In hindsight, Ramscar realized that he should have warned his sister that she would be receiving a visit from the dowager duchess in the afternoon. However, Meredith had already been vexed with him the previous day and he saw no point in giving her a reason to hide in her bedchamber all day.
“Meredith, may I present Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Solitea,” Ram said, using his brows
to give his sister a silent signal to cease her openmouthed gape at the older woman.
It was bloody disconcerting.
Patience was no help. When he needed her fiery spirit, the lady had chosen to play the role of the invisible servant. She quietly stood off to the left of Meredith and had yet to lift her gaze from the carpet. Ram was baffled. He did not know if she was angry because she had experienced her first climax with him or if her ire had something to do with him sending her away. Either way, he was damned, and Patience was planning to make him pay.
Ramscar shook his head over Everod’s unexpected appearance. Was he drunk? What was he doing, acting as escort for the duchess? Christ, the man gave new meaning to “flirting dangerously.” Solitea was likely to murder Everod on sight if he suspected the viscount was dallying with his mother.
Meredith roused herself from her stupor and curtsied. “Your Grace, you honor me. You must forgive my surprise. I confess, Ram was remiss and neglected to tell me that you intended to call on us.”
“I will have none of this ‘Your Grace’ business from you, my dear girl. Ram is family to me and mine. That makes you family as well,” the older woman chided with mock severity.
The dowager was the mother of Fayne Carlisle,
the Duke of Solitea. At eight and forty, the lady possessed a beauty that seemed timeless. Her daughter, Fayre, favored her mother in looks; however, both son and daughter were true Carlisles, having inherited the notable reddish brown hair. Sadly, the elder lady had lost her beloved duke last season. There had been rumors that the old duke had been rutting on top of his current mistress when his heart failed him. The family dismissed the suggestion as absurd, even though His Grace had been known by all as a faithless old rogue. The duchess had mourned the loss of her husband in her own fashion. She had spent the season and most of the summer in the loving company of two gentlemen who were young enough to be her sons.
Her son had been rather unsettled by it all. A private man, he had taken his father’s death harder than most would have foreseen. Fortunately, he had his new duchess to distract him. There was nothing typical about the Carlisles. It was one of the reasons that Ramscar enjoyed them so much.
“And who is this lovely shy creature?” the duchess said, beckoning to Patience. “Another sister?”
Everod rudely snorted. “Mayhap Ramscar has taken to running a Covent Garden nunnery,” he said, earning a menacing glare from his friend.
Meredith was too sheltered to understand that the viscount was referring to a brothel. Patience and
the dowager, however, seemed to immediately grasp his insinuation. The duchess laughed, but Patience gave Ram a somber look that neatly cut him to the quick.
Irritated, he smacked Everod on the back of his head. Ignoring his indignant yelp, Ram strode over to Patience. He gently took her by the elbow and guided her over to the duchess.
“Your Grace, allow me to present Miss Winlow.” He glanced at Meredith, and she timidly nodded. “Patience will be joining us for the season. I thought Meredith might be more comfortable having the daughter of one of our mother’s cherished friends as a companion.”
“Oh,” Her Grace said, giving him a shrewd glance.
There was a wealth of subtlety in his statement. By revealing an intimate connection to his family, Patience’s position had been elevated above that of a mere servant. On the other hand, the absence of her family implied a lack of social connections and wealth. Once the gossips circulated the particulars of her humble background, Ram was certain the news would discourage fortune hunters.
Patience gracefully curtsied. “Your Grace.” She did not try to engage the dowager in conversation. Considering Patience’s position, the introduction was enough.
Everod stepped forward. “Ramscar, I desire an introduction to Lady Meredith’s attractive companion as well.”
Damn that randy scoundrel!
Ram was reluctant to carry out the formal introductions. After what he had learned about Patience last evening, he was convinced she would be easy quarry for the viscount’s practiced charm.
“Miss Winlow, may I present Lord Everod,” Ram said brusquely. “Lord Everod is a notorious rake. Do not trust anything he says.”
“You wound me, Ramscar,” the other man said, seemingly annoyed by his friend. “Ladies, pray ignore Ram’s malicious claim. I’m harmless.”
Her expression enigmatic, Patience replied, “An honor, Lord Everod.” She curtsied.
Everod bowed respectfully and then stepped back. “The honor is mine, Miss Winlow. Such beauty and captivating grace so artfully arranged. I cannot blame Ramscar for wanting to keep you for himself.”
The duchess laughed gaily. Deliberately inserting herself between Patience and Everod, she said, “Beware of
les sauvages nobles,
Miss Winlow. Their devilry has broken countless hearts.” The duchess escorted Patience and Meredith the short distance to the sofa and motioned for both ladies to sit.
“You are cruel, madam!” Everod retorted, nudging
Ram to offer his defense. “You will scare these ladies with your flummery.”
“If I wanted to scare them, I would merely have to repeat some of the tales I have heard about you, Lord Ever
hard
!” The duchess waved the gentlemen off. “Leave us. The ball is days away, my house is in utter chaos, and I have much to discuss with Lady Meredith and Miss Winlow. We cannot be bothered with your flirtations, you mischievous man. Now go!”
Before Everod could argue, Ram took his friend by the arm and physically hauled him out of the drawing room. Sometimes his compulsive need to seduce every female that he encountered was tiresome. It was best that they depart; else Ram feared they would come to blows.
Meredith would be fine without him. What could possibly go wrong, leaving his sister and Patience alone with the duchess?
As the door shut behind them, Ram heard the older woman ask, “Miss Winlow, you seem familiar to me. Do I know your family?”
Everod shook off Ramscar’s fierce grip. “Does it pain you?”
