The Notorious Bridegroom (25 page)

She peered at his shadowed face by the door, confused by his strange behavior and accusing questions. Could he possibly be jealous?

“Whatever happened in the parlor today was quite civilized and proper. It is only a coincidence that my handkerchief and cloak were left behind on the two occasions I have had to see Society’s amusements.” Her back up, she bristled, “If I am to be accused of something, I would like to know the charge.”

Bryce rubbed his forehead tiredly. “I am not in the mood to trade barbs with you this evening. We shall save it for another time.”

Before he was finished, she had marched over to him and jabbed a finger in his chest. “It
has
been an extremely tedious day, and as soon as I could, I sent them on their way, giving them absolutely no encouragement to their suit. Lady Elverston and Martha shall support me in this.”

She was close enough to see the amused light in his eyes and wanted to hit him for not trusting her. He didn’t give her the chance but caught her slender waist in his strong hands and tugged her into his arms.

He kissed her once and murmured in her ear. “Your kisses are like a bottomless well from which I will never have my thirst quenched.” One last lingering kiss and then he simply hugged her to him in silent need, and swept out the door.

She was speechless and felt a great happiness shining in her heart. He was so close to saying that word “love.”

Ever the efficient butler, Stone waited at the door when Bryce finally arrived home at half-past two in the morning. Thoughts of his recent meeting with the prime minister and the secretary of war still consumed him as he wearily climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He damned the fates for the bad luck of not learning the spies’ plans that night on the docks.

Everyone tonight had thought it likely that the French invasion would probably happen within the week. All agreed the only practical landing for the French was along the southeast coast. Now, if they could only discover where and when. Easy to find the questions, not so easy to find the answers.

He lingered by Patience’s bedchamber door but didn’t want to disturb her, although he yearned for her healing warmth. His hand reached out to touch the door and slid down to the knob. Then dropped away.

Bryce tapped lightly at Red Tattoo’s room near his and the door immediately opened, the valet’s dark face watchful. He was still dressed.

Red Tattoo shook his head, his mouth a grim line. “He has completely disappeared. No one has located any unidentified body in the river or elsewhere.”

Bryce sighed, pursing his lips. “Damn!” He hit the doorjamb with his hand. “He must still be alive. We must find him, he is our only source. I have the bait but where do we lay the trail?” He paused. “We shall continue our search tomorrow.” He made his way down the hall to his bedchamber, annoyed with himself. There was something he was missing, a piece of the puzzle teasingly so close, but he was too exhausted to think more on it.

“Why is Stone sending all the gentlemen callers away, Aunt Patience?” Sally asked from her vigil by the window. She patted Spring’s neatly combed hair absentmindedly, then turned to face Patience, who sat comfortably in a blue damask wing chair mending Martha’s torn riding habit.

In another corner of the parlor, Martha played a Haydn sonata, the haunting notes spinning smoothly off the walls. They were enjoying a quiet afternoon together. His lordship had disappeared before breakfast and had not yet returned.

Patience looked up when Sally called her name. “What did you say, sweetheart?” She pushed away a wayward curl from her forehead, her gaze softening on the precious child she had come to love so easily.

“The butler is sending our visitors away. I thought ye liked having gentlemen to see ye.” Sally’s round face frowned in confusion as she went to stand beside Patience.

Patience put her handiwork to the side and lifted Sally onto her lap. “I do not feel like entertaining guests today and asked Stone if he would kindly thank our guests for their visit and to call another day.”

Martha quietly finished Haydn with a graceful lift of her fingers and walked over to where Patience and Sally sat, kneeling beside them.

“Aunt Martha?” The child had taken many relatives upon herself.

Martha’s gray eyes shone warmly on Sally. “Yes, dear?”

“I was just thinkin’ that ye are like me.”

Martha met Patience’s confused gaze with a slight smile, wondering what the child meant by that remark.

“Yer nice so people are kind to ye, like Aunt Patience, and she give ye a ’ome, just like they did to me.”

Martha’s face grew pinched, and she uttered a slight choking sound while rising from her position on the floor. She obviously didn’t know how to respond to the wound Sally had inadvertently caused.

Patience rushed to comfort both of her dear ones. “Sally, I say that it doesn’t matter where you live, as long as you are surrounded by people who love and care about you. Although this house is a place where Lord Londringham has generously allowed us to stay, it need not be this grand. It may only have four walls and a ceiling. It’s the place where you have found your heart.”

Martha murmured by the window, “What a pretty speech.”

