Faith (18 page)

Trevor cleared his throat softly. “Grace, finish your breakfast. We need to get moving so we can make it to Rothmere before nightfall.”

Reluctantly, Grace turned to her husband. “Oh, I’ve finished.” She glanced back toward the innkeeper and his wife, then leaned toward her husband and whispered, “How’d you like to be married to her?”

The earl smiled. “She seems to have a fine set of values. And I’ll bet she doesn’t linger over her breakfast when she is on a tight traveling schedule.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Grace laughed. “Oh, all right. Let’s go.” Trevor paid the harassed innkeeper for their meals and the room and escorted his wife out to their waiting coach.

A few moments after they left, Gareth woke with a start and glanced toward the bed. Faith was sleeping peacefully. Steeling himself for the adorable confusion he knew he’d see in her eyes when he woke her up, he stood, walked over to the bed, and reached for her shoulder. Just before he touched her, he stopped.

She looked so heart-wrenchingly beautiful. So innocent. Unable to stop himself, he bent and pressed his lips to her forehead, giving her a soft, stolen kiss. And then, angry with himself for that display of weakness, he roughly shook her awake.

Twenty-eight

I
’ll ask you one last time. Where is my sister?” Grace’s voice echoed through the foyer as she loudly repeated herself to the insolent butler.

Desmond, who had only just arrived from London the evening before, looked affronted. “You needn’t shriek, my lady. As I’ve already told you, the marquess and marchioness are out.”

Grace threw up her hands in exasperation and looked at her husband for help. Trevor leaned against the curved railing of the sweeping staircase, grinning widely. “You realize, of course, that I’m quite enjoying this.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“It’s high time,” he continued, “that you have a small dose of what I had to endure from that wretched butler your aunt employs.”

Grace gave him an overly sweet smile. “Just last week, Aunt Cleo and I were trying to decide what we should do with Greaves, my lord. I was telling her we had a place for him at the Willows.” Her eyes widened innocently. “Truly, it would be a shame to hurt his feelings by taking away the joy he finds in continuing his service to our family, especially in the last, golden years of his life.”

“I’ve done my duty by your aunt’s servants and then some, young lady. I’m waiting for Mercy to grow up and snag Sebastian. Greaves would be a wedding present fit for a duke.”

Grace laughed merrily at the thought, quite forgetting her impatience with Desmond, who stood nearby with a baffled look on his dignified face. The couple, who had arrived unannounced, were behaving entirely oddly, not quite like any married couple he’d ever seen. They actually seemed to enjoy one another’s company. He cleared his throat to remind them of his presence.

Her mood lightened, Grace turned back to try another inquiry into the location of her sister and brother-in-law, but stopped when she heard trotting hoofbeats crossing in front of the house. She ran to the door and opened it just in time to see Faith and Gareth disappearing in the direction of the stables. Riding one horse and leading another. She barely managed to stifle a gasp of horrified laughter.

Somewhat mollified, she smiled at Desmond. “Would you please ask the housekeeper to prepare a room for us?” When the butler gave her a blank look, she patiently repeated the question, but in a much louder voice.

“My lady,” said Desmond. “For the
second
time, it is both unnecessary and unbecoming for a woman of your station to yell like that.”

Trevor snorted.

Grace opened her mouth to retort, but the butler was spared her wrath by the entrance of a plump, pleasant-looking older lady who, having overheard Grace’s request, came bustling into the foyer to rescue the unexpected guests from the older man. “My lord,” she said to Trevor, and bobbed him a little curtsy. She turned to Grace and did the same, “My lady. I’m Mrs. MacAvoy, the housekeeper. Perhaps you’d like to enjoy a drink in the library while your rooms are being prepared? I’m told the marquess and marchioness have just arrived. You will be announced as soon as they’ve come in and cleaned up a bit.”

Before Grace could reply, Trevor smoothly stepped in and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’d enjoy precisely that, thank you.” He gave his wife a dampening look. For once she followed his lead, although the mutinous expression in her blue eyes did not escape him.

Mrs. MacAvoy nodded and smiled. “Follow me, please.”

Faith lifted her head and sniffed the air as they rode into the paddock. “Something is burning, my lord.”

“Burned,” he replied curtly.

She looked around, but all appeared intact. “What burned, please?”

He watched her closely. “A couple of the outbuildings, late last night.”

“That’s terrible. Nobody was hurt?” Her tone was genuinely concerned.

