Redemption of the Duke by Gayle Callen Page A

disturbing to feel stared at. It didn’t help that
     she was self-conscious about her hair, which the bonnet only worsened. She caught
     little Frances trying not to stare at her, and once, giggling behind her hand.
    But Faith didn’t mind. It was best that she be thought older and out of style. She
     hadn’t realized she might not like being so on display with the duke’s family, and
     it reminded her that Timothy Gilpin was probably still in town. She didn’t want to
     give him any reason to think about her, to wonder why she had to run away to London
     to take a position, rather than simply stay home.
    They walked along Regent Street, spending the most time in their dressmaker’s shop,
     but also visiting a milliner, a cobbler, and a bookshop. Faith wasn’t required to
     do much of anything except offer an occasional opinion, and it was relaxing.
    The strangest thing was that every time she was on the street, she had a prickly feeling
     at the back of her neck, an . . . awareness that something wasn’t quite right. She’d
     look around but see nothing more than other shoppers enjoying their day, ladies strolling
     arm in arm, gentlemen carrying their parcels, the occasional servant scurrying to
     a waiting carriage. She kept dismissing this foolish notion, but every time they reached
     the street again, it came back. Faith had the unusual sensation that someone was watching
     them—but of course, people were always watching aristocratic families. She simply
     wasn’t used to it. And she never could discern one single person with his eyes on
     them, so at last, she forced it from her mind.
    “Oh, it is Rothford!” the duchess suddenly exclaimed, waving at her son and a friend,
     who were about to enter a coffee house.
    Faith slipped quietly to the back of the group, where she preferred to be anyway.
     The two men crossed the busy street and approached the ladies. She wanted to feel
     indifferent toward the duke’s arrival—good Lord, she lived with him now—but she could
     not. There was something about him that drew the eye, that made one think of vitality
     and fitness and . . . oh very well, his handsome features could surely make a lady
     swoon. But not her, of course.
    Everyone knew everyone else, until the duke’s friend spied her.
    “And whom do we have here?” he asked.
    She could feel his gaze touch on her ugly hair, her bulky clothes, and instead of
     being embarrassed, she felt safe in her subtle disguise.
    Lady Duncan said, “Lord Shenstone, may I introduce my companion, Miss Faith Cooper.”
    Faith curtsied. Lord Shenstone had the arrogance of a man who knew his good looks
     and his situation of birth gave him all the advantages he would ever need. He had
     reddish-brown hair that curled about his head, and the darkest eyes, which seemed
     unreadable. They should show happiness, but she couldn’t be certain. He was more slender
     than the duke, but she did not assume that meant him to be weaker.
    “Lord Shenstone and my nephew have been friends since their days at Eton,” Lady Duncan
     continued.
    “Friendship—is that what they’re calling our years apart these days?” Lord Shenstone
     said with sarcastic amusement.
    The duke smiled. Faith felt him glance at her only briefly, and she was relieved.
    “Your letter-writing skills were sorely lacking,” Rothford said to his friend.
    “But I thought of you often.” Lord Shenstone turned to Lady Duncan. “If you needed
     a companion, ma’am, why did you not ask? I have so many cousins I know not what to
     do with them.”
    Like they were all pieces on a chessboard for his amusement, Faith thought, keeping
     her annoyed frown at bay. But apparently, she was more transparent than she thought.
    “Ah, your new little servant is not impressed with me, Rothford.”
    She felt her cheeks heat, but how could she defend herself without making things worse?
    “Miss Cooper is not my servant,” the duke said.
    His tone was a bit too sharp,