Free Lady Faith Takes a Leap by Maggi Andersen

brother’s disapproval, Vaughn thought it prudent to quit the room. Instead of pulling the cord, he went in search of a footman to order the tea. He returned to the salon planning to make his apologies and leave. He spun around. Where had Faith got to? He hadn’t come across her in the passage, and as his mother was yet to arrive, Faith hadn’t left the house. The curtains stirred and drew him to the French windows. He stepped out onto the terrace.
    A lady’s hat adorned with violets lay on the lawn. In the rose garden, several bushes shook violently, scattering petals. Intrigued, he leapt down onto the lawn and walked toward the garden bed, spying something blue amongst the green.
    “Is that you in there, Faith?” he called, incredulous.
    “Uncle Vaughn?” Freddie’s head bobbed up above the bushes.
    Vaughn gave a bark of laughter. “What on earth are you doing in the middle of the garden, Freddie?”
    “I got caught. I tore my trousers. Now I can’t get out because Lady Faith is in the way.”
    Vaughn hunkered down to find a pleasingly shaped derriere in amongst the bushes. 
    “I’m snagged on a bush,” Faith said, her fingers working at the material.
    Vaughn struggled to suppress his amusement. “I can see that.”
    He edged forward on his knees until he was right behind her then carefully removed the thorns, freeing her skirt. “You can back out now.”
    Vaughn enjoyed the way her derriere swayed as she edged back onto the lawn, which filled his mind with extremely pleasant if ribald thoughts. He assisted her to her feet, and when she turned to face him, her face was as red as a hothouse tomato. A chuckle escaped his lips as he brushed his hands over his soiled knees.
    “Is there a particular reason why you were crawling amongst the roses?” He picked up her hat and handed it to her.  
    “Freddie’s ball,” she said, taking the hat from him, her tone condemning any further discussion.
    “Ah.”
    Freddie scampered into view. “I found my ball!” He jumped up with the offending toy clutched in a grubby hand. Then he dropped his head, crestfallen. “But I’ve torn my trousers.”
    “Viscount Altham!” Nanny Greengage stood on the terrace, arms akimbo. “Where have you been? And what have you done to your clothes? Come to the nursery, please, my lord.”
    An abashed Freddie disappeared into the house with Nanny following.
    Faith brushed the dirt and leaves from her skirt. Discovering a rip near the hem, she murmured her dismay and raised the skirt to inspect it, affording him a pleasing view of shapely ankles and calves. “I can’t go out with your mother looking like this.”
    “The housekeeper, Mrs. Gillies, will set you to rights,” Vaughn said. “It was kind of you to try and help Freddie.”
    She chewed her bottom lip. “I should have gone in search of a servant.”
    “If I know Freddie, you wouldn’t have had a chance,” Vaughn said with a laugh. Reaching over, he plucked a leaf from hair the color of wild meadow daisies. He dropped his hand before he gave in to the urge to remove the pins. Would her tresses reach down to her fetching derrière? He coughed. “You were playing a game?”
    Her eyes warmed with amusement. “I failed to catch the ball. I’m afraid Freddie’s opinion of a female’s sporting prowess may now be irredeemably damaged.”
    Vaughn threw back his head and laughed. “Freddie’s a great lad, isn’t he?”
    “Yes, despite being a Brandreth,” she said with a playful smile.
    “What? You don’t approve of us?”
    “Brandreth men are a determined lot. Heaven help anyone who thwarts you.”
    He took her by the elbow, steering her into the salon. “I’m pleased you realize that.”
    She widened her impossibly blue eyes. “Why?”
    “Because when I’m called upon to rescue you from your next scrape, I don’t wish to spend valuable time arguing with you.”
    “And what scrapes would those be, my lord?”
    “I recall the first occurred when you