Gareth looked at her steadily for a long moment and silently congratulated himself on his earlier assessment of her innocence with regard to the fires. “Nobody was hurt, and the damage was minimal.” He swung his leg over the back of his horse and stepped down.

“I am glad,” she returned softly. A stable hand arrived and took Calypso’s reins, then waited as Gareth helped Faith dismount. She slid down, securely supported by his strong hands around her waist, which assisted her lightly and safely to the ground. When they fell away without lingering, she felt a momentary sense of loss.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the pair as they started toward the house. Faith cast wildly about in her mind for something to say, then wisely decided to remain quiet. Instead, she thought again about the fires Gareth had mentioned. Something bothered her about the situation, but she couldn’t quite figure it out. It was only when they’d nearly reached the front door that she realized what it was.

She sucked in her breath with an angry little hiss and grabbed his arm. “You thought I started those fires before I left, didn’t you?”

He stopped and looked at her, his brow raised. “It occurred to me.”

She glared at him for another moment and turned away without speaking, torn between anger and sadness. Without a backward glance, she crossed the wide terrace, went inside, and shut the door behind her.

After a moment, Gareth followed, entering the house in time to see her disappear into the hallway at the top of the stairs. He stopped a moment, trying to decide if he should follow her or not, shook his head, and went to the library. A drink first—then they would talk.

He strode into the room and headed straight for the well-stocked sideboard, automatically reaching for the bottle of port he particularly favored. He was just setting the decanter down when he heard a rustling sound. “Faith, if you could just give me a few moments, I’ll—” The rest of what he intended to say was lost at the sight of the Earl and Countess of Huntwick. “What are
you
doing here?” He scowled at the additional and unwanted complication.

Trevor grinned at his wife. “You know, my dear, I don’t think we’re terribly welcome,” he said.

Grace ignored him and stepped forward. “Where’s Faith?”

Gareth stared at the small woman who’d already caused so much turmoil in his short marriage. “I’m not sure I’m inclined to allow her to see you.”

Recalling the agreement she’d wrung from him on his wedding day, Grace gave her husband’s friend a rueful smile. “I can’t say I blame you, my lord. Any possibility you might forgive me?”

Gareth glanced at Trevor, who stood a bit behind Grace, watching. He wondered how much his friend knew about the promise he’d made, wondered even more what Grace knew about her sister’s lover. He lifted his glass of port to his lips and took a sip. “Ask one of the footmen to show you to her chamber.” His face remained expressionless, closed and hard.

“Thank you,” she said softly, sent her husband a quick smile, and left the room.

Gareth nodded toward the empty glass in Trevor’s hand. “Another? Since you seem to have helped yourself.”

Trevor nodded, smiling, and handed it over. “You look positively grim.”

“Are all women this much trouble, or is it a trait peculiar to the Ackerly females?” Gareth grimaced. “I don’t remember having so much difficulty in the past.”

“As it turns out, the benefits end up far outweighing the disadvantages.” The earl gave the marquess a long, slow grin. “Although, in your case, I understand you had to wait a few days for the benefits.”

Well. That answered one question. “I’m still waiting.”

Trevor stopped in the act of bringing the glass to his lips and gave his friend an incredulous look over the rim. “I didn’t think she’d take that silly promise my wife strangled out of you this far!”

“There have been…hmm…” Gareth thought a moment, reaching for the best possible word to sum up the days since his wedding. “Complications.”

“Anything you’d care to discuss?”

Gareth looked down and swirled the liquid in his glass, then strolled to the desk and set it down. He picked up the silver case that held his cheroots and sent a questioning glance at Trevor, who shook his head. After lighting one for himself, he inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out into the room. “Faith has a lover.”

Of all the problems Trevor might have imagined,
this
had never occurred to him. It was beyond the scope of his belief. “You must be mistaken.”

“I wish I were.”

“She’s admitted it?”

Gareth shook his head. “I haven’t confronted her, but the evidence is damning, and I’ve all but caught them together.”

Trevor still shook his head. “Where would she find a lover out here? It doesn’t make sense.”

“I think he followed us here from London.” Gareth outlined briefly all that he knew, from the footprints outside the caretaker’s cottage to the makeshift camp in the woods, and finally to the vandalism and double set of prints in the greenhouse. “When I put all of that together, it finally made sense that she wouldn’t want to consummate our marriage. She isn’t a virgin.”

Trevor looked up swiftly, anger sparking in his eyes. “You aren’t suggesting my wife knew about this and conspired with Faith?” His voice was low, dangerous.

