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The woman wearing blue.

The snoopy busybody. How dare she smudge Faith’s reputation when she hadn’t met her?

“That person has been busy spreading that savory morsel amongst the guests. At this juncture, we can safely presume…” Lord Constantine pulled a face and brushed three fingers over his forehead.

“Presume what?”

Did she really want to know?

What alternative was there?

When he remained silent, strain accenting the chiseled contours of his face, she sighed.

“I’m not a wilting flower, my lord. I assure you, I shall not weep or swoon.”

Regardless, Faith’s stomach tightened in anticipation.

“Swoon? I should say not.” Genuine offense crinkled his forehead that Faith would suggest such a thing.

“You, my dear Miss Roth, are the most singular female I know and least likely to indulge in feminine machinations with a fit of the vapors.”

Was that a compliment or an insult?

It was so very difficult to tell with this odd man.

In truth, half the time, Faith wasn’t certain he knew himself.

“My lord?” Folding her arms, she arched an eyebrow.

A wonder no one had come upon them conversing in what might be misconstrued as an intimate manner. Breakfast might be credited for that welcome reprieve.

No doubt, most of the guests were either still dining or abed.

In general, the upper ten thousand seldom left their comfortable mattresses at an early hour. They didn’t know what they had missed. Morning was the most glorious time of day. A gift from the Lord, bringing new hope and opportunities.

“The tale isn’t going to tell itself, your lordship.”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Might as well have the whole of it and know what she was up against.

“Yes, well.” Lord Constantine cleared his throat while taking a furtive sweep of the corridor. He tucked his chin to his chest, cupped the back of his neck, and glanced up at her through hooded eyes, his expression inscrutable.

Was that chagrin shining there?

Was the confident, arrogant, self-righteous Lord Constantine Kellinggrave embarrassed?

This morsel must be extraordinarily tantalizing, indeed.

“We can presume that most guests have been led to believe, like my cousin just did, that you are my…erm…mistress.”