of those on the prowl. And the fact that Faith was here, in this room, proclaimed her as the whore she’d sworn she’d never be.
Nor would she, though she inclined her head and answered demurely when a couple of young blades on the town lurched up to her.
“What blessed charms has Mistress Kate served up to us tonight,” declared the darker one, swaying dangerously as he looked from Faith to his friend. “Why, perhaps you’d care to dance, miss. The orchestra has just tuned up, don’t you hear?”
“I like my men to be steadier on their feet, though you are very kind, sir.” Faith simpered at him from over her fan. “And taller. Yes, I like my men to be taller. And even darker than you.”
The gentleman pushed back his shoulders. “Why, you do have a discerning eye, don’t you?” He sounded aggrieved. “Perhaps you never do get up and dance if you set your standards so high.”
Faith made a pretence of sighing deeply. “I’ve spent many an evening languishing here,” she said. “Disappointed. Waiting.” She fluttered her eyes and raised them to the ceiling and was in the process of returning her gaze to the disaffected young man before her, when she beheld the very reason she was here.
And her heart did a frantic lurch to the top of her ribcage before settling like a stone.
“For a gentleman like me,” supplied Lord Harkom, easing himself into her orbit and elbowing Faith’s original admirer and his friend out of the way. For a long moment, he stared at her; a calculating gleam in his eye.
As if he’d run her to ground.
Faith turned her head, a frisson of fear making her mouth tremble.
All to the good. Let him see her fear. It would make him believe all the more powerfully in his mastery over her. He’d think he’d caught her by surprise.
He took a step closer. “Well, well, well,” he murmured. “Miss Faith Montague. Who would have thought to find you…here.”
Faith raised one shoulder as if in defiance and part self-protectiveness. She saw his gaze brush over her bare flesh, and the desire leap and dance in his coal-black eyes.
Oh God, she did not want to do this. And yet, she had to go through with it. Had to make him believe in her fear, her reluctance. It would stoke the abusing monster within him to act.
“Lord Harkom.” Her tone sounded husky and inviting. She swallowed. “Good evening.” What else could she say?
He settled himself beside her, his thigh pressing against hers on the love seat as he called to a waiter to bring them both brandy.
She took the cut-glass tumbler she was offered without a word, but was forced to answer when he remarked, “It’s been some time since we last met. Since you reneged on the agreement we had, in fact. I wondered where you’d gone. Yes, I’ve often wondered that.” He looked at her enquiringly, a note of menace in his tone.
“I found a friend who was good to me. Very good to me.” She took a sip of her brandy and allowed a note of sorrow to creep into her voice while her eyes rose heavenward. “Sadly, all good things come to an end.”
“So, you were quick to find a replacement for young Westaway. And me. Glad to know you weren’t brokenhearted all this time. But you’re at a loose end tonight, I can see.” He stood and put his hand on her shoulder, his fingers playing with the light fabric that edged her shoulder strap. Faith shivered, and he ran his hand down her arm and gently gripped her elbow, as if feeling its smoothness, its composition.
“Ah Faith, you and I have some unfinished business, don’t we?” With both hands on her shoulders, he drew her up. The familiar notes of leather and sandalwood filled her senses. She’d been too close to the smell of him before. “Come home with me and I’ll show you I’m not the man you thought you feared.”
Faith stared up at him and shook her head. “I don’t want to go home with you, Lord Harkom,” she murmured. “You can offer me nothing that I want.”
His lordship glanced about the room. “You think there’s someone here who can? Perhaps those two striplings who were courting you earlier?” Drawing her closer, he dipped his head and whispered, “I’m a rich and powerful man, and I think you know that I want you. Let bygones be bygones and I’ll show you how kind and…generous I can be.”
Faith stood her ground. “No, Lord Harkom.” She shook her head. “The first time I met you, you tried to take what I was unwilling to give. You would not take no for an answer.”
“A mere misunderstanding.” He gave a gentle laugh. “Your procuress sanctioned more than a little persuasion to break you in. Encouraged it, in fact, since she said you’d never learn what you had to do otherwise.”
“You were not gentle with me, Lord Harkom.” Faith’s trembling was real. “I have been fortunate to have enjoyed the protection of a man who was nothing but kind.”
“It was not kind to leave you, Faith.” Lord Harkom encompassed their surroundings with a sweep of his arm.
“He died unexpectedly, Lord Harkom. And left me with but a little provision. Not enough to tide me into my old age. I need to shore up my future while I can, while I am young and still”
“Beautiful.” He dipped his head to breathe in the scent of her hair and murmured it again. “So beautiful, Faith, and you have taught me the lesson of valuing that which I want so very much.” Lightly, he placed both hands on her bare shoulders. “See how gentle I can be when it’s worth my while? I want
you, Faith. Not just for tonight. Come home with me, and I promise that I will treat you like a precious China doll.”
Faith took a faltering step, her reluctance so from the heart, but at the same time furthering her purpose. Before they’d reached the doorway, she stopped. “You must woo me, take it slowly, treat me like a lady, if you are to enjoy me beyond tonight. If you think tonight is for settling old scores or teaching me a lesson, then that will not further your interests, Lord Harkom.”
“My, my, Faith. You’ve learned how to negotiate and dish out threats. How very sweet.” He laughed. “And intriguing.”
“So, you promise you will deal with me kindly? Yes? Then I shall tell Mistress Kate who I am going with tonight. That will be my insurance, Lord Harkom.”
She let him lead her through the throng, to stop to say a word to Mistress Kate, then out of the doors and into the street.
“Mind the step, Faith. I wonder if my offer of brandy was such a good idea. You want all your wits about you if you’re to enjoy what I have in store for you.”
“I hope you’re not accusing me of overindulgence, my lord.” Faith looked up at Lord Harkom, blinking as if to clear her head. “And I’m not sure I want what you have in store for me.”
“Yet you’re coming with me, aren’t you, Faith?” He flagged down a hackney carriage and helped her in. “All the way to my beautiful home where I can make you feel like the princess you are. The princess I could make you. You are intrigued, aren’t you? You want to know what kind of man I really am?”
Faith settled herself into the dark interior, sighing deeply as she dropped her head onto Lord Harkom’s shoulder. At least feigning sleep for a few minutes would give her time to think and dispense with the need for conversation.
When the hackney halted outside his townhouse, she straightened, rubbing her eyes as she stared at him in the light of the gas lamp on the pavement.
Keeping Faith Page 25
