Keeping Faith (Fair Cyprians of London 3)

“I hoped you’d not be waylaid,” she said. “Or, at least, want to talk to me enough that you’d fob off everyone else.”

“No one else is important right now.” His eyes looked black and full of wanting. Turning, he plucked a full glass of champagne from a passing waiter and replaced Faith’s empty one. “Only you, Faith darling.” His low murmur was like melted chocolate, and it filled Faith with an inner glow.

“Tell me how important I am,” she whispered, taking a small sip of her drink and fixing him with a sly, challenging look over the rim of her glass. She’d angled herself so that she faced the window and her flirtatious manner would not be observed. They’d not have long to be alone together.

“I need you like the earth needs the rain, like the birds need the nectar, like…a blank canvas needs a story. You’re mine, Faith. My story, my sustenance, my inspiration.”

“Inspiration?” She cocked her head, loving his willingness to elaborate, conscious that too much longer alone together might be dangerous. But then, she’d been crucial to him carrying off the prize. People would understand their solidarity for now. They were a team.

They’d always be a team.

“You are good and pure and honest. That’s what inspires me. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”

“I’m sure you’ve met many women just as good and pure and honest.” That was true enough.

He shook his head. “You’re different. You are without guile. I love that about you. I look at you, and I see someone who would defend principle to the end.”

Faith held up her hand, uncomfortable now. “Crispin, it’s easy to believe the best when you’re—”

“In love?” He took her hand and

kissed the back of it before Faith pulled it back quickly. She tried to speak but he said, “You think I’ve had too much to drink perhaps? You’re afraid that people will observe us? Why? Because you’re afraid of the future? We are destined to be together, Faith. And we will be.”

“You sound confident. I hope you’re right.” Her heart felt very full, but also very heavy suddenly.

“We shall be married as soon as I can organise a special licence.” Now that she considered it, his eyes did seem unusually bright.

“A special licence?” she queried. Three weeks was the earliest they could be married in the usual way after having the banns put up in their respective parishes. For Faith, this was entirely impractical, so she was relieved Crispin had not even considered that idea.

“When I leave for Germany in two weeks, it will be with you as my wife.”

“But it would still be a secret?”

“Are you certain you don’t want your parents to attend? Not even one of your sisters?”

Faith shook her head. “They’ll petition you for money. Oh Crispin, you don’t know my family. They’re impoverished, and the only reason I was given a few weeks in London was because Papa had ideas I could snare a duke.”

“So, you think he’d be disappointed you snared only me?”

Faith coloured. “His excitement would be mortifying. If you love me, you won’t bring my family into it. Please, Crispin.”

“I do love you and I’m marrying you, not your family. You’re right; it would be best if my father knew nothing of it until time had passed and I’d cemented my reputation doing what’s required in Germany.”

“Ah, Mr Westaway, there you are! Lord Athlone is anxious to meet you. Miss Montague.” The new arrival offered Faith a cursory nod before drawing Crispin away, but not before Faith had recognised the curiosity and assessment in his eyes.

Of course, everyone would be wondering what Faith was to Crispin, and any more time spent alone in corners would have tongues wagging, which she could do without when it came to exciting the undesired curiosity of Crispin’s father, should it get back to him.

But in terms of reinforcing to Lady Vernon that Faith was making inroads into her task of winning Crispin’s heart for Mrs Gedge’s evil plans, it was ideal.

“Mr Westaway seemed reluctant to relinquish you in order to meet Lord Athlone.”

“He loves me.” Faith paused in the midst of pulling the pins from her hair and viewed Lady Vernon with interest in the reflection of the looking glass. “Madly, deeply, unreasonably.” She smiled. “I have him,” she added slowly. “Are you pleased? After all, you’ll get your money now.”

“My loyalty is towards Mrs Gedge. I was more concerned that her three-year investment in you should be adequately repaid. Her desire to see justice done through you is more important to me than the pin money I shall receive to compensate me for the dreary time I’ve had chaperoning you about the place.” Lady Vernon smoothed her black skirts over her knees. “You have to break his heart now, of course. That is, once you’ve proved beyond a doubt that you do have his heart.”

“A pile of letters. You didn’t guess, did you?” Faith hugged herself. She wanted to pretend ingenuousness. It would be her defence. Lady Vernon mustn’t know that Faith was secretly plotting to forgo her own payment in order to disappear from the country without trace.

Lady Vernon sent her a glance laced with suspicion. “And how will you break his heart? You never actually discussed that part, did you?”