“Oh dear, did you really think I would permit you to become his countess?” Phoenix taunted, constricting his grip until she cried out again. “Not while I live, my sweet pigeon. I hope Ramscar is present when your cold corpse is being cut down. On your behalf, Deidra wrote a touching note in which you confessed your heinous crimes and begged the earl’s forgiveness for shaming him. To avoid further scandal, you told him, you planned to kill yourself. He naturally will find your tragic note too late for him to save you from your desperate act.”
“He will never believe I willingly killed myself.”
“It matters little to me. I will be gone, and you will be dead. If it amuses him, the earl can spend the rest of his days in quiet contemplation, wondering if you truly took your own life or if you died by foul means. A fitting punishment, do you not think?”
Patience peered closely into Phoenix’s face. What she saw terrified her. There was no madness gleaming from his brown eyes. No, Julian Phoenix was quite sane. In his cold, manipulative mind he had reasoned that she had goaded him to this mortal conclusion. His dispassionate expression revealed he was indifferent to the task. No plea for mercy or cunning lie would persuade him from his goal.
He grabbed her upper arms from behind and tried to slowly walk her to the ornate façade. Patience stiffened in his arms. She was not some docile lamb who would blindly accept her captor’s dictates. He had called her a troublesome baggage. She did not want to disappoint him. Flailing her bound arms wildly, she fought back, knowing her life literally depended on her actions.
“Damn you!” he growled; her vigorous disruptive movements were throwing him off balance.
Unfortunately, Phoenix was heavier and stronger. Despite her efforts, he was inching her forward. The rope around her neck became tauter as they neared the front of the box. “No. No!” she screamed, kicking at his legs.
She did not want to die. The man seemed impervious to her attacks. One foot connected with the façade, and in a desperate attempt to free herself from his hold she pushed off the paneled surface with her leg, sending them stumbling backward.
The rope was jerked hard and she choked against the sudden constriction. Fighting to keep her balance, she slipped her fingers under the rope and pulled. The noose widened with surprising ease.
There is not much time … .
Bumping against Phoenix, she struggled with the noose, hoping to ease it over her head before she lost her advantage.
“No.” As soon as he realized she was succeeding in freeing herself from the noose, he seized the rope and tried to pull it back down. “Damn your eyes. Stop! You are not escaping me so easily.”
It was a battle she refused to lose. She worked one side of the loop over her head before he could decrease the diameter of the noose. The moment the rope was away from her throat, she deliberately went limp and dropped to the floor.
Phoenix was suddenly grappling with rope and empty air.
“No!” he roared in fury. “Cease this defiance, you silly bitch! You cannot win. You are going over the façade even if I have to pick you up and toss you over the side.”
“Patience!” a male voice echoed from below.
Ramscar
.
A sob bubbled in her throat. Crouched down, she had never been so grateful to hear his voice.
Julian Phoenix turned away from her as they
heard the sounds of other people entering the building.
Patience did not hesitate. Rising up like a vengeful Fury, she used her entire body to shove Phoenix. Her thighs slammed against the façade, halting her momentum forward. Julian Phoenix reached and found only air. She heard the outrage and denial in his scream until his body smashed onto the floor below, silencing him abruptly.
She peered over the edge. There was a chance he could have survived the fall. The awkward position of his limbs and the odd angle of his head revealed that he had managed to break his neck. A bright red pool of blood expanded around Phoenix’s head, eerily reminding Patience of a halo.
She turned her back on the scene below.
“Patience!”
Ramscar charged at her and scooped her into his arms. He hugged her so fiercely she could not speak. “Do you have any notion what you have put me through? Christ, I thought I lost you!” He pressed a harsh kiss to her mouth.
Oh, how it hurt! Her lip was too tender for his rough, affectionate kiss. Nevertheless, it was pain she would gladly endure.
Everod appeared behind them. “Is she hurt? Should I send someone for a physician?”
Patience touched the side of Ramscar’s face. “I am
a little bruised, but I am fine. Please,” she pleaded softly, “can we just go home?”
