“No, no, this will not do,” a feminine voice snapped with frustration. “Where is the proprietor? I must speak to him immediately if this is the best you can offer me.”
“Mama, perhaps we should try another shop,” a younger female calmly suggested.
“Our goods are made of the highest quality, Lady Farnaly,” the clerk insisted.
Patience carefully set the bonnet she had been admiring down when she heard the woman’s name. Dear heavens, after all these year, it could not be? Patience had not even recognized her mother’s voice.
Fearing that he might be sacked, the clerk plucked the offensive hat from Lady Farnaly’s hands and backed away. “I will summon the proprietor as you have requested. I am certain with his knowledgeable assistance we will find something that exceeds your refined tastes, madam.”
Neither Lady Farnaly nor her young companion seemed to notice that they were being observed. It had been four years since Patience had glimpsed her mother and sister. Oh God, her sister! Deana had
already celebrated her sixteenth birthday. What a beautiful young lady she had become.
And her mother. At eight and thirty, she was a handsome woman. Unlike her daughters, who were both blondes, Lady Farnaly had hair that reminded Patience of polished walnut. Lady Farnaly had given her husband four children, and yet she was nearly as slender as Deana. At the moment, her mother’s lips were thinned with her displeasure and her expression was one Patience had experienced firsthand on countless occasions.
What if they recognized me?
The surprise of encountering her mother and sister had frozen Patience in place. Fear gave her the incentive to take a trembling step backward. With Meredith cheerfully chatting with the clerk behind Patience and the Farnalys ahead of her near the door, she felt her present and past were about to collide.
“Oh, Patience, you must come over here and try this hat on. It is absolutely frivolous,” Meredith called out to her.
Lady Farnaly glanced at Meredith, who was giggling at the silly confection on her head. Unexpectedly, Patience’s mother’s gaze shifted to
her
. Patience stiffened under the cool, impersonal appraisal, unable to move. Her mother’s irritated expression did not waver as her keen regard swept over Patience, assessing everything from her distraught expression to
the quality of her shoes. It was fortuitous that the clerk assisting Lady Farnaly returned with the elderly proprietor. Patience’s mother looked away and began chastising the gentlemen about a hat she had previously purchased.
If she had recognized Patience, Lady Farnaly had chosen not to acknowledge their connection. Still reeling from the incident, Patience strode over to Meredith.
“You must try on this hat!” Meredith said gaily.
“Another time,” Patience grimly replied. She refused to look over at the Farnalys to see if the ladies were observing them.
Her friend’s humor fled when she saw Patience’s face. “Is something wrong? Did someone say something unseemly?” Meredith removed the hat from her head and exchanged it for the bonnet she had been wearing.
Patience had to get out of this shop before Lady Farnaly began to ponder her resemblance to her elder daughter. She took Meredith by the hand. “We must leave immediately.”
“But—” Meredith glanced wistfully at the hat with the white plumes.
Surrendering gracefully, she allowed her friend to drag her out of the shop.
Four days had elapsed since Patience had encountered her mother and sister in the shop. Day by day, Patience relaxed, eventually convincing herself that Lady Farnaly had not recognized her. When Meredith had questioned Patience about her strange reaction at the shop, she lied, claiming she had glimpsed one of Lady Dewberry’s friends. Both Patience and Meredith agreed that Ramscar did not need to be told of the incident.
Their evenings had been filled with amusements. One night they enjoyed the theater. Thankfully, Miss Grassi was not one of the players. Another night, they ate boxed suppers at Vauxhall and watched the fireworks. The third night, Ramscar abandoned Patience and Meredith for an evening at one of his clubs. Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Solitea, took Patience and Meredith under her wing. They went to three balls that evening. Lady Fayre and her brother’s wife, Kilby Carlisle, Duchess of Solitea, joined them on their adventures. At each engagement, the Knowdens and the Carlisles were silently showing their support for Patience. Their blind faith in her honesty humbled her. No one spoke out against her, not even Lady Dewberry, who had also been present at most of the balls Patience had attended. Of course, there had been a few speculative stares.
Especially when the thief boldly struck again and again. The villain seemed well acquainted with the
ton
and the various houses he managed to enter unnoticed. Although no one mentioned it, Patience had begun to notice a disturbing pattern. Many of the thefts occurred at balls Patience had also attended.
