Misleading a Duke. A.S. Fenichel

a good sport and gentleman by not calling an end to the engagement himself. He’s protecting your reputation.”

      “Mother would be furious. She’s already quite in despair over my behavior. Well, what she knows of it.” Faith cringed at the lectures she’d had to endure the last few times she’d seen her mother. Living at the West Lane house made it more tolerable. Still, she hated to be at odds with Mother.

      “I don’t think your mother is why.” Mercy was curled up on the chaise with her feet pulled under her willowy figure. Her green eyes flashed with merriment, and she twirled a strawberry-blond curl around one finger. Her yellow dress was a direct compliment to the butter yellow and blue décor.

      Faith shrugged. “I was just starting to find him interesting when he found out about our investigation.”

      Aurora patted her silken blond hair back into place. She had dropped all pretense of mourning the beast she’d been married to, and was in a lovely royal-blue day dress. People talked that it had only been eight months since her husband’s death, but she’d had enough of black and brown frocks. “Do you think you would like to marry him, Faith? I mean, despite his reluctance to tell you what he was doing all those years out of the country? We still know almost nothing about his character, beyond the fact that he seems nice on the surface.”

      “No,” Faith answered quickly. “I won’t marry him under the current circumstances.”

      Mercy laughed and pushed her spectacles up on her nose. “It seems the two of you are in agreement then.” She sobered. “There would be some scandal if you called off without an offer from another gentleman, but we can survive a bit of gossip. You would recover.”

      Frustrated, Faith plucked at the end of her ruffled sleeve. “I don’t like the way any of this has gone. I wanted to know him before I married him or rid myself of him. Is that so much to ask?” She hopped up from the settee and paced to the window.

      The parlor faced the street, and the rainy day had kept most people inside. Still, there were a few hearty souls trudging down West Lane with their umbrellas held high. The weather was a reflection of the disaster she’d made of her life.

      “What do you want?” Rhys asked.

      Turning, Faith faced her closest friends. They would do anything for her and she would do the same. All four women had been sent away to finishing school in Lucerne due to bad behavior, and the three years growing into young ladies had been a pleasure because of the friendship they’d forged. Nothing would ever separate them; not marriage nor distance. They were the Wallflowers of West Lane. It had been the luckiest day in Faith’s life when she met these three on the way to Switzerland. She shuddered when she imagined having to survive the Wormbattle School for Young Ladies on her own.

      “If I could just get him to listen, really listen. I mean, without all the other noise about what we’ve said and done. I want him to tell me what kind of man he is and answer some basic questions about his life. I want to tell him what I want from life and have him hear me. I know men don’t care what women want, but I refuse to be a doormat.” Faith’s breath had sped up with her desires. She calmed. “If I could take him away somewhere, where he would be forced to listen—” She laughed. “I sound like a madwoman.”

      Mercy tapped her chin. “No. A bit desperate, but not mad. How could we convince the Duke of Breckenridge to go somewhere private, out of the city, where you might talk to him uninterrupted for a few days?”

      Faith threw up her hands. Maybe there had been a better way to handle this arranged marriage her mother had devised, but she still couldn’t think of how. If only Nicholas had simply answered some questions rather than remaining silent on every subject in his past. “It’s impossible.”

      “Not necessarily.” Rhys sat forward from where he had been ensconced in an oversized chair with Poppy.

      Tugging on his shoulder, Poppy forced him to face her. “What’s going on in that head of yours, husband?”

      “A bit of a scheme is all.”

      Aurora narrowed her eyes and rubbed her palms together. “What kind of scheme?”

      Unfolding from the chaise, Mercy rose up to her full height and went to Faith by the window. “Come sit and let’s figure this out.” She wrapped her arm around Faith’s shoulders and coaxed her back to the grouping of seats set up for conversation.

      Sitting on the chaise with Mercy, Faith sighed. “What did you have in mind, Rhys?”

      “Well, Poppy tells me that the best way to judge a man’s character is to see how he treats servants and animals,” Rhys said.

      Poppy grinned wide. “I had no idea you were even listening to me back before we liked each other.”

      The two had been at odds for years before they fell in love. Looking at them now, one would think they had always been together.

      He kissed Poppy’s cheek. “I always listen, my love.”

      Faith couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “What Poppy said is true. A man who is cruel to people in his employ, or animals, is not to be trusted.”

      “It’s important to know if he has a temper as well.” Aurora’s previous playfulness was gone.

      Mercy said, “A temper merely means he is passionate. It is whether that temper is violent and out of his control that is important.”

      Aurora nodded. “Agreed.”

      Stroking his chin, Rhys considered the qualifications. “A gentleman is trained to hide many things in public. If you want to find out the kind of man he really is, you will have to be alone with him and put him in a difficult situation. Are you willing to go that far, Faith?”

      It was outrageous to spend time alone with a man, no matter the situation. To not have a chaperone would ruin her reputation. However, marrying a man whose character was a mystery was far more dangerous, as Aurora had shown them all. Desperate for some way to resolve the matter, Faith asked, “How do we get Nicholas to go along with this?”

      “He won’t,” Rhys said. “We would have to trick him and trap him somewhere.”

      “Good Lord,” Poppy screeched. “You were incensed by the idea of spying on him only last spring, and now you want to lure him into a trap?”

      “I don’t see how else Faith will be able to find out what she wants to know.” Rhys stood and rubbed his chin while pacing the rug.

      Aurora tapped her fingers on her knee. “Do you think Mr. Arafa might be of some help?”

      “Would he help?” Mercy’s eyes were wide behind her spectacles.

      Rhys considered it.

      Poppy said, “He might. He admires Faith and thinks her a good match for his friend. Also, he feels bad for having told Nicholas about our spying. He didn’t expect him to react so intensely.”

      “Poppy and I will go and speak to him and see what he thinks.” Rhys returned to his seat. “You’ll need to find an animal of some kind to test him with.”

      Mercy clapped. “The downstairs maid, Kathy, just brought in a stray puppy. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind your taking over his care.”

      “That dog is a menace,” Aurora said.

      A wicked smile lit Mercy’s face. “He’ll be perfect to test that anger we talked about too.”

      Faith hadn’t heard about the puppy. “I will go and speak to Kathy after tea and meet the puppy.”

      “This is madness.” Faith must have lost her mind to even consider spending time alone with Nicholas.

      Rhys shrugged. “If you think it goes too far, Faith, then we’ll forget the entire thing.”

      “I can’t live with the current status of things,” Faith said. “I need to know if calling