Not trusting his unruly emotions, Ramscar abruptly nodded. With her cheek resting on his strong shoulder, he carried her out of the theater.
Ram carried her into the town house. Although Everod had good-naturedly teased Ram for his budding romantic inclinations, Patience had not protested. Perhaps, like him, she had been so shaken by what had almost happened that she loathed to be parted from him.
Scrimm greeted the trio at the door. “I see you recovered your lady, my lord. I trust you will not be so neglectful next time.”
At his butler’s harmless ribbing Ram winced. He was partly to blame for what had occurred. If he had not been distracted by his friends, she would not have been able to slip out of the house unnoticed.
Patience stirred in his arms, prepared to offer him a defense.
“Do not bother,” he murmured into her ear as they crossed the foyer to the stairs. “It won’t help.”
The fete had ended the moment Lady Dewberry, Lady Perinot, and Miss Nottige sought him out with an outrageous tale about Patience strolling about with a small fortune in stolen jewelry cradled against her bosom. He had stared at the glittering evidence in their hands and refused to believe their lies.
“Ram! Patience!” Meredith took the stairs at a quick pace. Lord Halthorn followed in her wake.
She gave both Ram and Patience an unwieldy embrace. “I am so pleased my brother found you before Mr. Phoenix could have harmed you. If another minute had passed, I vow I would have collapsed into a fit of vapors!” Belatedly, Meredith took a closer look at her friend’s bruised face. “Oh dear, Patience … your face … does it hurt much?”
“Hardly at all,” she lied bravely for Ram’s sister’s benefit.
On the journey back to the house, Patience had told him and Everod what had transpired between
her and Julian Phoenix. They had arrived at the town house before Ram had had the opportunity to explain how he had learned her whereabouts in such a timely fashion. It was simple to deduce by her slight frown that Patience was baffled by his sister’s knowledge of Julian Phoenix. They still had much to discuss.
A soft feminine cry had everyone glancing up to the next landing. With tears in her eyes, the Dowager Duchess of Solitea applauded the earl. “Hurry, my darlings,” she called out to the others in the drawing room. “Ramscar has returned!”
Solitea appeared next to his mother, holding his sleeping daughter in his arms. His duchess peeked from behind her husband and grinned. “Well done, my lord.”
“Where is Cadd?” Everod asked, continuing to climb the stairs.
Lord Halthorn responded to the viscount’s query. “He has yet to return from his errand.” Halthorn glanced meaningfully at Patience.
The lady in Ram’s arms was a trifle overwhelmed by her homecoming. Unwilling to let the others see her tears, she pressed her face into his neck. A lady who had long believed that she was alone in the world, whether she wanted a family or not, she had been adopted by the odd characters that made up his family.
“Ram, the poor girl is simply done in,” the dowager duchess said. Patience’s battered and rumpled appearance had roused her motherly instincts. “What she needs is some fortifying tea.”
“And something to eat,” Meredith added as she reached out and smoothed her friend’s tangled blond tresses. “Are you hungry, Patience? Or would you rather just rest?”
“Oh, Ram,” Patience whispered despairingly against his neck.
He appreciated everyone’s concern, but Patience needed some privacy if she was to regain her composure. “Duchess, tea sounds heavenly. I will leave the refreshments in your competent hands. We will join you later in the drawing room, after Patience has had a chance to change into a clean dress.”
Solitea nodded approvingly. “Do not hurry on our account. See to your lady. Now that Everod has returned, he can regale everyone with his most recent exploits.” The duke disappeared in the direction of the drawing room. Ram could hear the dowager making faint cooing noises at the sleeping infant.
His friend’s petite duchess eagerly pounced on the salacious topic of the viscount’s love life. “Everod, you wicked man, are the rumors true?”
“Is what true?” Everod tersely replied.
