Page 54 of Never a Proper Lady

“I assure you, my dear, there will be many times you won’t thank me. I do not travel the typical tourist routes. However, I can guarantee you’ll never be the same. I shall give you a taste of freedom and adventure generally reserved for men.”

A steeliness infused Faith’s spine as she straightened.

Three more interminable days, and she’d be away from here and employed by someone who actually wanted her to work for them. A weight lifted from her shoulders, and even though her bruised soul would take time to recover, she summoned an authentic smile.

She prayed ginger tea truly cured travel sickness, or it would be a very trying few months indeed.

“I shall not let you down, Mrs. Peagilly.”

“I’m certain you shan’t.” Mrs. Peagilly fingered the pearls at her neck. “May I give you a piece of advice, Miss Roth?”

“Of course.”

Should Faith remain in Lady Edyth’s bedchamber or move her belongings to the servant’s quarters attached to Mrs. Peagilly’s room?

Common sense suggested the former would require far fewer explanations.

But could Faith listen to Lady Edyth’s prattle and not betray herself?

“I would play your spat with Lord Constantine as a lover’s tiff.”

Lovers? Hardly. More like not quite enemies.

“Nothing more,” Mrs. Peagilly continued. “Don’t discuss it with anyone either. Not even Lady Charlotte or Lady Edyth.”

Discuss what?

Faith stared at Mrs. Peagilly blankly for an instant.

Oh, the quarrel.

Seemingly unaware of Faith’s wandering thoughts, Mrs. Peagilly pressed her fingertips together.

“Squabbles among betrothed are far more common than anyone admits. Even sweet Charlotte and my dear Wilfred have had a few spats, and he is a man of God. Nerves or cold feet and all of that, I suppose. I’ve never suffered from nerves, and my constitution has always been hardy.”

She smiled, her eyes crinkling like fans at the corners.

“Mine as well.” Faith had rarely even suffered a head cold as a child.

“Nevertheless,” Mrs. Peagilly said, “until we depart Dovetonwick, I shall endeavor to be at your side whenever possible.”

That afforded Faith much relief.

Otherwise, she’d either have to remain in her chamber, claiming an ailment that restricted her to her bed but didn’t require a physician, or become a quick study at acting like an infatuated featherbrain. Neither was a palatable choice.

“Leave the Kellinggraves to explain to all and sundry why the betrothal was called off after you’ve gone.” Mrs. Peagilly gave a sage nod and an arch look. “They can deal with the tattle, for in short order, we shall be on a ship bound for tropical climes to have the time of our lives.”

“That sounds perfectly reasonable, Mrs. Peagilly.”

And if not perfectly wonderful, at least far better than being unemployed, alone, and in London without sufficient funds to last more than a few months.

How long would it take for the scandalous dust to settle when she left with Mrs. Peagilly instead of Constantine?

As Faith was a nobody, not long, she’d venture.

Someone le beau monde deemed more important would commit a faux pas, and the jackals would turn their sights onto another prey.

There was something to be said about being an inconsequential commoner.

The real question was, how long before Faith would want to return to England?