Ram barely heard the question. He was wondering how Patience had responded to the duchess’s
innocent query. Meredith was unused to subterfuge. She was likely to panic if Patience did not keep her head. “Does what?” he asked absently.
“The stick shoved up your arse!” The viscount seized Ramscar by his coat and backed him up until he collided with the nearest wall. The mounted swords clattered with the impact. “Since when do you start cautioning ladies about my character—” Everod’s anger waned as a thought struck him like a thunderbolt. He released his hold on Ramscar. “Wait. This isn’t about me. This is about you. You want the blonde for yourself.”
Ram tugged on his wrinkled coat. If he admitted it, Everod would tease him mercilessly. He was too edgy to trust his response to the man’s taunts. “You are wrong. Miss Winlow is simply under my protection. I will not have you playing your seductive games with the young lady.”
His friend sneered, unimpressed by Ramscar’s posturing. “Have you considered that Miss Winlow might desire my attentions?”
Ram went cold at the thought. If he was refraining from putting his hands on Patience, then Everod could keep his bloody hands off her, too. Ram stepped forward until his and Everod’s faces were scarcely an inch apart. “Cross me, Everod, and so help me, you will feel the point of my sword.”
“Oh, good,” Holt Cadd, Marquess of Byrchmore,
drawled behind them. “It appears I have not missed all the fun, after all.”
“I highly doubt that you have met my parents, Your Grace.”
Patience and Meredith sat side by side on the sofa while the dowager admired the various knickknacks in the drawing room as she conducted her interview. The older woman’s questions were as subtle as the gaudy porcelain elephant she had clasped in her hands.
The duchess set down the elephant and gave Patience an arch look. “And why have you come to this conclusion, Miss Winlow?”
“Because my parents are dead, Your Grace,” Patience said tersely. She did not react to Meredith’s sorrowful cry of surprise. “These days they reside in loftier circles than polite society.”
The next time Lord Ramscar decided to invent a respectable family history for her, they had best work out all the details beforehand. Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Solitea, was immeasurably curious about Patience’s past. Meredith was offering no assistance. Patience’s young friend was practically mute. Oh, how Patience wished she could throttle the earl for abandoning them.
The older woman smiled at Patience’s spirited
retort. “I daresay I well deserved your sarcasm. Rudeness begets rudeness. Pray, forgive my curiosity, Miss Winlow. I am usually not one to pry. However, there is something about your face that brings to mind another …” She allowed her words to trail off. “Oh, bother! It will come to me one day.”
Was the dowager duchess acquainted with Patience’s parents? If so, her mother must have been thrilled to make such a connection. One’s position in polite society took precedence over wealth in her opinion. If Her Grace knew of her mother, Patience would have to tread carefully as she moved through society. She might even be forced to abandon her post if the lady’s memory improved with time.
Warily Patience watched the dowager duchess as she circled around the sofa until she faced her tense companions. “I have had enough of this house. What we need is some fresh air. Ladies, ready yourselves for an outing. I think a drive through Hyde Park is in order!”
“Blast you, Cadd! A few minutes more and Ram was going to oblige me by throwing the first punch,” Everod said, his tone dripping with disgust.
At five and twenty, Cadd was the youngest member of
les sauvages nobles
. An inch shorter than Everod, Cadd wore his dark brown hair long and
unfettered. When he was a youth, his good looks had a boyish prettiness that had placed him and his friends in the middle of countless fights. A broken nose at age sixteen had diminished his classical perfection, but the ladies of the
ton
did not seem to notice. There was always some unfortunate lady who found herself pursued by both Everod and Cadd. Over the years, the gentlemen’s unspoken competitiveness had greatly amused Ram and Solitea. At least, it was comical until Ram or Solitea was forced to separate the fighting pair. Everod had a nasty habit of provoking the marquess at every opportunity.
At the moment, Everod’s assessment of what their friend had interrupted was too close to the truth for comfort. Ram nodded at the marquess. “It is good to see you again, Cadd. Did you just walk through the door without waiting to be announced or do I have to reprimand Scrimm again for neglecting his duties?”
“Now you are picking fights with Scrimm?” the viscount said, coolly studying the tips of his nails on his left hand. “The man must be close to eighty. Who’s next? His elderly mother?”
Ram took a threatening step toward Everod.
Sensing trouble, Cadd said, “I’ll have you know that your man was dutifully at the door, watching over the ladies as they departed.”
Ram forgot all about murdering his friend as he
switched directions and walked toward Cadd. He should have never left Meredith and Patience alone with the duchess. Like her son, the lady was unpredictable. “Ladies? All three?”
Cadd was baffled by the grimness in his friend’s tone. “Naturally, unless you have a few others tucked away somewhere in the house. I greeted the duchess as she left the house with your sister and a Miss Winlow. Which reminds me, congratulations are in order. I knew that when properly motivated you would convince Lady Meredith to join you in London this season.” He smirked at the viscount. “Everod, you owe me one hundred pounds.”
Ramscar growled in frustration and marched by both startled men. “You actually wagered on my sister?”
“Cadd added it to the club’s betting book years ago,” Everod added provokingly. “I barely recall the particulars.”
Cadd appeared affronted by the insinuation. “I wagered on your success. If you want to hit someone, focus your ire on Everod. Sadly, he did not have much faith in your abilities.”
Disgusted with both of them, Ramscar headed for the door. Perhaps it was not too late to halt the ladies’ carriage.
The young marquess followed in his friend’s wake, unaware of his inner turmoil. “By the by, I must confess,
the blonde accompanying your sister is a fetching creature. Where the devil did you find her?”
Ramscar gritted his teeth at the innocent query. He remained silent until he strode into the center of the empty front hall. “Scrimm!”