Her remark surprised Patience, who had not realized her chaperone a cynic.

But Sally was not through her inquiry with Patience. “But ’ow long will this be our ’ome?” Her blue eyes held a hint of sadness.

That was a question Patience could not answer. She was suddenly afraid for Sally, because she could certainly not give her assurances that any of them would have a home with his lordship. And what about Martha? Patience’s heart went out to her kind friend, who depended on others for their charity and generosity. Patience knew Martha longed to be married and have a home of her own. But at the age of eight-and-twenty, it had been a long time since Martha had received any gentlemen callers interested in pursuing matrimony, she remembered her friend telling her.

Sally interrupted her musings by reaching out her little hand to turn Patience’s head to her. “Lem says we have guards that won’t allow anyone in the house. Why do we have guards, Aunt Patience?”

“I believe his lordship is concerned over everyone’s safety, and since he is not here to protect us, those men will.” Merely thinking of Bryce made her smile. She could still smell the bough of honeysuckle he had left on her pillow this morning. Patience put Sally down and called to Martha, “Shall we have more tea?”

Her friend glanced up from studying the scene on the street. “Did we not have tea this past hour?”

“Umm…I know, but right now another cup of hot tea sounds wonderful.” Patience closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair.

Martha allowed Sally to ring for Stone, but after several minutes, no one came to their request.

Patience frowned. “How unlike Stone. What could be keeping him?”

Martha grinned. “He is probably turning away your suitors looking for the adventuress. I shall walk down to the kitchen myself and see. Want to come, Sally?” Martha offered, standing by the doorway with her hand outstretched. Sally eagerly skipped over to Martha. They promised to return soon with a hot pot of tea and perhaps something sweet to eat.

A few minutes later, Patience heard a knock on the door and stood up when Stone entered the room.

“Martha and Sally left to find our refreshment. We do not need your help after all.”

His face an impenetrable mask, as always, Stone handed Patience a note. “I just received this missive from a street urchin who bid tell you it was urgent.”

She looked curiously at the vellum paper, puzzled by the mysterious note. “Thank you, Stone. Have you heard anything from his lordship?”

“No, miss,” he said, and then bowed and took leave of the room with stiff dignity.

After seeing he was indeed gone, Patience hurriedly cracked the seal and opened the slip of paper with spidery writing. Glancing at the signature, she saw it was from Colette. Strange, she had not heard from her friend since they were together at Paddock Green. She had assumed the French maid had returned to her home country with her mistress.

Patience slowly sat down again in a nearby chair, immersed in the letter. Colette was in great trouble and urgently needed her help. She did not detail her worries, asking only that Patience meet her in Puffins Lane, a few blocks from Covent Garden, where she was staying with the countess. A glance at the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece showed half-past six. With Colette expecting her at seven o’clock, Patience didn’t have much time to make a decision.

If only Bryce was here, he could accompany her, but then she scoffed at the idea.
After all that has happened in the last few weeks, I should surely be able to help Colette in her time of need.

Perhaps the countess had dismissed her? If so, what could she doing at a house in Puffins Lane, and how could Patience help her friend? As she ran down the hallway to grab her light brown pelisse and matching bonnet she speculated on what possible trouble the French maid could have.

Since the daylight was fading, Patience knew she had to hurry. She jammed the note into her pocket and rushed down the stairs, bumping into Stone. An immovable force, he effectively blocked her path to the front door.

“Miss, I cannot have you leave without first speaking with his lordship,” he told her, his face an impassive mask.

“Stone, I appreciate your concern. But, truly, an old friend wishes to see me and needs my help. I assure you I will only be gone a short while.” She smiled her most beguiling smile, hoping to persuade him.

Stone hesitated before moving out of the way. He intoned, “Please advise Lord Londringham that I did instruct you not to leave this house.”

Patience jammed on her silk brown bonnet and ran out the door, calling, “Yes, yes, of course.”

Fortunately, she had sent Lem ahead to find a hack, and within the better part of fifteen minutes of receiving the note Patience was on her way.

Later, as Stone passed the stairs on the way to the kitchen, he saw a white piece of paper. When he stooped to retrieve it, he discovered it was the very same note he had delivered into Miss Patience’s hands earlier. Concerned over her safety, he scanned the letter before rolling his eyes heavenward. His lordship would not like this one bit. Not one bit.

Bryce climbed out of his carriage, noting that his injured leg felt somewhat better, and hurried up the steps, nodding to a tall stranger in the shadows of the corner of the house, one of his men responsible for security. It had been a lovely spring day, one he wished he could have spent with Patience.

