The Accidental Countess (18 page)

“Oh, I doubt she’d like to know that we’ve ruined the identity of her most valued friend,” Lucy replied.

“Lucy is right about that,” Cass agreed. “Besides, she asked me to tell Captain Swift she was
with
Patience not
become
Patience myself.”

“I’m glad you agree with me, Cass, because—”

“Wait just a moment. I said you were right about that. I do not, however, agree with you on the rest of it.” Cass shook her head. “The idea of hiding from Pen is ridiculous.”

Lucy scrunched up her nose. “Why? I quite like it.”

“I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I actually agree with Lucy,” Jane said.

Cass bit her lip and glanced at her friend. “You do, Janie?”

“Yes, I do. Penelope has never seemed to give a toss about Captain Swift. I wouldn’t be surprised if she is utterly relieved. And if you meet with her alone, you’ll be able to keep her from knowing that you’re pretending to be Miss Bunbury.”

Cass held her breath. It all seemed too easy. “I suppose there is no harm in trying. But I must insist that if Pen is upset after speaking with Julian, we will stop this entire thing. I will not see my cousin hurt.”

“Agreed,” Lucy said with a nod.

Cass turned to Jane. “Will you meet her at the door, Jane? Make certain she’s comfortable?”

Jane nodded. “Of course, and I’ll ensure she’s shown into a private room with Captain Swift immediately.”

“Perfect!” Lucy declared.

Cass swallowed. It sounded perfect, but the old Cass, the unbold Cass, was already worrying about it all. Oh, what would happen if it all went terribly, horribly wrong?

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

After breakfast, Julian made his way into the conservatory. He needed to find his hostess to tell her he was leaving. God only knew how long it would take for Penelope to arrive. He couldn’t stay here any longer after the mistake he’d nearly made with Patience last night. Patience was gorgeous, her body was perfect, her face, ethereal. The way she’d looked in that low-cut gown. Julian shuddered. When she’d asked him to walk with her in the gardens, a warning bell had tolled somewhere in the back of his mind. It wasn’t a good idea to remain close with her. Their interludes at the party had shown him that he was unnaturally attracted to her. He wanted her. Badly. But only a scoundrel would kiss one lady while he was supposed to be engaged to another. No, he would not do any such thing … until he had broken things off with Penelope. And that wasn’t likely to happen if she never arrived. He would return to London. Penelope would turn up eventually. He certainly couldn’t keep chasing her across the countryside. It had been a bad idea to come here. He knew that now.

He made his way past the rows of deep green palms and bright flowers to the center of the conservatory. One of the servants had informed him that Lady Worthing had been seen coming in here a bit earlier. Laughter reached his ears. He turned a corner around a large pear tree and came into a clearing near the iron bench. Patience was there with her watercolors set up again. Only this time she was drawing Miss Wollstonecraft and Garrett Upton. Luckily, Lady Worthing was with them.

“Be certain to paint her book,” Upton was saying to Patience.

“I’d like to put my book—” Miss Wollstonecraft began.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Upton replied. “Don’t forget our bargain.”

Miss Wollstonecraft’s eyes narrowed but she snapped her mouth shut.

Lady Worthing burst out laughing. “Now this is positively delicious.”

“What are you reading this time, Jane?” Upton asked. “How can you stand all those books that end happily?”

“The good end happily and the bad, unhappily. That is what fiction means, Upton,” she retorted.

“Mr. Upton,” he replied with a grin.

Julian watched them closely. It appeared the four of them were close friends, indeed. Miss Wollstonecraft opened her mouth to reply. Not wanting to eavesdrop on their conversation, Julian stepped into the open space and cleared his throat.

All four of them turned to face him. Patience met his gaze and quickly looked away, turning her attention back to her painting.

“Ah, Captain Swift. Good to see you. We have some wonderful news for you,” Lady Worthing called, motioning for him to come closer.

Julian made his way over to the little group. “What’s that?”

“Why, your intended will be arriving this afternoon. I received a letter from Penelope this morning saying as much,” Lady Worthing replied.

