True to her word, Meredith had been waiting for Patience on the stairs. Sitting on one of the steps, Meredith had been admiring the seashell Lord Halthorn had given her. She stood at the soft sound of Patience’s approach.
“What has happened?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“One of my brother’s friends, the Duke of Solitea, entered the breakfast room unannounced. He
mentioned that there had been a troubling incident at the ball, but he seemed reluctant to speak of it in front of me. They went into the library. My brother appeared an hour later to order Scrimm to send someone for a Bow Street Runner.” Meredith took a deep breath. “And you.”
The news did not bode well.
She touched Meredith on the arm, wanting to reassure her friend. “I am certain it is nothing.”
Patience descended the stairs and headed for the library.
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin before she knocked.
“Enter,” Ramscar said, his voice gruff and unwelcoming.
If Patience had hoped to glimpse her tender lover, she was about to be disappointed. When she walked into the library, she was confronted by two stern-faced gentlemen who were used to getting answers. She curtsied. “My lord, you sent for me?”
Both gentlemen rose from their chairs as she entered the room. Lord Ramscar had been seated at his desk, while the Duke of Solitea had casually propped his hip against the edge of the desk. She had evidently interrupted a serious conversation between the two gentlemen.
“Miss Winlow, thank you for your promptness. My apologies for disturbing you after our late
evening,” Ramscar said as he gestured for her to sit. “May I present a good friend of mine, Fayne Carlisle, Duke of Solitea.”
Looking up through lowered lashes, Patience demurely curtsied. In spite of his grim expression, the duke was another striking specimen of male perfection. His long cinnamon hair was a darker hue than his sister’s and tied in a queue at his nape. Approximately the same age as Ramscar, he stood three inches taller than his friend. Lacking the flirtatious demeanor of his other friends Lord Everod and Lord Byrchmore, the duke observed her through unfathomable green eyes.
“Your Grace. I had the pleasure of meeting your sister, Lady Fayre, and her husband at the ball last evening. The family resemblance is quite noticeable,” Patience said, pretending not to react to the tension in the room.
The duke’s expression did not soften at the mention of his family. She swallowed thickly as she sat down in the chair the earl had offered. “Has something happened?”
Ramscar and the duke exchanged glances. It was the earl who answered her question. “Regrettably, yes. One of the guests had a valuable necklace stolen last evening.”
Patience bit her lower lip as she digested the news. If the earl had placed his hand on her chest, he
would have been alarmed by its hammering tempo. “It is terrible news. Was her coach robbed on the drive home from the ball?”
The duke’s keen gaze was as unsettling as it was unrelenting. “The thief was brazen. He plucked the necklace from Lady Dewberry’s neck.”
Patience glanced away, wishing the victim had been anyone other than the Countess of Dewberry. The thief had superior taste. The necklace had caught Patience’s eye as well. It was exactly the sort of necklace the troupe would have stolen. Her breath caught in her throat. Patience glanced at Ramscar, silently urging him to meet her gaze.
He ruthlessly ignored her mute plea.
It was then that the knowledge seeped into her chaotic thoughts.
Both men were aware of her brief altercation with the countess.
“Lord Ramscar … Your Grace … am I being accused of this theft?” she asked, clasping her hands so tightly together that her knuckles were bloodless.
“No,” the earl angrily snapped.
The duke shot his friend an amused glance. The humor faded when the duke’s green gaze fixed on her face. “Naturally, everyone is concerned about the theft. Anyone who spoke with Lady Dewberry is being questioned.”
“Someone might have witnessed the theft or
noticed a stranger lingering near the countess,” Ramscar added, Patience supposed as a belated attempt to ease her concerns.
Again, His Grace looked askance at his friend. “There is that possibility.” The duke returned his attention back to her. “Miss Winlow, this is an awkward situation that has been presented to me. I regret that we did not first meet last evening. My sister spoke very favorably of you. Ram also vehemently defends your good character.”
Patience’s eyes became misty with tears. The earl’s postures conveyed his annoyance about the entire subject. However, he had yet to glance at her. She blinked furiously at the stinging moisture threatening to ruin her composure.
“Neither of you has asked, but I will tell you. I did not steal Lady Dewberry’s necklace,” Patience said, retrieving her handkerchief. She delicately sniffed.
Slightly uncomfortable that he had upset a lady his sister liked and Lord Ramscar considered under his protection, the duke shifted his stance. “The countess claims that you had seemed inordinately curious to know if the stones were genuine or paste.”
Patience shrugged negligently. “The workmanship was praiseworthy, even if its owner was not.”
The duke’s full lips twitched at her comment.
“Everod had mentioned the countess and her companions had greeted you warmly.”
She crossed her eyes upon hearing Lord Everod’s version of the incident. “Lady Dewberry sought me out, Your Grace. I personally wished she had not bothered.”
Now more than ever.
Patience rose from her chair, her head high. “If I am not about to be hauled off to the magistrate in chains, may I excuse myself?”
The Duke of Solitea nodded. “My apologies for the intrusion, Miss Winlow. Dewberry has been pestering my mother since his hysterical countess realized her necklace had vanished, and naturally I was unwillingly pulled into the affair. When his lady pointed an accusatory finger in your direction, Lord Dewberry was determined to have an audience with you.” The duke’s expression revealed that he had done Patience a favor by sparing her from that particular ordeal. “For the sake of avoiding bloodshed, I thought it best that I act on his behalf.”
“Then I wish you well on your hunt, Your Grace.” Unsmiling, she inclined her head toward Ramscar. “My lord.”
