“I’m eager too,” he said softly. “But I won’t risk your reputation.”
“It’s my reputation to risk,” she pressed, trying to convince him. “Harris House is the only place possible.”
“Easy, love. We’ll figure it out. I’ll send word in a few days.”
She tilted her head.
“Are you leaving?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said, the hint of a smile on his lips. “I don’t think it would be wise for me to be in your presence anymore tonight, lest I make a fool of myself somehow.”
Faith smiled.
“No more a fool than I,” she said softly, turning to leave, but he gripped her hand again.
Faith gazed into his eyes and her stomach flipped. Logan was staring at her with such intensity that she almost felt guilty for her secret motive for agreeing to this ridiculous affair. Hebrought her hand up to his lips and pressed his mouth to her knuckles.
“You are no one’s fool, Faith. No one’s.”
She knew that he meant to buoy her spirits regarding Donovan, but Faith realized in that moment that he would never forgive her for what she was planning to do.
Logan left swiftly, with Jaco close behind him. Faith stood there for a few minutes once she was alone, contemplating everything that had just happened. Logan would undoubtedly hate her once she ruined that damn painting, but she couldn’t just let it continue to exist. Such tangible evidence of her relationship with Donovan, and his disregard for her, was too much for her to bear. It needed to be destroyed.
Didn’t it?
Faith’s head dropped into her hands. She was about to head back into the house when a far away voice suddenly called out.
“Faodail…”
Faith froze. Was someone beyond the garden wall? Was it Logan? Frowning, she turned around, searching the garden. There was no movement, no hint of another living person, and nothing moved to save the plants as a blustering wind swept through the grounds.
Still, she had the uncanny feeling that she wasn’t alone.
“Hello?” she called out, but no one answered. Confused, she called out again. “Hello? Is someone there?”
But there was no sound except the music coming from the house behind her. Perhaps it had been the wind? After another moment, she turned to head inside, repeating the bizarre word she thought she had heard.
Chapter Twelve
Whatever had possessedLogan to approach Faith with the irrational, ridiculous, and all together asinine idea of starting an affair, he did not know, but the words had dropped from his lips almost on their own accord. That she had accepted surprised him greatly, but now in the light of day, he was reconsidering his impetuous approach.
He never would have even considered such a thing if he hadn’t been certain that Faith and Donovan had been lovers. To be sure, he had no concrete evidence that such had been the case, but it was hard to imagine that anyone could be in Faith’s presence and not be taken in by her. Particularly if she had been disrobed. Between her fiery back talk, her vast knowledge of art, and her overall charismatic persona, Logan was positive no man could resist her charms.
And if she had been willing to take one man for a lover, she might be willing to agree to another.
As, indeed, she had.
Though he was astounded that she had accepted his offer, part of him was put out by the idea that Faith had been with someone else. Even though it cleared the path for them to have an affair now, it still fired his jealousy. But perhaps he was being too idealistic about it. If she were innocent, there would be no way to have her without marriage, and marriage wasn’t an option for Logan. Not since his return from the war.
The war. Logan hadn’t been comfortable laying with a woman since before his time in Burma. It had been a nagging issue when he’d returned, one that he had tried to deal with in Glasgow whenever he visited. But it wasn’t that he couldn’t perform. On the contrary, he could more than satisfy any partner’s needs, but the whole ordeal was done rather coldly on his part. It was a business transaction to be done as efficiently as possible, and the ladies at Madame McHenry’s brothel were always capable, but the pleasure of the act was lost to him.
Still, it was Logan’s preference to dally with professional women versus the country lasses of Glencoe, such as the barmaid at the Stone and Stag Pub or a number of farmers’ daughters who always tried to catch his attention whenever he was around. At least with a professional, he need not fear finding himself caught in some sort of dire situation.
Which, of course, made his dealing with Faith all the more hypocritical. She wasn’t a prostitute nor a carefree country girl. She was a lady, the granddaughter of an earl, and while a wicked part of him was aroused by the idea of laying with a woman so high born, he felt at odds with himself over his reasonings.
He was very much enticed by the idea that Faith wasn’t as perfect or virtuous as she had always appeared to be. To take part in a secret affair with a woman who had been so dismissive of him at first was tantalizing, to say the least. Which is why he could not stop thinking about the letter he received from her the afternoon following Lady Belle’s party.
Lismore Hunt Lodge. Tomorrow at noon.