He tossed Stone his coat and asked his venerable butler, “Where is Miss Patience?” Patting his breast pocket assured Bryce his present was safe. So anxious to see Patience, he had totally missed the paler-than-normal look on his butler’s face.

“Ah…she has gone out to meet a friend…” Stone fiddled with his watch chain. He never fiddled with anything.

Bryce’s cheerful mood quickly vanished. He stalked over to Stone and demanded an explanation.

Stone’s hand shook when he handed his lordship the note. Bryce rapidly skimmed the note, then crumpled it in his hand. It could be nothing and yet again, he couldn’t stop the feeling of foreboding sweeping over him. His well-honed instincts told him something was at odds here. Patience was in danger, he knew it as well as he knew his own name. He had met Colette previously but didn’t remember her well. What could the countess’s abigail want with Patience?

“How could you let her leave?” he demanded, his voice deadly soft.

Bryce heard fear in his butler’s voice. “I did try to persuade her not to go, but she paid no heed. I understood she was visiting a friend.” His words became stronger as Stone convinced himself he had done nothing wrong.

Bryce worked his hands by his side, frowning, feeling his body tense, harnessing his power and senses, like a beast ready for the hunt. Only a day ago, someone had taken a shot at Patience in Hyde Park. “Miss Patience should not have left this house without me. You better pray no harm comes to her.” Bryce’s eyes scorched Stone all the way to Hell.

“How much time is she ahead of me?” Bryce glanced at the longcase clock. Seven o’clock.

“Perhaps thirty minutes, my lord,” Stone informed him while helping his lordship back into his discarded creased coat.

Bryce swore under his breath. Time was of the essence. Every minute he was losing light. With the address memorized, he headed for the door.

Stone cleared his throat. “I hope you can forgive me someday, my lord, for allowing Miss Patience to leave. Please bring her back safely.”

Bryce stared in surprise at his ordinarily calm and collected servant. He had never seen Stone show such humility. Bryce nodded determinedly. “I shall.”

No one would have doubted the look of resolve on his lordship’s face as Stone shut the door behind him. Certainly not his butler, who sank down on the nearest chair in the hallway, mopping his brow and whispering prayers for the safe return of his master and Miss Patience.

“Where is this place?” Patience continually peered out the window of her carriage, searching for Puffins Lane. Unfortunately, her driver, being unfamiliar with this part of London, slowed his ancient horse, calling back to Patience that he was confident he would soon find it.

She jerked back from the open window when a blacksooted face materialized in front of her with a toothless grin. Glancing at her locket watch, beads of perspiration dotted her brow. Quarter past seven. She was late. What if she did not reach Colette in time?

She dabbed her face with her lucky pink handkerchief. Would Colette wait for her? What kind of trouble was she in? Perhaps she should have brought a weapon with her. Planning a course of action, she opened her reticule and pecked around, finding a change purse, powder, a comb, and walnuts.

Walnuts? No wonder her reticule felt heavy. The bottom of it bulged with various sizes of nuts. Even her cloak pockets felt bumpy. Reaching her hand into a pocket, she discovered more nuts. She could not help but smile when she remembered that she had promised to take Sally to the park to feed the squirrels. The child had offered to gather the animals’ dinner and apparently decided to use Patience’s reticule and cloak for a satchel. She weighed one small walnut in her hand and wondered if she could pelt someone with it. No, it would definitely cause no damage. She sighed and leaned back against the carriage seat.

“There it is, miss.” Patience nearly jumped off of her seat. “I knowed I would find it,” he shouted exultantly. Her hand shook as she reached for the door handle, her heart thumping out of control in her ears, her courage deserting her. Was it too late to return to the town house?

Out the window, she saw a busy sidewalk filled with ragtag urchins pushing each other in the street, ladies of unknown reputation sauntering by twos, and several filthy men loitering about, eyeing her carriage suspiciously.

She frowned at noting the sunset creeping toward night. Unsteadily, she climbed down from the coach, clutching her reticule tightly to her chest. She remembered feeling much braver earlier about this adventure.

I must help Colette. She needs me,
Patience thought over and over again, trying to draw courage from her empty well of confidence.

The driver agreed to wait for her after she paid him an extra bob. Her eyes focused on the house in front of her, Patience studied the brick three-storied building. It looked like it had not been lived in for quite some time. Carriage wheels creaked down the cobbled streets while a putrid smell of heated garbage assailed her senses.