“It was all very heroic to watch,” Arabella said, bouncing on her toes as she faced Faith. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes,” she answered, giving Arabella a half smile. “Thank you.”
“Well, I will come to check on you in the next day or so. At the very least, we’ll be at Lismore Hall in a week’s time.”
“We will?” Logan asked, confused.
“Yes,” Arabella said, holding up an invitation. “Mrs. MacKinnon has invited us to Lady Belle’s birthday celebration. But it’s a surprise, so you mustn’t tell her about it.”
“Ah. Well, we will see you all then. Come, Arabella,” Logan said, taking his sister by the elbow and escorting her away from the Sharpe sisters as quickly as possible.
Arabella glanced back over her shoulder as they hurried down the street.
“Why did we leave so abruptly?” she asked, but Logan didn’t reply.
To answer her truthfully would be a mistake, particularly since he didn’t quite understand it himself, but the longer he was in Faith’s presence, the harder it was to leave, and if he didn’t do so quickly, he feared he might never do so at all.
Chapter Ten
The morning ofBelle’s surprise party was difficult, particularly because it had fallen on Faith to keep her aged aunt distracted. At the same time, the rest of the house made preparations for the evening celebrations. Why they had decided on a surprise party, Faith did not know, but she was hard-pressed to keep Belle occupied in her office.
Ever flanked by her faithful manservant, Andrews, Aunt Belle was in a fiery mood. Somehow, all her correspondence from the day before had gone missing before it could be sent out, and she was forced to rewrite those letters on top of the ones she had intended to write and send out today, causing her to be ornery.
“What lummox misplaced my letters?” she muttered as she scribbled frantically along a sheet of paper. “Disgraceful.”
“I’m sure they’ll show up, Aunt Belle,” Faith said from the settee. Her legs were curled beneath her body as she tried again to read a paragraph of the art book in her hands. “I wouldn’t fret about it.”
“Do I appear as though I’m fretting, my dear?” her aunt asked, perturbed. “What I am, is angry. What sort of person misplaces letters? And what’s worse, my own staff can’t point the finger at the correct culprit, which means they conspire against me.”
Faith rolled her eyes.
“That’s a stretch, even for you, Aunt Belle.”
“Do not try to argue. I’ve never been so outraged in my entire life.”
Faith closed the book, giving up her reading attempts, and stood up.
“Perhaps Andrews misplaced them?” Faith said teasingly, trying to get the man to smile, but he didn’t.
Andrews rarely smiled, and he seldom spoke.
“Nonsense,” Aunt Belle said, waving her hand. “If there is one person in this household I trust more than Andrews, I do not know them.”
The slightest twitches pulled at the corner of Andrews’s drawn mouth, and Faith smirked. If Andrews was dedicated to Belle, then the feelings were mutual.
But just then, Belle stood.
“I’ll find them. I’ve no time to rewrite all my letters. I’ll be here until dusk.”
Faith turned, looking at the porcelain clock that sat on the mantel. It was already four o’clock. She only needed to keep Aunt Belle busy for another hour before the halls would be cleared, and she could escort her to her bedroom to dress for dinner. Only when Faith did that would she suggest a far fancier evening dress than usual and would goad her into wearing her finest gown, which was being pressed at that very moment.
“Ah, Aunt Belle,” she said quickly, hoping to distract her. “Can I ask you something?”
“Walk and speak, my dear. I’ve already wasted half the day,” the old woman said as she crossed the room.
Her recovery from her ailments the previous year had been astonishing, and she was able to move much quicker now than before. Determined to keep her in this room, Faith opened her mouth and let the first thing that came to mind fall out.
“What was it like being King George’s mistress?”
