Love's Harbinger Read Online Free Page A

chaperone's ranting praise of Mr. Delamar. He was by turns a tiger, a noble savage, and once “an extraordinary specimen of virility.”
    “He certainly lives like a savage in that dismal hut above his shop,” Faith pointed out for her aunt’s edification.
    “Not shop, my dear! A newspaper proprietor is head and shoulders above a merchant. Why, Fleet Street is a famous breeding ground for titles. I daresay he will be Lord Delamar before too long if he keeps his nose clean and learns to support the Tories. Then he will move into a respectable establishment. A man has to cut a few corners when he is getting started on his career.”
    Lady Lynne realized that Lord Thomas was lost as a husband for Faith and, with a mind to her duty, took the girl upstairs to enliven her toilette on the off chance that she might yet, in the two weeks of the Season that remained to her, make another catch. Faith, while not aspiring to the title of Incomparable, was by no means an antidote. She possessed that element rarer and more prized than ordinary beauty: she had countenance. Indeed, she had so much of it that it almost amounted to a flaw. Composure was all very well, but it ought to be ruffled at times; for instance, when a particularly eligible parti approached. Not Lady Faith; she would remain calm if her petticoats caught fire.
    It never occurred to Lady Lynne that this monumental calm might be caused by shyness, for Faith tried very hard to conceal it. She forced herself to speak up, but getting much liveliness into her expression was beyond her.
    Her worry about Thomas, however, was nearly enough to unsettle her sangfroid that evening. Her gray eyes sparkled and a blush of color stained her cheeks. The provincial hairdo she had worn to London had long since been revised to a more stylish Méduse coiffure, and her gown, though not much embellished with lace or ribbons, was exquisitely cut. The jonquil shade of Italian crepe, which had seemed at first too pale, looked very well this evening.
    “That Fraser lad who used to dangle after you, Faith—if he makes a rapprochement this evening, don’t cut him. He is only a junior member of the diplomatic corps, but he’s young. He may go somewhere yet.”
    “At least he won’t be going to Mordain Hall, where I’ll end up if—” Faith began, then stopped in midspeech. She must not even think such things.
    Lady Lynne laughed gaily and tried to reassure her. “Don’t you believe it. I nabbed a viscount for your cousin Emily the last week of the Season, and I’ll do as well for you yet. I won’t have my record spoiled by that demmed Thomas Vane.”
    The niece was ushered out the door, and Lady Lynne bolted upstairs to add a touch of rouge to her cheeks and to put a very pretty, very long mohair shawl on her shoulders, for there was no denying that her waist had achieved such proportions that it was best concealed.
    While Lady Lynne awaited the arrival of Mr. Delamar, Faith invented a tale to satisfy the groom that she must make a short stop on Tottenham Court Road before going to the rout. Her haughty mien and unexceptionable behavior to date gave John Groom no grounds for suspicion, though he did find it odd. But then the servants all knew that odd things were afoot vis-à-vis Lord Thomas and Lady Faith.
    She hardly knew what she might find in Mr. Elwood’s office, but her hope was that the money would be there. She had to accept that Thomas had left town—freely, too—for he had packed his trunk and had been alone. No pistol or knife had been at his back. But if she could at least prove that he had not run off with the money, the marriage would go forth. What worried her considerably was her aunt’s belief that Thomas had taken it. How could she believe such a thing? Thomas was carefree and sometimes a trifle unreliable about keeping appointments, but it was a long jump from there to call him a thief. Of course he was always short of money—what younger son was not? He owed his