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Looking over her head, a slight frown pulled his eyebrows together.
She followed his gaze.
Martin Kellinggrave, an older gentleman, and two young ladies stood at the top of the terrace steps.
“Your uncle, Ramona, and Tabitha, I presume?”
Faith sniffed another lily. They’d always been a favorite of hers.
“Indeed.” He extended his hand. “Come. I know a secluded garden that the guests don’t have access to. This time of evening, it should be lovely, if a bit shadowy.”
Cutting a glance at the mansion from beneath her lashes, Faith bit her lip.
She didn’t want to return to the house. Nor did she relish another encounter with Martin. But to venture to an area of the gardens alone with Constantine…
Don’t be a ninny. A goose. A twiddlepoop.
You’ve been alone with him dozens of times while working.
Yes, but that was before she became aware of him as a virile, attractive man.
Before close to one hundred people had been led to believe he would be her husband.
“Faith?”
Kindness crinkled his eyes at the corners. Hadn’t she believed him incapable of kindness mere days ago?
“I understand your reluctance. This farce is quite trying to you.”
For him too. He’d not wanted to participate any more than Faith had.
“I sometimes forget that. Forgive me.” He began lowering his hand.
His empathy was Faith’s undoing, and her resolve to remain impervious to Lord Constantine Kellinggrave floated away like dandelion down on a summer’s breeze.
Until arriving at Dovetonwick Court, they’d constantly butted heads, each mulishly determined to outwit the other and emerge the victor. Not exactly enemies, but certainly not friends, but this new role as an affianced couple thrust them into an awkward alliance.
“No. I want to.” Faith clasped his hand and stifled a gasp at the jolt the contact caused to zip up her arm, even through their gloves.
Likely just static electricity.
His grin widened, making him appear younger and more carefree than she’d ever seen him.
“This way.”
Running down the trail, her hand cocooned in his much larger palm and the buzz of the guests fading in the distance, Faith could almost believe there was something real and wonderful between this man and her. And for an instant, she longed for that elusive something she’d convinced herself she didn’t need or want.
Love.
Love of a man like Constantine.
A decent man. An honorable man.
Dependable and honest and kind.
Slightly eccentric, absent-minded, and obsessive too.
Even those traits that had aggravated her a couple of days ago had become endearing.
