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‘I’m not that girl any more.’
‘No, you’re not.’ Her father smiled at her. ‘After all, you came home this time.’ He stretched out his legs as far as the taxi seats would allow and folded his hands behind his head. ‘So, are you ready to tell me why you did leave? Really, this time?’
Faith shrugged. ‘Nothing complicated. I wanted to be myself, and I felt I couldn’t be that with the title round my neck and everyone watching my every screw-up.’
Except Dominic had been right about one thing. She would always be Lady Faith, however much she pretended otherwise. Maybe she really was no better than him. Hiding from her true name wasn’t very different from hiding behind a reputation.
‘And now?’ her dad asked. ‘Now you’re back. What do you want to be now?’
‘Still myself,’ Faith replied, because that was always, always going to be true. But... ‘Lady Faith, I guess. Whoever she turns out to be.’
‘Well, if you really want to find out, seems to me the best place to learn is Fowlmere Manor.’
‘I suppose it is.’ Could she stay? Should she? Not just for a quick pit stop, but long enough to figure out what it really meant to be Lady Faith Fowlmere, here and now.
‘I’ve got a meeting with Jack tomorrow. We’re going to be talking about some of the plans for the estate. You should come with me.’
Was she ready? Getting involved with Dad’s scheme...that wasn’t something she could just run away from. If she committed to it, she’d have to see it through. Not doing so would mean leaving her parents in the lurch, more than ever before.
Was she ready to take on the responsibility she’d always avoided? Yes, maybe her parents had been responsible for running down the estate. But did that mean she shouldn’t help build it back up?
‘There’ll need to be some changes...’ she said.
‘I know, I know.’ He gave her a self-deprecating smile. ‘I know I haven’t always done right by you. Or your mother. But we’ve been trying, you know. When you left...things were bad for a while. But we’ve turned a corner, I think. And having you home...maybe we can all make it work. Together.’
She’d heard it before, plenty of times. But something in her wanted to believe it was true this time. ‘How do I know you won’t gamble it away, or get bored and find something better to do?’
‘You don’t.’ He took her hand and squeezed it lightly. ‘But, buttercup, what you do know is that it’s a lot more likely I’ll make a mess of it without you.’
That was true.
Maybe this was something she could do. Something she could be good at.
Maybe, against the odds, the place in the world she’d been searching for, the space she needed to feel at home was, actually, home.
Faith bit her lip. Then she said, ‘Give me the guy’s number. I’ll call and tell him I’m running the project with you now.’
Her father beamed, and Faith hoped she wasn’t making a colossal mistake.
* * *
‘You really should talk to her,’ Sylvia said, and Dominic sighed into his paperwork. Was even the office not safe now?
‘I can’t help but feel we’ve had this conversation before,’ he said, shifting a pile of folders to the middle of his desk, making a wall of filing. ‘Don’t you have a tea room to run, or something?’
‘Russell is taking care of it for the day.’ Sylvia dropped into his client chair and kicked her feet up on his filing wall. ‘Which leaves me free to bother you.’
‘How wonderful and special.’ Dominic reached for the next folder in the stack. He had no idea what it contained, or what he might need it for, but if it meant not talking to Sylvia, he was all for it.
Except she was still sitting there. Watching him. Waiting for him to crack.
‘What do I have to do to get rid of you?’ he asked.
‘Talk to Faith,’ she replied promptly.
He sighed and put down the file. ‘What on earth could I possibly have to say to her that wasn’t already covered, in excruciating public detail, at the event last month?’ And in the gossip rags the next day. Everyone was speculating about their mythical on-again, off-again romance. Some even dared to speculate that Faith had spent the last three years in their private love nest on the Continent.
If only they knew the truth, he thought. They’d be so disappointed. Not unlike him.
‘That doesn’t count,’ Sylvia said, which made no sense at all.
‘Trust me. It was the most honest conversation we’ve ever had. Possibly the only honest one.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t think there’s anything left for Faith and I to say to each other.’