As for Ramscar, one might accuse him of being remiss in his duties as her lover. She had expected him come to her again, but their late evenings had
kept them apart. Patience had been disappointed the previous evening when he had abandoned Meredith and her for one of his clubs. However, she was Meredith’s companion, not his. It was not her place to complain.
This evening when Meredith pleaded exhaustion and expressed a desire to pass on a late supper, Patience was secretly thrilled when Ramscar told his sister to go home without them. She barely recalled what they had eaten, because all she could think about was that Ramscar was conspiring to spend a few hours alone with her.
Home at last, Patience climbed the stairs without checking to see if he was trailing after her.
“Come to me,” Ramscar commanded huskily. His foot was poised on the first step.
Patience turned back. She leaned her hip against the railing and gave him a slow grin. There was something undeniably predatory about his gaze. A few kisses and an empty bed were not going to satisfy him this evening.
“Catch me,” she replied saucily. Before he could react, she hopped up onto the stair railing and slid straight into his arms.
Ramscar caught her and gave her a hard shake. “You mad creature! What would you have done if I had not caught you?”
She slipped her fingers into his cravat and tugged.
“I would have been very, very cross with you, my lord,” Patience said, smoothing out the long ends.
He tipped his head back and laughed. “Then I am a fortunate man, because the last thing I want is a troublesome wench in my arms.” Ramscar nuzzled her earlobe and lowered her to her feet.
Patience unbuttoned the tiny buttons at his throat. “A pity. Troublesome wenches can be so
stimulating
.” She rolled up onto her toes and kissed him full on the mouth. Dancing away, she ascended several steps. “If you are quick enough to catch one,” she called back over her shoulder as she raced up the stairs.
Ramscar muttered something under his breath. “Slow down before you break your ankle.” He charged up the stairs, a mischievous glint in his hazel green eyes.
She expected to lose this chase. In fact, she would have been disappointed if she had won. Laughing, she made it to the first landing, and as she had hoped, he was close at her heels. Seconds later, his arm hooked her waist and he dragged her backside to his front.
“Patience … Patience … what am I to do with you?” he whispered in her ear.
She turned her head to the side and caressed his jaw with her hand. “Why, anything you like, my lord,” she whispered back.
His hand slipped into her bodice. He teased her left nipple until it puckered. “‘Anything’ covers quite a bit of naughty territory, does it not?”
Patience wiggled her backside tantalizingly against his groin. “Depends, I suppose … on how quick you are on your feet.”
She broke free and dashed up the next set of stairs, assuming they would retire to his bedchamber. Her room would not do because it was next to Meredith’s. For some reason Patience doubted either of them would be inclined to subdued lovemaking.
She wanted to hear his guttural roar when his release vanquished the last of his control.
Ramscar’s hand caught her ankle, forcing her to bend over and grasp one of the steps overhead. He expertly rolled her onto her back and dragged her toward him until she was positioned between his legs. His actions had pushed her skirt up to her hips, revealing her shapely legs.
He caged her with his arms. “Where are you going?” He glanced down and noted her exposed legs.
Slightly out of breath, she laid her head back against a step. “Your bedchamber.” The edges of the steps were digging into her back, but the position was not the most uncomfortable she had endured.
His hazel green eyes looked almost black in the shadows. Even so, she could sense his amusement. “How very accommodating of you.”
Patience grinned up at him cheekily. “I thought so.”
Ramscar nudged her, rolling her back onto her stomach. He knelt beside her, his hand stroking from the back of her knee to the curves of her buttocks. “However, why should I deny myself when I could take you right here?”
She started to get up on all fours. He immediately pushed her back down. “Here? For heaven’s sake, you cannot be serious?”
The rustling sound of him opening the flap on his breeches proved otherwise. Patience looked back and even in the dim light she could see that he was very aroused. “And you call me mad! What if someone hears us?” she whispered.
He moved behind her, taking a moment to push her skirt and petticoats higher. “I will try to resist shouting your name, but your delectable body tends to make me unruly,” he murmured, guiding his manhood into her.
“Perhaps I like hearing your yell. Your bed—” Her breath came out as a hiss when he sank into her. No man had ever felt so good inside her. She could almost forget they were making love on the stairs.