Patience left the library as swiftly as she could without arousing either man’s suspicion. Oh, how she despised that hateful Lady Dewberry! If Patience
had
taken the countess’s precious necklace,
she certainly would not have so boldly admired it in front of witnesses!
“Patience, wait!” Ramscar called after her.
She was in no mood to humor him. How could he have treated her so coldly after the passionate night they had shared?
Curse him, and her stupidity for trusting him!
“Did you not hear me?” He grabbed her arm and forced her to halt. “I told you to wait.”
Infuriated, she turned on him. “And I told you that I did not steal that rude lady’s necklace.” Patience poked her finger into his chest. “It appears neither one of us was paying attention.”
Disgusted, and more than a little hurt, she shrugged off his grip and marched toward the stairs. Patience squeaked when Ramscar spun her around and tossed her over his shoulder. Her forehead bounced against his back. She glanced up to see Meredith staring openmouthed on the stairs. The young duke strolled out of the library in time to see Patience’s humiliating position.
“Put me down, you heartless blackguard!” she growled.
“Christ, Ram,” His Grace shouted at his friend’s back. “That is no way to ease a lady’s fears.”
Ramscar failed to respond to the duke’s casual ribbing. He carried her into another room and kicked the door shut behind them.
Solitea likely thought Ramscar had lost his head.
Ram lowered Patience to her feet. She immediately retaliated by kicking him in the shins. Her skirts hampered her efforts and she screeched in frustration. “How dare you? Of all the most disrespectful, arrogant—”
“You refused to listen to me!” he roared at her. He rubbed his forehead with the knuckle of his thumb. Ram had brought her into a small anteroom next to the conservatory because it gave them some privacy.
“Your sister was on the stairs,” Patience hissed, and moved away from him.
Ram cringed. His actions of late could hardly be considered discreet. “I will explain my actions to her later. For now, I offer you an apology.”
Patience looked like she wanted to kick him again. “I do not want it.”
“Well, you have it just the same.” Ramscar risked her wrath by putting his hands on her again. “Damn it, I do not think you are a bloody thief!” He had been as stunned as Patience had clearly been when Solitea had shown up and told him about the theft.
Her anger faded into hurt. It tore at his conscience. “Now who is lying? You could not even look me in the eye.”
Truth be told, he had been livid when Solitea had
told him of Lady Dewberry’s accusation. “After what we had shared, I felt like the heartless blackguard you accused me of being for even summoning you for questioning.”
“Ramscar, I did not steal her necklace.” Patience did not pull away from him, for which he was grateful. “Ask your friend Lord Everod. He will tell you those women—”
“Are cold, jealous bitches,” Ramscar said fiercely, irritated that she believed his friend would staunchly defend her and he would not. “They sought you out, and cruelly reminded you of your inferiority. If you had told me what they had said to you, I would have ruthlessly ended their little games.”
Patience wearily closed her eyes. A pang of guilt thrust into his heart. He had been too rough and demanding last evening. Once he had taken her with his body, he had only thought of doing it again. When he had awoken a little after dawn with her curled against him, his first thought had been to resume their lovemaking. However, he had noticed the faint shadows under her eyes and had let her sleep. Now he regretted not waking her from her deep slumber.
“Meredith told me that a Bow Street Runner has been summoned.”
Ramscar’s inquisitive sister must have been eavesdropping when he had called for Scrimm. Perhaps he
should have a private chat with Meredith about her bad habits later. “At my request.” Ramscar pulled Patience into his arms. “Listen to me. I know you are innocent. If anyone has the audacity to accuse you publicly, I will let it be known that I will consider it a personal insult. If that does not silence tongues, the offender will face me on a dueling field.”
She shuddered and snuggled against his chest. She was aware that his father had died after a duel. It occurred to Ramscar that he might very well face his father’s fate if the situation escalated.
“I do not want you risking your life over a spiteful woman’s lie,” Patience whispered, not bothering to conceal her distress from him.
It heartened him to hear her concern. Minutes earlier, she was behaving as if she had planned to shoot him herself. He kissed the top of her head. “I intend to hire a Runner to assist in tracking down the real thief. Never fear, he will be caught and I will insist that Lady Dewberry apologizes for her insult.”
Patience’s laughter was muffled against his chest. “Now that I will look forward to.”
“Are you certain you wish to shop this afternoon?” Meredith said anxiously, following Patience as she headed for the shop.
“I have done nothing wrong, Meredith,” Patience
said, nodding at the gentleman who held the door for them. “Your brother and the duke have urged Lord Dewberry to silence his wife’s tongue, but I fear the damage might already be done. If I remain at the house and cower in my bedchamber, I will only seem guilty of the theft.”
“You are so brave,” her friend said, her genuine admiration obvious. “I feel like a coward in comparison.”
“Nonsense.” Meredith was thinking of the years she had hidden from the world at Swancott because of her scars. “I am no different than you. Everyone rises to the occasion when the cause is just.”
Meredith refused to let the matter rest. “I think you undervalue your abilities. You not only face your personal tribulation but generously shoulder the burdens of others.”
Ill at ease with the young woman’s undeserved praise, Patience pointed to a hat with three white downy plumes. “You should try that one on. I can think of three dresses that hat will complement.”
Meredith studied the plumes with a contemplative frown. “Very well. I believe I shall try on the one with the lace, as well.”
Patience stepped aside and watched as the store clerk eagerly moved in to assist her wealthy patron. As Patience had predicted, the hat with the white plumes was perfect for Meredith. With her shyly
conversing with the clerk, Patience strolled over to admire a simple straw bonnet with light blue ribbons. It was a fine piece, but she had no intention of purchasing it. Thanks to the earl’s generosity, her wardrobe rivaled that of his sister.