Not offended by his insolent tone, she looped her
arm through his and led him away. Over her shoulder, she winked at Ramscar. “Oh, someone told me that you have been included in the memoirs of a particular lady. The gossips go on to say …”
Her Grace’s voice faded as the distance between them increased. A minute later, Everod’s booming laughter echoed throughout the halls.
Damn it all, what new mischief had Everod gotten himself into?
Lord Halthorn placed a possessive arm on his future wife. “Come, Meredith. I find myself curious to hear the rumors circulating about Everod, too.”
When everyone had departed, Patience lifted her face from Ram’s neck and met his steady gaze.
“We have unfinished business between us, Miss Winlow.”
Dressed only in her chemise, Patience sat demurely on her bed while she watched Ramscar twist a sodden cloth over a washbowl. Since he had carried her out of the abandoned theater, he had been gentle and understanding. She knew him well enough to know the chaos of emotions simmering just below the surface.
She was prepared for his anger.
Ramscar returned to her and sat beside her on the bed. “Tilt your chin up.” She complied and he
pressed the cool cloth against the colorful bruise along her jaw where Phoenix had slapped her.
“You promised you would not run from me again, Patience,” Ram said, grimacing when she hissed as he touched an extremely tender area. “Imagine my surprise when Lady Dewberry and her friends came to me with a crazy tale about you being the thief Bow Street has been searching for and you, my sweet bride-to-be, had conveniently vanished to add credibility to their story.”
While she had expected and deserved his anger, she was not braced for the hurt she had caused him. “Lady Dewberry and Lady Perinot despise me. Miss Nottige is their loyal sycophant. I knew they would gleefully run straight to you with a—”
“Damn it, Patience, why didn’t
you
run to me?” He pulled away from her and returned to the washstand. She listened to the musical sounds of water droplets as they struck the surface of the water in the bowl. “If you had come to me and told me what had happened, you would have never walked into the trap Phoenix had set for you.” Just thinking about the perilous position Patience had placed herself in was enough to ignite his fury again.
“I was so frightened when I awoke and recognized the jewelry. Honestly, my first thought was to find you. I went into the informal parlor to see if I could signal you from a window, but I encountered
Lady Dewberry and her cronies—” Patience forgot all about her explanation as his statement penetrated her practiced defense. “What do you mean, a trap?”
“I am referring to your good friend Miss McNiell. You introduced me to the lady at Lord Powning’s house, if you recall,” Ramscar said snidely. Despite his harsh tone, when he sat back down and continued his ministrations, his touch was gentle. “Scrimm prides himself on personally knowing his staff. When he noticed an unfamiliar maid slipping into one of the rooms, he was suspicious. With the help of several footmen, he detained the maid so I might question her.”
Phoenix had mentioned that he and Deidra had been slipping in and out of residences all season as either servants or guests. Patience closed her eyes, unwilling to meet Ramscar’s gaze. As usual, Phoenix’s plan had been flawless. He had sent Deidra into the Knowdens’ residence. When Patience had retired to her room for a short nap, the young woman had seized the opportunity. While Patience had slept, Deidra had placed the stolen jewelry on the bed and covered the evidence with a blanket. Just as the couple had anticipated, Patience had panicked when she saw the jewelry. Had Deidra observed her from a discreet distance and gloated? Her stumbling upon Lady Dewberry and her snobbish companions must have seemed like providence to her former friend, because
it was the impetus that sent Patience blindly fleeing the house and into Julian Phoenix’s malevolent embrace.
“For two years, I have lived with the guilt that I was partially to blame for Julian Phoenix’s death,” she said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “It was an accident—”
“So you said the night at the inn. Fortunately, Miss McNiell provided me with the unsavory details that you had carefully omitted from your story. I know that Phoenix had planned to sell you to a Lord Grattan and there had been a fight. You impaled him with a hay fork and ran off, believing he was dead.”
She gasped at Ramscar’s accusation. “I did
not
impale him. If you must know, he impaled himself on the hay fork when we were struggling.” She abruptly ceased her defense. “Oh, what does it matter? Now I am responsible for his death.”
