Love's Harbinger (22 page)

She took it from his fingers and threw it into the grate with the ring. “There, let that foolish girl burn up, as she deserves to,” she said with satisfaction.

Guy was startled at first, then an approving smile glowed. “That foolish girl has spent a few nights in my bedchamber. Can you recommend someone to replace her?”

She gave him a flustered smile. It caused a leap of hope to enter his feline eyes and a new ardor to enter his speech. “Faith, I love you to distraction. I know I’ve behaved idiotically. I know you’re worlds too good for me. Your family will despise me. Everyone will think I’m only trying to scramble up the social ladder, making a hypocrisy of my egalitarianism, and I don’t give a damn. I have to know. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and was pulled into his arms for a very tigerish mauling. His lips assaulted hers ferociously, and like any proper lady in love, she returned every assault.

He only stopped kissing her lips to kiss the bruise on her neck, sending a shudder through her body, and to utter recriminations on his boorish behavior.

She didn’t answer. His ardent words and hot lips overrode mere rational thought. She only knew she had managed, despite her own folly, to capture the love of a man who was far too good for her. Nothing else mattered. Not Thomas Vane, not a bruise on the neck. Only this rapturous joy.

“I must learn to control my temper. And I shall,” he said firmly. “You have a softening effect on me. I never suppressed a good story before, Faith.”

“I like your stern ways, Guy. Don’t let the
Harbinger
sink into being just another news sheet. And speaking of the
Harbinger
, shouldn’t Mam’selle Ondit be on hand for the Struthers’ announcement?”

“The big story in Mam’selle’s next column, my sweet, is that Lord Westmore regretfully announces the betrothal of his daughter to Mr. D. If he still acknowledges you as his daughter at all. Will he cut up terribly stiff?”

She was giddy with happiness. “Oh, no, he’ll be vastly relieved to be rid of me. Hope is coming on the market next season, you must know, and the law of supply and demand decrees that two Mordains would lower the value.”

“There still wouldn’t be a
parti
in town good enough for you,” he said ardently.

Lady Lynne, curious to discover where her charge had disappeared to, came along the hall peering into rooms for her. When she discovered Faith behaving with such marvelous impropriety, she softly closed the door and went loping after Mr. Fletcher. Or failing to receive any interest on his part, the chantilly creams looked divine. 

Copyright ©1987 by Joan Smith

Originally published by Fawcett Crest in July, 1987

Electronically published in 2004 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.