“No.” Not wasting a moment, Ramscar lifted her hips and moved with unhurried strokes. “I need you now, Patience. I refuse to wait.”
She liked this eager, aggressive side of his nature.
Usually he was so restrained. The knowledge that she could shatter his control was an addictive aphrodisiac, much like his virile, handsome body.
“Faster,” Patience quietly urged, pushing against him in an attempt to alter his pace.
“Greedy, are we?” Ramscar kissed her nape.
The hand on her hip slid diagonally to the front, seeking the curly nest of hair between her legs. She bit her lip to keep from crying out when he found the small hidden nubbin nestled within her feminine folds.
“Have I mentioned how much I adore your scent? A hint of clove mixed with the heady musk of your arousal. A faint whiff, and my cock stiffens in response. You were made for fucking, sweet Patience.”
She was not offended by his crude carnal words. It only proved how aroused and reckless the earl was feeling. The revelation heightened her desire. That familiar warm heat she craved pooled in her belly. When she felt a gush of honeyed wetness from within her sheath it was Ramscar who softly groaned.
“That’s it. Go on and sing for me, my little temptress,” he said, punctuating his words with deep thrusts as his thumb worked its magic on her small, sensitive nubbin. “Just for me.”
Patience buried her face into her sleeve to muffle any sound. Behind her closed eyelids, light blossomed like fireworks in her head, shimmering
explosions of silver, red, and gold. The heat sizzled from her head down to her curled toes.
She was not alone.
Ramscar hugged her fiercely and began pumping himself frantically into her. Still highly sensitive from her release, she felt his manhood jolt as hot seed exploded deep within her womb.
“You are worried about him.”
Patience did not bother feigning confusion. She was concerned about Ramscar. “A natural reaction, do you not think? Especially since your brother has issued a challenge on my behalf.”
Damnable savage! Why did all men believe violence satisfied all offenses?
She should have suspected something was wrong the night he had left them to visit one of his clubs.
He and his friends had been quietly taking care of the preparations for a duel. The next night he had deliberately sought an assignation with her. He had made wild passionate love to her on the stairs and then had carried her up to his bedchamber, where he spent the night devoting himself to the task of proving to her that his indifference in public was a flimsy attempt to dissuade anyone from accusing him that he lacked impartiality about Patience’s connection to the jewelry thefts. In truth, he privately confessed to her, he had lost all objectivity where she was concerned.
He should have expected that he would not be able to keep Patience and his sister from hearing about the duel. Ramscar rarely felt the need to defend his honor on the grassy commons, so the news of his challenge and the reasons for it were hotly debated within the
ton
.
Ramscar refused to discuss the details of the duel with either Meredith or Patience. Tearfully, she had yelled at him that she did not care what anyone said behind her back. Her pleas for him to withdraw the challenge were ignored. Before he had retired for the evening, Ramscar had arrogantly ordered both ladies to leave the house the next day. They were supposed to conduct themselves in public as they would any other day.
Only this was not a typical afternoon. According
to Scrimm, Ramscar had left the house before dawn and they had not received a single note from him. Patience was worried. If he had been hurt, she would never forgive herself.
Opening her lilac-and-white-striped parasol, she idly twisted the long handle against her shoulder. “I do not understand why we are here at the park. What if your brother returns while we are out?”
Instead of going to the park, Patience and Meredith should have called on his friends Lord Everod and Lord Byrchmore. They likely stood as his seconds, so they would know Ramscar’s fate. Perhaps they had carried him unconscious to one of their residences while a surgeon had been summoned. Patience’s heart wrenched at the horrible thought. Needless to say, she did not share her depressing thoughts with her companion.
“I must confess I am not enjoying this walk any more than you,” Meredith said, reaching up to adjust her bonnet as a couple passed them, so they did not notice her facial scars. The gesture was habitual rather than deliberate. “However, my brother has done so much for me and he demands little in return. If he felt us being seen together on a public outing was important, then I feel we must abide by his request. Even if it does seem absurd.”
Patience thought that she understood what had prompted Ramscar into making the odd request. It
had nothing to do with keeping up appearances, as Meredith believed. The earl did not want his sister to be at home if his seconds returned with his corpse. Their mother had been driven to madness by the sight of her dead husband. Ramscar did not want his sister to suffer needlessly. As usual, he thought only of protecting his family, not of himself.