Patience could not deny that she had intentionally pushed Phoenix off the balcony. Ramscar and Everod knew the truth and viewed her actions as a last desperate attempt to save herself. Perhaps they were right. Phoenix would have taken both himself and Patience over the edge, rather than surrender to the authorities.
She said nothing for a few minutes, allowing Ramscar’s admission to sink in. He knew
everything
. There were no more secrets between them. It was a liberating sensation.
Finally, she said, “For someone who had been caught trespassing, Deidra was awfully chatty.”
“Miss McNiell was impressed with my considerable charm,” he said dryly. Ramscar dabbed the cloth against the slight swelling on Patience’s lower lip.
His not-so-subtle evasion only heightened her curiosity. Deidra was immune to a gentleman’s charm, unless he had the proper coin to entice her. Patience wondered what threats Ramscar had used to gain Deidra’s cooperation. She highly doubted the young woman had regretted sending Patience off to her death.
Another thought occurred to her. “By the by, where is my dear former friend?”
“Explaining her part in Phoenix’s schemes to the magistrate,” Ramscar replied, not particularly concerned about the lady’s fate.
Patience gave him a shy, hesitant glance. “I suppose you are angry with me for running off.”
“It would have spared you the colorful bruises you have on your face,” he said, tossing aside the damp cloth.
A disheartened Patience felt her lower lip become more pronounced.
He tipped her chin up so she met his level stare. “No. That is not quite true. You believed the man had died from his wounds. Even if you had told me the circumstances surrounding Phoenix’s death,
neither one of us would have considered a dead man was behind the thefts. Nor would the truth have stopped Miss McNiell from baiting the trap with the stolen jewelry.”
Patience leaned against him, savoring his warmth. His calm acceptance of what she considered one of the biggest debacles of her life was a balm for her soul.
Ramscar waited several beats before adding, “That said, I am slightly annoyed with you for not having faith in me. I would have taken your secrets to the grave.”
Patience sighed. His calm acceptance was inordinately brief.
“I know it now. I cannot say that I did yesterday. You have to understand something about me, Ramscar,” she said, holding his hand. “I have been looking after myself for so long I do not—”
“Want a man fussing and coddling you. My protective nature threatens your independence,” he said bitterly.
“Wrong!” Patience turned to him. Very tenderly she framed his beautiful face with her hands. “I crave it. I just did not trust myself. If I became dependent on you, and then you cast me aside, I was not certain I could manage on my own again.”
Or survive losing his love.
She let her arms drop at her sides. Her eyes filled
at the thought that her fears might push Ramscar away for good if she did not learn to manage them.
“Cast you aside? I want to marry you, lady!” he roared at her.
Patience had the strange urge to giggle. She was an odd creature to find comfort in his bellowing.
“Hear me well, Miss Patience Rose Farnaly Winlow. I see you clearly, flaws and all, and I still want to marry you. I love you.”
Her nose itched and burned from her welling tears. “I love you, too.”
Ramscar nodded arrogantly. “I have waited an eternity for you to say those words and mean them. Will you marry me?”
She smiled and then groaned at the pain. “Yes. I would be honored to marry you tomorrow.”
“Today.”
Patience was appalled by his suggestion. She looked hideous. “I beg your pardon?”
He grinned down at her, reminding her of a hungry wolf. “You heard me. I don’t want to wait.”
Patience thought of his friends and family waiting for them in the drawing room. As she grew suspicious, her eyes narrowed. “You planned this all along?”
Ramscar looked sheepishly at her. “Not exactly. The idea struck me earlier while I was out in the gardens. I was waiting for you to appear and, I realized,
was impatient to start my life with you. I’ve already procured the special license, so I asked Cadd to find a clergyman willing to perform the marriage ceremony this afternoon.” He grimaced and rubbed his jaw. “Of course, I had not anticipated that my bride would run off and have her life threatened by an old enemy. Nor could I have guessed that Cadd would have to ride to Cornwall to find a willing clergyman! It was a simple request. Only Cadd could turn it into an afternoon quest.”