Have Faith

Chapter 8

"Have you ever watched a leaf leave a tree? It falls upward first, and then it drifts toward the ground, just as I find myself drifting towards you." Beth Kephart, Undercover

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Chapter Eight

The carriage came to a stop outside Cassian's bank. He suddenly wished he did not have a list of banal errands to run. He really wanted to ask Faith about the scar on her hairline.

A dozen different scenarios had crossed his mind since he had noticed it. All of them worse than the last. But was it not rude to comment on a woman's appearance in a negative way?

"What business do you have here?" asked Faith as she looked up at the bank from the window.

"I just need to authorise payment to a wheel manufacturer," replied Cassian. "I have ordered half a dozen of them for my factories in the north."

"What do they do?" asked Faith.

"They help to blow away the excess cotton so that the workers do not inhale it. It is a health risk, you see. Cotton clogs the lungs." And even though these wheels were costing him a fortune, life was far more precious.

Faith smiled. "Take as long as you need."

"Do you want to come inside?" Cassian asked. What a glorious outing it would be. A trip to the bank. He groaned internally.

Faith pursed her lips. "Oh, are women allowed in there?"

Cassian actually did not know. Had he seen women inside the bank before? Surely some of them accompanied their husbands. Either way, Cassian knew he was an important customer to the bank. If he wanted to bring Faith inside with him, he would.

"Come on," he urged.

Mr Green opened the door and Cassian climbed out. He then held his hand out for Faith. She placed her small hand in his and stepped down onto the street. As Cassian started up the steps, he noticed that Faith was not walking beside him. She had allowed him to move five steps ahead of her before following.

"What are you doing?" he asked, stopping midway up the stairs.

Faith looked up at him and frowned. "Walking."

"Behind me?"

Faith pressed her lips firmly together and gave him a knowing look. "Whether you like it or not, servants do not walk beside their masters. They walk behind them. I cannot walk into that building as your equal."

"Do you expect me to talk to you over my shoulder all day?" he challenged. "I shall get a neck ache."

They caught the eyes of several curious strangers walking the streets of London. Men wearing their best coats and hats paused on the bank steps briefly to watch him speak to a woman dressed like a servant.

"You are being difficult, Mr Kensington," Faith murmured, wary of onlookers.

Cassian was not about to give in. "Take my arm," he insisted, offering it to her.

Faith stared at him, her brown eyes flicking between his face and his outstretched arm. She was searching his face to see if he was being sincere. How could he not be?

After a few moments of indecision, Faith gave in. She hurried up the steps and slipped her arm through his. She fit comfortably, and he felt oddly proud to be walking with her like he was.

Cassian found himself enjoyed the stares of others. Were they jealous of the beauty that was on his arm? She was not his, but they did not know that. Little did they all know that there was much more to Faith than just her beauty. Only few were privy to that knowledge. He was one of the lucky few.