Gareth shrugged. “I’m not suggesting anything. I intended to talk to Faith about it, to see where we would go from here. Last night, after finding the evidence in the greenhouse, I was much too angry to deal with it, so I locked Faith in her room. She escaped and ran away. Took me all night to track her down and bring her back.”

Trevor relaxed and chuckled a little. “So that’s why your man could only offer Grace the information that her sister was ‘out.’ He had no idea where you were.”

Gareth took another sip of the port and nodded. “And now you’re here. And Faith is talking to Grace.”

Faith stood before the wardrobe with her arms crossed, contemplating what she should pack and what would remain here. Hopefully, Gareth would send the balance of her belongings to Pelthamshire, where she intended to go and seek an annulment. She whirled around at the sound of the door opening and cried out happily when she saw her sister’s head appear.

“Grace! What in the world? When did you get here?”

Grace pushed the door completely open and ran to embrace her sister. “I insisted on coming, and Trevor finally agreed, so we arrived this afternoon.” She took a step back and frowned, keeping both of Faith’s hands clasped in hers. “You’ve lost weight.”

Faith waved a hand. “Not too terribly much. I was ill right after we arrived, but Gareth took very good care of me.”

Her sister narrowed her eyes shrewdly. “And is he still taking good care of you?”

Faith pressed her lips together, considering a moment, and sighed. Her sister would worm the story out of her one way or another. “I don’t know, Grace. Things are a bit mixed up.”

“I got that feeling from the little Gareth said in the library.” Her face sobered. “Tell me what has happened.”

“I’m not sure where to start, Grace. Honestly, I begin to wonder if he isn’t quite mad.” And Faith began explaining everything that had happened, from the day of their wedding until now. Grace kept quiet, nodding at some parts and smiling at others, until Faith told her of Gareth’s odd mood swings, beginning with the tour of Rothmere.

“It wasn’t that I was uninterested,” she added miserably. “The idea that I’d be bearing his children just distracted me, you see.”

“You have to try talking to him,” advised Grace, her eyes earnest. “The worst thing that can happen is for either of you to allow things to go unsaid, to close up and not communicate your feelings and worries to each other.”

Faith looked away. She walked to a brocade-covered bench at the end of the bed and sat down, drawing her knees up beneath her dressing gown and wrapping her arms around them.

Grace crossed her arms. “What haven’t you told me?”

“I ran away last night.”

“You did what?”

Faith looked up swiftly, her expression defensive. “Well, he locked me in here and wouldn’t tell me why!”

“Good Lord!” Grace climbed up on the bed and stretched out on her stomach with her feet on the pillows. “Why do you think he did
that?
”

“I haven’t a clue, which is why I think he’s gone mad. So I sneaked out through his chamber, took a horse, and left.”

Grace stifled a giggle. “Oh, Faith. You didn’t really try to ride back on a horse, did you?”

“Well, how else was I going to get to London?” She looked indignant. “And I did just fine until I ran into a spiderweb.”

At that, Grace
did
laugh, but she sobered quickly. “Overreacting in such a way is so unlike you.” Grace propped her chin in her hands and regarded her sister steadily. “Don’t you think Gareth might think
you’ve
gone mad as well?”

“I don’t think he cares anymore. He found me and brought me back, didn’t say two words on the entire trip, and has quite dismissed me from his mind. Do you know he thought I set a couple outbuildings on fire last night to distract the household from my running away?”

Grace tilted her head, no longer surprised by the oddities of the story. “There’s too much missing information. Something has caused him to jump to some very harmful and inaccurate conclusions. These seem easy to correct. You need to talk to him.”

“No. I want to go home.”

“Talk first,” Grace urged.

Faith pressed her lips together, an obstinate look on her face. “I’ll talk to him, but only to tell him I want to go home.”

Grace crawled forward and leaned off the end of the bed to wrap her arms around her sister. “Promise me you’ll try to open up and
really
talk. If it doesn’t go well, Trevor and I will take you back to London with us. London will be better than wasting away in Pelthamshire. You’ll never get any peace there with the twins and Mercy nattering around you asking questions.

Faith smoothed an errant red curl from her sister’s face and leaned her temple against the top of Grace’s head. “I’ll try,” she murmured.

They enjoyed an early supper in the smaller, less-formal breakfast nook so that they weren’t spread, uncomfortably distant, along the long polished mahogany table in the dining room. Trevor and Grace carried the conversation, keeping it mostly light, bringing Gareth and Faith up to date on the happenings in London.