To Wed A Viscount by Adrienne Basso Page A

am sorry for speaking so sharply. It was not intended toward you. Thank you for bringing the cream. ’Tis exactly what we needed.”
    The maid gave her a grateful smile and a quick curtsy before leaving.
    Faith placed the pitcher beside the silver teapot, then glanced helplessly at Griffin. She was almost afraid to open her mouth, certain that she would once again be interrupted.
    â€œYou were speaking of last night,” Griffin prompted, “although I confess after the initial surprise wore off, I did not give it serious contemplation. However, if you would care to enlighten me as to why you felt it necessary to conceal your true identity, I will gladly listen.”
    Faith rubbed her chin. This was certainly a far different attitude than last night, when he had practically tried to bully her into an explanation.
    â€œDue to the unpleasantness of my father’s will, I felt it might be wise to leave Mayfair Manor for a few days, so I journeyed to London with Meredith,” Faith stated calmly. “Meredith thought I might find it amusing to attend Lady Dillard’s musical evening, but since I am still in mourning, it was impossible for me to appear at any society function.
    â€œBoth Meredith and I felt it would harm no one by enacting the little charade of pretending to be Miss Maxwell, a distant cousin. Even Aunt Agatha saw no overt problems with the white lie, and we certainly never thought to encounter anyone who knew my true name.”
    â€œActually, it makes perfect sense,” Griffin said, his voice an odd mix of amusement and candor. “The rules of society can be rigid at times, at others they seem downright ridiculous.”
    â€œPrecisely.” Faith nodded her head eagerly.
    â€œI for one am not known for my strict adherence to propriety.”
    Faith lowered her chin to conceal her smile. “I suspected that might be the case.”
    â€œHowever, there are certain rules that when broken can leave a woman in a most precarious position.”
    Faith’s head snapped up. His voice was suddenly so somber and serious. “Whatever do you mean?”
    â€œI am talking about indiscretion.” Griffin glanced briefly at his boots. “I’m hoping that you will speak candidly to me about your circumstances, however painful they might be.”
    Faith wrinkled her brow. What in the world was he getting at? She searched his handsome features for guidance, but the viscount’s expressionless face revealed nothing. He must have seen her confusion, for he added softly, “I am referring, of course, to your relationship with my brother, Neville.”
    â€œOh.” Color flooded Faith’s cheeks. Remembering Neville and her nearly nonexistent relationship with her former fiance forced her to confront her deepest regrets. She wasn’t pretty enough, desirable enough, womanly enough to be a wife. His rejection of her, in front of the entire community that was her world, had ruined her, leaving her with little pride and almost no self-confidence.
    â€œI would not use the word indiscretion to describe my relationship with your brother. It was more a case of naive stupidity.” Her voice dropped to a discouraged whisper. “And while it might be true that Neville has ruined me, I realize that I must accept the fact that I shall never marry, and therefore carry on with my life to the best of my abilities.”
    She hadn’t meant to sound like such a martyr, but it almost couldn’t be helped. Speaking of Neville was always a painful reminder of her failures.
    Faith caught the flicker of a smile on Griffin’s handsome face. It was somewhat surprising, considering the grave nature of their conversation. Perhaps it wasn’t really a smile, but rather a grimace.
    Griffin breathed deeply, as the moment of reckoning was upon him. He had hoped she would refute his suspicions, deny any hint of impropriety. Yet deep in his heart, Griffin was not