Page 77 of Leap of Faith
“But will it not also make it look as if I am betrothed to Lord Westwood?”
“Only if we say it is so, and he is a much better prospect, my dear. However, you are his ward, and it is unexceptionable for you to wear my jewels. I think it’s far more important to dispel the rumours about Sir Julian at this juncture.”
Faith gasped when the heavy jewels were placed about her neck and on her ears. They were a brilliant counterpoint to the blue of her eyes and the gown.
Lady Westwood smiled with approval. “They look made just for you. Remember, you have done nothing wrong. Smile and whatever you do, do not behave as though you are guilty. Dominic and I will do the rest.”
“How are you to do that?”
“A few well-timed comments, in addition to dancing with the right people. Trust me, we will weather the storm. Are you ready?”
Faith shook her head in dismay. “Not particularly, but I do not see any other choice.”
“When people stare and whisper, hold your chin up with indifference. Nothing else impresses the stuffy matrons and crotchety patriarchs more.”
That drew a slight laugh from Faith.
They made their way downstairs to where her sisters and the gentlemen were already waiting. Thank God for their protection. Faith could not have done this without knowing they would be by her side. As she looked at her sisters, her heart overflowed with affection, and she steeled her nerves to be courageous for a few hours. She could wilt later.
Lord Westwood came straight to her and bowed over her hand, continuing to hold it as he spoke to her. “Mother dressed you in full battle armour, I see.”
Faith tried not to blush under his approving gaze, but it filled her with confidence to perform the farce necessary to survive the evening.
“Marking your territory, Dom?” Lord Carew drawled as he approached and flashed a glance at her necklace. He bent over Faith’s hand and boldly kissed the air above it. “My offer stands if you’d rather be announced as my betrothed this evening.”
Something in his devilish gleam made Faith wonder if he actually wanted her, or was more interested in besting Westwood.
Faith shook her head with a shy smile. The hard part was, she really liked Carew, she just did not want to be married to him. “You are a true gentleman for offering, but you do not really want to be married to me.”
He placed his hand over his heart. “Give me time and I will convince you.”
“Thank you,” she answered softly. “You are a good friend.”
“More damning words were never spoken.” He chuckled.
After greeting the others, they filed into the carriages and made their way to the Jersey residence. Waiting was more agonizing than the act, Faith decided, as it took over an hour for them to reach the front of the mansion. Once they had at last climbed the stairs and were announced, it was a relief.
“Ah, Miss Whitford. I wondered if the rumour could be true,” Lady Jersey said. “I would not think you’d have willingly chosen Sir Julian over your other choices.” She smiled knowingly, and Faith fought a blush.
“I may trust you to help us dispel the rumours, my lady?” Lord Westwood asked theton’sgreatest gossip with his most handsome smile.
“Of course. Go on with you,” she said as she turned to greet Faith’s sisters.
There were stares and whispers just as expected, and Faith was immensely grateful for the support of Lord Westwood’s arm. The ballroom glittered in the candlelight, with swathes of colour dotting the room, but Faith barely registered any of that.
“I will dance the opening set with you,” he said. She nodded, grateful again to have that decision made for her.
However, afterwards, she wished she had been prepared ahead of time for what would happen. Their minuet was interrupted by an arrival, and the music changed abruptly toGod Save the King.
“The Prince is here,” she heard someone nearby saying. The dancers fell apart into an aisle of sorts in the middle of the ballroom floor, and everyone bowed or curtsied as the Prince Regent entered and walked down the floor, greeting people.
Faith had never thought to see royalty. Drawing rooms and presentations had not yet resumed since the death of the nation’s beloved Princess Charlotte, and even the Regent rarely made social appearances. Given his reputation as an extravagant wastrel, Faith thought his genuine grief over his daughter did him much credit.
She felt Westwood’s arm pull her back up to standing as she noticed the Prince stop directly before them.
“Westwood. Who is this lovely creature?”
“Your Royal Highness, this is my ward, Miss Whitford.”