Her thoughts tumultuous, Patience did not immediately recognize the couple approaching them. When the lady and her male companion held Patience’s gaze and smiled, she realized she should have trusted her instincts and left London.
“Patience. My God, is that truly you?” Sir Russell said, crossing in front of Meredith and forcing her and Patience to halt.
The surprise and pain she saw in his expression made her yearn to embrace him. The vivid memory of his harsh rejection and her years of pretending to be anyone other that Patience Farnaly prevented her from moving forward.
Impulsively he reached out and touched her on the arm as if he was uncertain she was real. “When your mother told me that you were here in London, Daughter, I thought she was mistaken.”
Meredith’s wary gaze flickered from the older couple to her friend. “Patience?” Her friend obviously was recalling the afternoon when Patience had told the dowager duchess that her parents were dead.
“I fear, my lord, that your lady is gravely mistaken,” Patience said, fighting to keep her expression perfectly blank. “I am not your daughter. Come, Lady Meredith.”
Sir Russell was visibly staggered by Patience’s rejection. “What’s this? You deny knowing us?” Unshed tears gleamed in his eyes.
“Enough of this nonsense, Daughter,” Lady Farnaly said crisply. “I do not fully comprehend the games you have been playing, but you will cease your mischief straightaway.”
Playing games.
Was that how her mother had explained away her elder daughter’s absence?
Four years had passed, and her mother had changed very little. So she had learned Meredith’s name and her connection to the Earl of Ramscar. Patience was not fooled. Her mother was not eager to reacquaint herself with her long-lost daughter. Lady Farnaly desired an introduction to the Knowdens.
“I play no games, my lady. I am dead earnest in my denial,” Patience said chillingly.
“Madam, your name if you please,” Meredith spoke up before Patience could draw her away. “I am Lady Meredith. My brother is the Earl of Ramscar.”
Patience closed her eyes, unwilling to watch the
life and friendships she had come to treasure shatter into useless wreckage.
“Forgive our rudeness, Lady Meredith,” Patience’s father said swiftly. “It was the shock of seeing our daughter again. So many years have passed without word from her that we feared her to be dead.”
“I beg you to forgive my husband and our neglectful daughter. We are the Farnalys,” Patience’s mother interjected, since Sir Russell was still flustered by his daughter’s presence. “This is my husband, Sir Russell. I am Lady Farnaly. And
you
clearly are acquainted with our daughter.”
“A pleasure to meet you both.” Meredith turned to Patience and whispered, “I do not understand. I thought your family was dead?”
“They are,” Patience said grimly. She raised her chin and addressed her parents. “I am sorry for your loss, Sir Russell and Lady Farnaly. However, I am not your daughter. My last name is Winlow. I am an actress by profession. Of late, I am Lady Meredith’s hired companion.”
“Patience!” exclaimed her friend for deviating from the tale they had told the
ton
.
What tale they told no longer mattered. Patience’s parents had ruined everything!
“I am no one of consequence,” Patience said pointedly to her mother.
Taking Meredith firmly by the arm, Patience walked away from her parents.
“Ram!”
Meredith ran toward him, hugging him fiercely when they collided. “I was so worried about you! Patience and I followed your orders. We strolled for what seemed like hours at the park. However, when we returned to the house and there was no message from you …” She pressed the side of her head to his chest and listened to his beating heart. “I was beginning to think something tragic had occurred.”
He stroked her hair, relishing his sister’s unexpected show of affection. “Oh, sweetie, I told you not to worry. As I had guessed, Lord Bently was a coward. The gentleman hastily offered his apologies as soon as I demonstrated my abilities with a pistol. I was never in any danger,” he lied, feeling she needed reassurance rather than the truth.
Ram had never questioned his skills. He was exceedingly competent with a sword or pistol. However, a nervous opponent was a dangerous one. There was always the risk Bently might have cheated or discharged his pistol by accident.
“Where is Patience?” Ram asked, carefully disentangling himself from Meredith’s clinging embrace. He had thought of Patience often during the
early morning hours. Her drawn, pale face and tormented blue eyes had haunted him. He could still hear her tearful voice pleading with him to withdraw his challenge.
“I beg of you. Please do not face him. I would rather face a dozen scandals than have your blood on my hands.”
