Page 47 of Never a Proper Lady

What would those friends say to learn he was involved in a fake betrothal?

“Hmm, I might very well consider it.” Leo slid Constantine a teasing glance. “Too bad the only woman who might pass muster is already spoken for. It wouldn’t do for me to steal my little brother’s affianced. Imagine that scandal!”

Unfamiliar jealousy spiraled around Constantine’s middle, but he tamped down the ugly emotion. This was his brother, for God’s sake. No woman would ever come between them. Besides, Leo but jested.

“Trust me when I say that is not a path you want to venture down, Leo. I rue the day I met the mulish, opinionated termagant.”

“Termagant, you say? Miss Roth seemed the epitome of a mild-mannered, temperate, and decorous young woman.” Hilarity leeched into Leo’s voice. “I think though doth protest too much, brother.”

Constantine snorted. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew her.”

He should have left off insulting Faith there. She didn’t deserve his disdain nor being besmirched to Leo, but some unnameable devil urged Constantine onward.

“Faith Roth has been a constant, irritating thorn in my backside, and I have been trying to rid myself of her since I hired her. Then as bad luck would have it, I must now act the lovesick fool and pretend she is my betrothed.”

A quickly stifled but unmistakable gasp filtered from behind the draperies.

“Who’s there?” Leopold set his glass down before striding across the room and yanking back the burgundy brocade panel.

Devil take it.

Faith stood there, one hand pressed to her chest and the other to her mouth. Pale as cream, she trembled slightly like a frightened butterfly. But it was her big wounded brown eyes staring across the room at Constantine that stabbed him as sharply and deeply as a blade to his heart.

God, what have I done?

He hadn't meant a word of it.

Not a single syllable.

He’d simply wanted to discourage Leo’s budding interest and, even more, his own growing fascination. She was not for him. They were too different and rubbed each other the wrong way.

Not when you kissed her.

Faith slowly lowered her hands, balling them into fists. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, humiliation fairly oozing from her. Her composure under the circumstances was estimable.

She spared Leopold an apologetic glance.

Her voice a mere wisp of sound, she said, “I dashed in here to hide. I thought I saw someone I knew who would know I wasn’t betrothed. I honestly didn’t mean to intrude or eavesdrop.”

Who did she know?

Why hide from them?

“I don’t doubt it.” Leo angled his head, sadness darkening his eyes as he looked between Faith and Constantine. A tinge of rebuke entered his gaze, making Constantine feel all the more the cad for his careless, caustic words. “I shall permit you some privacy.”

“No need, my lord.” Faith thrust out that stubborn chin as Constantine had seen her do dozens of times. Only this time, sparks of betrayal and chagrin spewed from the fire crackling in her eyes.

Nevertheless, Leo slipped from the room, but not before giving Constantine another half-pitying, half-condemning look which all but shouted, “Not well done of you.”

The former he despised. The latter he deserved, but it was paltry compared to the self-castigation tunneling through his blood, leaving a scalding path of remorse.

Faith stared somewhere past Constantine’s shoulder as if she couldn’t bear to look upon him.

“I tender my resignation, Lord Constantine, effective immediately. I also refuse to continue this charade of a betrothal.”

He’d expected both, yet an objection throttled to his throat.

“Faith…forgive me.”