Julian closed his eyes, relief flooding him. Lady Worthing was correct. He couldn’t have asked for better news. “I am glad to hear it,” he replied. He glanced at Patience, her pretty blue eyes clouded, but still she didn’t look at him. Damn. He’d hoped it wouldn’t be awkward between them but it was. Of course it was. She’d wanted him to kiss her last night, and he’d refused her. And blast it if she didn’t look beautiful today in a pretty yellow gown with tiny flowers embroidered upon it. She looked just like one of the blooms in the conservatory, as if she belonged here.

“May I?” he asked, motioning toward the painting she was working on.

Patience nodded.

Upton stood and made some excuse about needing to see to his horse, something about the animal’s hoof. Lady Worthing and Miss Wollstonecraft quickly made their excuses as well, and within a few moments, Julian found himself completely alone with Patience in the conservatory. He wondered at the others’ simultaneous abrupt departures. Had Miss Bunbury told them what had happened between them last night? Surely not. At least, he hoped not.

He drew in a breath and made his way behind her to look at the painting just as he had the other day. The work was clearly not finished but Patience had done a remarkable job of it so far. Miss Wollstonecraft’s pretty face was outlined in blue. Her spectacles and book were both there. Patience had managed to capture a certain look on the woman’s face, partly mischievous, partly intelligent. Upton was there, too, sitting next to her. She’d rendered him nearly lifelike, even down to the slight curl of his hair that Julian had not noticed before.

“It’s striking,” he said quietly.

“Thank you.”

“You all seem to be quite friendly. Even Upton.”

She hesitated. “I’m … I’m quite close with Lucy and Jane.”

He nodded. “I’m close with Derek Hunt, the Duke of Claringdon. Do you know him?”

Patience closed her eyes briefly. “Who hasn’t heard of the famous Duke of Decisive?” she murmured.

Julian laughed softly at that. “Yes, he is that. He’s gone to the Continent at the moment. He’s looking for my brother and our good friend Captain Cavendish.” Why was he telling her all of this? Miss Bunbury probably didn’t care, but anything to keep the conversation from the awkwardness of last evening. “The rest of my friends seem to have died in the war, I’m afraid.”

She searched his face, looking as if she wanted to say more, but instead she pressed her lips together and set about putting her brushes away and gathering up her canvas. “I hope the duke finds your brother. Are you close to him?” she asked. “Your brother, I mean.”

“Not as close as I’d like to be,” Julian answered simply. It was true.

“I … I’m quite sorry to hear that,” Miss Bunbury said.

“I am, too. As soon as I speak with Penelope, I intend to go in search of Donald and Rafe.”

Miss Bunbury went pale. She pressed her hand to her throat. “You’re going back to the Continent?”

“Yes.”

“But … but you nearly died. You cannot put yourself in such danger again.” She reached for him. Her hand grasped his sleeve. Her fingers were shaking.

Julian moved his hand to cover hers. “Your fingers are cold.”

“I know.” She didn’t break their eye contact.

Julian squeezed her fingers with his, willing heat to return to her hand. He studied her face. Her reaction had been so genuine, so intense. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she had tears in her eyes. Miss Bunbury was quite sensitive, it seemed, sensitive and caring. Could it be that she’d developed such a
tendre
for him in only a few short days?

“I cannot allow my brother and friend to remain missing. The only reason I didn’t go with Hunt to begin with was because my orders would not allow it and I felt I owed it to Penelope to speak with her first. But I must go look for my brother as soon as possible.”

Miss Bunbury glanced away. “So, you’ll be leaving as soon as you speak with Penelope?”

“Yes.”

She turned back and met his eyes. Her bottom lip trembled. “I wish you well, Captain. Penelope will be here soon.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Cass, Lucy, and Jane spent the next two hours in the upstairs drawing room nervously waiting for Penelope to arrive. Cass stared out the window that faced the front drive, her insides a roiling mess of nerves. She still wasn’t certain at all that this Penelope business was a good idea or a valid plan. However, Jane’s endorsement of it had given her a bit of hope. Still, it worried her.

Adding to her worry was the news that Julian intended to leave for France as soon as he spoke with Penelope. Her heart ached. She’d just got him out of harm’s way, and he intended to put himself back into it? It was a nightmare. Julian was too honorable and steadfast to do anything but search for his brother and Captain Cavendish, but it felt as if someone large was sitting on her chest every time she thought of him returning to the Continent. The war might be over, but France was hardly safe at the moment. She’d read in the papers, there were bands of rebels and spies still roving about. Paris itself was extremely dangerous as the treaty was being negotiated. What was Donald even doing there? He was an English earl. He had no business in France. Unless …

“She’s here!” Lucy shouted, pulling Cass from her thoughts.

