Keeping Faith (Fair Cyprians of London 3)

Faith didn’t know what to say to this. She remembered that night as if it were written in indelible ink upon her brain. Mrs Gedge had come upon Faith picking up Miss Constancia’s bracelet in the young lady’s bedchamber and gazing at it with indecision. Miss Constancia had promised it to fifteen-year-old Faith in a hurried whisper if Faith could help her gain admittance to a young man’s bedchamber. There had been several young men staying at the house for that particular Friday to Saturday. Faith had not remembered seeing Mr Westaway, for she surely would have remembered him.

Now, Mrs Gedge was declaring, not only that Mr Westaway had once been a faithless lover to her daughter, but that Mr Westaway had all but forced the young woman’s hand in taking her own life.

“Why did you not tell me this before you instructed me on what I must do with regard to Mr Westaway?” she asked.

“I felt that if you held him in such aversion, the naturally occurring mutual interest might be inhibited. You knew, of course, that he must be sacrificed, and you were a willing accomplice in this.”

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.”