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She clutched his jacket, needing to be closer to him.
The burbling of the waterfall and the songs of the birds dimmed as everything around them faded. It was just Faith and Constantine, tasting, exploring, discovering.
Suddenly, he lifted his head and peered toward the entrance. In the growing twilight, the trees cast dancing shadows in the fairy garden.
“Someone’s coming,” he whispered.
He swiftly put a respectable distance between them, and once Faith collected her scattered wits, she scrambled to take a seat on the bench on the pond’s opposite side.
Thank goodness impending darkness hid her kiss-reddened mouth and flushed cheeks. However, the full moon had crept midway up the sky and would soon bathe the garden in fairy light.
“I thought you said this was a private garden,” she whispered, still feeling his hard but also velvety soft mouth upon hers.
“It is.” Constantine’s focus remained riveted on the gate.
The unmistakable rasping of the key rotating in the lock carried to her ears.
The gate edged inward, and a tall man stepped through the opening.
“Leopold!” Constantine strode across the tile, his shoes clicking a staccato until he reached the grass.
Grinning as broadly as his brother, Leopold met him halfway, and the men embraced.
“Little brother. It’s been too long.”
He clapped Constantine on the back, his gaze veering to Faith, who’d stood at his entrance.
“This must be your bride-to-be.”
Faith found his grin contagious and smiled in return, instantly liking the next Duke of Landrith.
“My warmest felicitations. I had no idea you were courting anyone, Con. Imagine my surprise upon arriving home an hour ago and having no fewer than a dozen guests ask me if I’d met my future sister-in-law yet.”
Hadn’t the duke or duchess, Lady Charlotte, or Lady Edyth apprised the Marquess of Kenworthy of the facts? Perhaps the family had been occupied, or there hadn’t been a moment for a confidential conversation.
“About that, Leo.” Constantine pulled his earlobe, appearing almost sheepish. “It’s not what it seems, brother.”
Faith saw the shadow before Constantine and knew who the interloper was before his vile form stepped into the garden. Ominousness and suspicion shrouded Martin Kellinggrave like the pernicious serpent in the Garden of Eden.
How long had he been listening?
He examined the brothers with a shrewdness that bordered on eerie before his reptilian gaze caressed Faith.
She shuddered but resisted the impulse to cross her arms in a protective gesture. By all that was holy, she would not let the lecher see her disquiet. He probably enjoyed unnerving women.
“What is not what it seems?” Martin asked.