Cass glanced out the window. Lucy was right. Penelope’s coach was making its way down the long drive.

“Now,” Lucy declared, nodding at Jane.

Jane returned the nod and made her way to the door. “Leave everything to me,” she said, just before slipping away.

Cass wrung her hands. “Oh, Lucy, what if—”

“No. No. I won’t hear any what ifs,” Lucy said. “Where is the selfsame young lady who was bent on seduction last night? I want to see her back, if you please?”

“But what if—”

Lucy gave her a stern stare, and Cass shut her mouth with a pop.

The wait was interminable. Cass was back to her old habits, pacing in front of the windows, and tugging at her gloves. Lucy, seemingly impervious to the tension of the situation, sat down and began going over yet another list, this one from the gardener, something about the flowers that were to be planted in the gardens in the spring. More than half of an hour passed before Jane returned, Penelope herself close on her heels.

Cass eyed her cousin. She didn’t look sad. She wasn’t crying. Didn’t even have a discontented look on her face. In fact, she was … smiling.

Jane, however, looked as if she’d just had an encounter with an extremely unpleasant ghost. Her face was white as milk.

“Cass!” Penelope rushed forward and pulled her cousin into her embrace.

“P-Pen. Good to see you,” Cass managed, all the while eyeing Jane suspiciously. Jane shook her head and glanced down at the rug.

Pen greeted Lucy just as enthusiastically and then plopped onto the settee. The three other ladies flocked around her.

“What? Er … when d-did you get here?” Cass managed.

“Oh, I’d say it’s been close to an hour since, wouldn’t you, Jane?” Pen asked.

“Yes, a good long while now,” Jane agreed, nervously fidgeting with her spectacles.

Pen looked about the room. “Do you have any tea, Lucy? I’m quite famished.”

Lucy nodded. With a look that could only be called confused on her face, she rang for tea.

“And what have you been doing?” Cass asked. That was it. She had to be blunt. She couldn’t endure the suspense.

“Why, Jane showed me into one of the drawing rooms and I spoke with Captain Swift.”

Jane plucked at her neckline. “Yes, indeed.”

“I did think it only right to see him first, don’t you agree, Cass?” Pen continued.

“Oh, yes. Yes, of course.” Cass watched her cousin in horror, waiting for the next words past her lips. “And … ah, how did it … go?” She winced. So did Lucy. So did Jane.

“That’s what I came up straightaway to tell you. Didn’t I, Jane? I said, ‘I must see Cass immediately and tell her.’ Didn’t I, Jane?”

Jane nodded. “Yes. Yes, you did.”

Cass and Lucy exchanged alarmed looks.

“What happened?” Lucy burst out, just as the butler entered the room with the tea tray.

Several excruciatingly silent minutes passed while the butler set up the tea service before Lucy dismissed the man and took over herself. She cleared her throat. “You were saying, Penelope?”

“Oh, yes. I had the most clever idea.”

Jane’s face remained milky. She refused the tea Lucy offered her.

“And what was that?” Cass managed to ask in a calm voice. At least she hoped it was calm. Frankly, she felt as if she were on the verge of a hysterical fit. She took a sip of tea.

Pen dropped three large lumps of sugar into her teacup and stirred it rapidly. “Why, I told Captain Swift that my name was Patience Bunbury.”

*   *   *

It took the better part of five entire minutes for Cass to stop coughing. Now she was quite certain one or both of her lungs would never be entirely the same again.

“Are you quite all right, Cass?” Pen asked, flying to her side, concern etched across her features.

“Oh, I … yes, yes. Quite all right,” Cass managed to choke out. “Did you say you told Captain Swift you’re Patience Bunbury?”

Pen nodded happily. “I most certainly did.”

“But, ah, aren’t you supposed to be at her house party?” Cass continued. It was all so confusing.

Pen fluttered a hand in the air. “I suppose so, but no matter.”

“Did he…” Cass cleared her throat again. “Did he ask you where Penelope Monroe was?”

The catlike grin remained on Pen’s plump face. “He did not.”

Cass glanced at Jane, who nodded. “That’s right. He didn’t.”