“So, you won’t destroy it?”
“No.”
What good feeling she had felt for him dissipated.
“Then we shan’t discuss anything, Mr. Harris,” she said as the song finished. “Good bye.”
With that, she turned on her heel and hurried off the dance floor, worried he might try to follow her. Thankfully, she was alone by the time she reached her sisters, and for the next hour or so, she kept her distance from Logan.
Surely he could see why she was so desperate to have the piece of art destroyed. Not only was it evidence of a time in her life when she hadn’t any foresight, but it also reminded her of Donovan and the promise he broke to her. Of course Logan had no way of knowing about that. Faith had never explained it. But even without explaining it, he had to realize that for a lady of her status, having a nude painting of oneself out in the world would be dangerous. Even more so now because it wasn’t far away in Paris where she had no desire to go, but directly in the center of her current community.
Whenever she thought of it, she felt filled with shame. Not only because she had been so foolish as to trust Donovan with the painting’s creation in the first place, but also because his willingness to sell the painting served as proof that she hadn’t meant nearly as much to him as he had to her. It was a revelation that had stayed at the outer edges of her mind since she’d received his letter, but now that she focused on it, it was soblatantly obvious. Donovan had never truly loved her; worse, he had used her feelings for him against her by coaxing her into a sense of comfort to disrobe and pose for that damn portrait.
As the night’s celebration wore on, Faith’s mood sank further and further. Eventually, her sisters’ concerned stares and questions caused her to retreat from the ballroom, but she found the entire hall was packed with merrymakers.
Bitter, sad, and increasingly uncomfortable from the heat generated throughout the house due to the number of people, Faith thought to retreat to her room early, only to catch a glimpse of their cook and several footmen carrying a towering cake into the dining room. Knowing she would not be able to slip up the stairs without being noticed, she altered her route to Aunt Belle’s office instead hoping to find a reprieve there. But as she approached her aunt’s office, she suddenly saw Grace taking long, purposeful strides toward the room, entering it quickly and all but slamming the door behind her.
Then, from the opposite side of the hallway came Dr. Hall. He peered over the other guests, seemingly searching for someone with an apologetic look on his face, and Faith had the awful feeling that the doctor had crushed Grace’s hopes. Faith was sure Grace had locked the door to deter any followers. But then, Dr. Hall spotted Faith and started to walk toward her.
Oh no. Whatever had taken place between the doctor and Grace, Faith did not want to be a part of it. She turned, trying to leave, but was trapped by a pair of giggling ladies when she heard the doctor speak behind her.
“Miss Sharpe,” Dr. Hall said upon reaching her.
Faith winced before turning around.
“Dr. Hall,” Faith replied, making her voice icy.
The man’s brow dipped slightly at hearing her tone, but he seemed ready to ignore it.
“I was wondering if you had seen your sister come through this way?”
“Yes, I have,” Faith said, deciding to be purposefully obtuse. “Nearly every day.”
The doctor’s brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Apparently, she had confused him.
“Right,” he finally said after a moment. “And did you happen to see her this evening with Miss Fletcher?”
Faith frowned.
“I did not.”
“Well, if I could ask you a favor—”
“I’m terribly sorry, Dr. Hall, but I’m all out of favors tonight,” she said, noting the surprise in his eyes. “Good evening.”
Turning on her heel, Faith hurried away without looking back. She wasn’t sure what had transpired between him and her sister, but Faith wasn’t interested in hearing any apologies. She had long since tired of men apologizing to her sisters for this and that.
Deciding that she would find no peace inside, she concluded that some fresh air might be best for her. Borrowing one of the cloaks that hung from the rack in the corner of the foyer, she went outside and headed toward the walled garden that sat at the western side of Lismore Hall.
Making her way out the front doors and down the stone steps, Faith inhaled deeply as she walked around the front of the house, along the stone wall to an iron gate that separated the front landscape from the back. Unlatching the metal hook, she pushed the door open and passed through it.
There was a large pond covered in lily pads and beautiful white-and-pink blooms. Patches of lavender and mint had been planted together, giving the air a fresh, sweet scent. Along thewall that climbed the western border of Lismore grew a massive rose bush that produced hundreds of apple-sized white blooms.
It was an enchanting place, yet Faith could hardly appreciate it. She found an intricately carved stone bench that sat near the stream that fed the pond. Seating herself upon it, she brought her elbows to her knees and leaned forward with her chin in her hand.
As the muffled music from the ballroom mixed with the crickets and natterjack toads that croaked along the edge of the water, Faith sighed. If only she could figure out a way to get that painting. It was evident that she needed to take it back into her possession, but how? Perhaps she could sneak into his house and steal the blasted thing. But how could she leave with it? It was far too large for one person to carry.
As she was pondering the idea, a low, dark figure on all fours appeared to her right, scaring the life out of her.