“Upstairs. When we returned from our walk, she asked not to be disturbed. This day was trying for both of us.” Meredith moved away from him and glanced upstairs to confirm that they were not being overheard.
He scowled at her actions. “What is it?”
His sister returned to his side. “Something odd happened when we were at the park,” she whispered. “A couple approached us. They introduced themselves as Sir Russell and Lady Farnaly.”
“Their names are unfamiliar to me. Did they insult you or Patience?”
“No.” Meredith paused, uncertain how to break the staggering news to him. “Ram, they claimed to be Patience’s parents.”
“Ridiculous. Patience told me that she had been on her own since she was fourteen. A gently reared lady does not abandon her family for the uncertain life of the stage. No father would permit it.” On the other hand, Patience had fit into Ram’s and Meredith’s lives with such ease that it had been impossible
for him to think of her as anything less than his equal. “How did Patience react?”
“Naturally, she denied knowing them. Even so, she was visibly upset by the encounter. She could offer no excuse for their outrageous claims, except that she must bear some resemblance to their dead daughter. When we arrived at the house, she pleaded a megrim and I suggested that a nap might restore her spirits. I promised to wake her on your return. She was very upset with you, and the chance meeting with the Farnalys added to her distress.”
Was it merely mistaken identity or had Patience been keeping a few secrets from him? Ram needed to see Patience.
Immediately.
“Where are you going?” his sister asked, chasing after him as he swiftly climbed the stairs. “You cannot possibly believe that Patience lied to us. For what possible reason would she deny being a gentleman’s daughter?”
“I do not know.” Ram sensibly avoided glancing at the spot where he had shoved up Patience’s skirts and had thoroughly plundered her soft, willing body. “I am certainly interested in hearing the lady explain away the coincidence of the Farnalys’ daughter sharing her looks and her name. Aren’t you?”
Ram pounded his fist against her door. There
was no reassuring sound to greet him on the other side. He knocked again. “Patience. Open the door.”
Silence.
Meredith stared solemnly at the closed door. “Ram, she could just be sleeping.”
He was not as optimistic.
Pulling on the latch, he pushed open the door and confirmed his bleak suspicions.
The room was empty.
For an independent lady, Patience was a wretched creature.
Wholly alone, she sat in the middle of the bed she had procured from the innkeeper for the night. Without a servant or protector, she had taken a risk asking for a room. The impertinent stare the innkeeper gave her confirmed that she might have trouble if she trusted only the lock. Bluffing, she told the odious man that her husband had been delayed because of the torrential rainstorm and that she expected His Lordship later. Once she was alone in the room, she had dragged a heavy chair in front of the door. If the innkeeper or anyone else thought she was easy prey, she had a knife in her satchel to convince him otherwise.
Patience sniffed, cursing the storm that had stranded her ten miles outside of London. The pretty
clouds that she had observed on her walk with Meredith had overwhelmed the sky and darkened. The rain had started to sprinkle when Patience walked away from the Knowden house. A few miles into her journey, lightning arced across the blackened sky and the wind surged, shaking the cramped compartment of the stagecoach. Before long, the roads had become impassable. Nearly blinded by the sheets of rain falling from the sky, the coachman had whipped the frightened team of horses, urging them forward until the inn appeared on the horizon. Patience knew she should be grateful they had found the inn at all. The alternative was not worth dwelling on.
This was not one of her grander escapes, she thought gloomily.
Oh, slipping out of the Knowden household had been ridiculously easy. Meredith trusted Patience. She even seemed willing to believe Patience’s claims that she did not know the Farnalys. Poor, gullible Meredith. By now, she and Ramscar must be wondering what had happened to their hired companion.
If he returned home at all.
Patience stifled the nagging fear. No, the earl was fine. With all the weapons mounted on the walls of his library, the man must have learned how to use one or two of them. He loved his sister too much to recklessly throw away his life for an unknown actress’s tarnished reputation.
Blast it all, this was her parents’ fault!
That day in the shop, Patience’s mother had been content to forget she had an elder daughter until she recognized her companion as a lady of importance. Suddenly brimming with maternal love, Lady Farnaly was willing to forgive her wayward child? Why? Patience’s lip curled in contempt. Her mother’s change of heart had little to do with forgiveness or love. With a connection to the Earl of Ramscar, she finally discovered something redeemable in Patience.