Page 36 of Never a Proper Lady

I write with disconcerting information that I haven’t shared previously. I take great care to preserve the identities of those who entrust girls to my care. However, given the circumstances and my growing unease, I must divulge confidential facts.

A man named John Smith brought you to Haven House. After a few months, he ceased paying the fees for your care and essentially disappeared. I was unable to ever contact him again. From the outset, I had a niggling suspicion that something wasn’t as it ought to be and contacted a detective in London about my concerns, even paying him a retainer. After our initial exchange, I never heard from him and presumed he found no evidence of foul play.

However, I recently received correspondence from Detective Cyril Dankworth saying he found a file about your case that had been misplaced twenty years ago. That same week, a letter arrived from a Mr. Aloysius Petheringham, claiming to be a relative of yours.

I do not believe the timing is coincidental.

We must speak at length and soon. I feel it is rather urgent. In the meanwhile, do not trust anyone—not even Mr. Petheringham.

~Mrs. Hester Shepherd, in an urgent missive to Miss Faith Roth

Dovetonwick Court drawing room

After dinner

Constantine intended to take the air as much for his sake as Faith’s. A lengthy walk was in order too, all the while staying visible from the house to prevent tattle. Someone took to the rosewood pianoforte, and a handful of guests meandered near to listen or sing along.

With Faith on his arm, he drew abreast of his mother, dazzling this evening in a teal and gold gown as she presided over her domain.

“Mother, we are going to stroll in the gardens.”

He slid Faith a sideways glance, taking in her pallor and the brackets framing her pretty mouth that turned upward in a valiant smile. She was brave and possessed fortitude, but he already knew that about her.

He bathed the room with a meaningful glance, taking satisfaction when guests caught staring swiftly averted their attention. “Faith and I would both benefit from a spot of fresh air.”

And a break from the pointed stares and discourteous whispers.

Earlier, he’d overheard Lord and Lady Hollister, unaware he stood behind them, as Faith had walked past with Edyth and Charlotte. With a superior sniff, her ladyship had declared to her husband, “That gel will never be a proper lady.”

It had taken all his self-restraint not to remind the haughty dame that her origins were less than prestigious.

By thunder, Constantine hadn’t expected such overt censure of his selection of a bride.

Not that Faith was his choice, but the guests presuming to take offense didn’t know that. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was the ducal heir, blast it, and was expected to marry a high-ranking woman.

How dare they object?

Because Faith wasn’t a blueblood?

A spoiled, indulged and pampered, selfish aristocrat?

Hold there, old man. Your sisters aren’t any of those things.

That was true.

How did anyone besides the immediate family and Harvey know Faith’s origins anyway?

Mayhap they didn’t. Perhaps, Constantine was jumping to conclusions, or his guilt over the subterfuge made him suspicious and paranoid. Qualities he disliked in others and positively loathed in himself.

To be fair, he and Faith had received several sincere felicitations as well.

She’d responded with reserved graciousness.

How well Constantine knew how much she despised the artifice. His forearm had suffered her nails digging into the flesh several times while she courteously responded. As his coat and shirt protected his flesh, no actual damage had been inflicted.

The warm congratulations made Constantine’s conscience wince with guilt and placed him squarely in the category of cad and bounder. Deception wasn’t something he enjoyed.

Unlike Cedric—if his brother truly was a covert operative—Constantine would’ve made a lousy spy. All that subterfuge and lying were beyond him. Even as a child, he’d been a horrid liar and always confessed his misdeeds. It took a special person to live a life of deceit for a righteous cause.