The Betting Season (A Regency Season Book) (50 page)

“
Thank you, Marcie,” Patience said, starting blankly out at the street. “I’ll drink the chocolate, but I’m not sure my stomach can handle the toast.”

Marcie brought the steaming cup of chocolate to Patience, who couldn’t bring herself to move from her spot in front of the window.

“
Maybe he’s just been busy?” Marcie suggested, and Patience could hear that she was rummaging around in the boudoir, preparing her undergarments.

Patience snorted. “I do wish that were the case, but we both know better, Marcie. I’m marrying a man who hates me.”

“
Oh, don’t say that, miss! You don’t know for sure.”

“
But I do, Marcie. And he has every right.”

Marcie tsked three times. “Well, you’ve got the rest of your life to prove to him that you’re a good person.”

That was true, but part of Patience worried she’d never be able to convince him of that, no matter how hard she tried. No matter what lengths she went to. And she wondered if she should even bother. Plenty of people married without loving or even liking one another. They could have their separate lives. Patience could live at the country house and raise the children—if they had any, that was. And Tristan wouldn’t have to give up his current lifestyle.

Patience’s stomach turned, and she set the chocolate down on the window ledge. The thought of him with other women, charming and bedding them, made her a bit weak in her legs. She sat down on the edge of the bed, fighting back her tears.

Blast and damn! Why was she crying? She got what she wanted, didn’t she? Only now she wasn’t so sure it was what she really wanted. She’d been so desperate to escape this house, her father and Rangana, and the memories of her mother that were so prevalent here. Things had changed though, and the thought of leaving here to spend an eternity with a man who didn’t care for her was more painful than she ever could have imagined.

“
We’d better start getting you ready, miss.”

Marcie stood by the vanity, waiting for Patience to sit down on the little stool. She padded across the room, her footsteps heavy, wishing there was some way to put a stop to this day.

The day went on, however, and only a couple hours later, Patience found herself standing at the back of St. George’s, a room full of people before her, her future husband standing up near the minister. It was her first glimpse of him in weeks and the sight of him made her heart flutter uncontrollably. How would she manage looking at that beautiful face every day, looking into those piercing green eyes, knowing that he resented her?

“
Come, Patience.” Her father took her gently by the elbow and Rangana stepped forward to kiss her on the cheek.

“
Your mother would be so proud of you,” she said.

Patience couldn’t speak over the lump in her throat, so she simply nodded and then allowed her father to lead her down the aisle.

Tristan wasn’t the marrying kind. He’d spent many years proving that fact. But something happened to him that night at Vauxhall, and he realized, after six weeks of deep contemplation, that while he wasn’t necessarily the marrying kind, he
was
the marrying Patience kind. So when she emerged from the back of the church with the saddest face he’d ever seen, he became rather concerned. Did she not want to marry him now? After all she’d put him through, had she decided he wasn’t what she wanted after all?

Not that it mattered now. They stood before a church full of people, ready to recite their vows. The best Tristan could do was to beam at her and hope she would beam back.

He flashed a bright smile at her. Damn, she wasn’t even looking. She tipped her head down in that exact moment. Was she hiding tears? It was hard to tell with her head aimed towards the floor.

When she arrived at the front and stood before him and the minister, she still didn’t raise her head. As a matter of fact, she wouldn’t even dare a glance at him the entire ceremony. Tristan thought for sure that when they went to sign the registry, she’d have to look at him then, but no. Not even a single glance in his direction.

Well, she wouldn’t be able to escape him any longer. The wedding breakfast was at her home, and there was no choice but for them to ride in his carriage together in order to get there. At last, they climbed into the carriage alone and sat on opposite sides from one another.

Tristan allowed a minute or so to pass before he spoke. “Will you ever look at me, Patience? It is our wedding day, after all, and you haven’t spared even a glance in my direction.”

Her throat worked furiously as she swallowed, turning her head to look out the window of the carriage. She finally shook her head no.

“
May I ask
why
you won’t look at me?”

Another shake of her head.

Tristan sat back with a sigh, becoming more troubled by the moment. But when she started to cry, he could refrain no longer. He leaped across the carriage to sit next to her, laying a hand on her arm when what he really wanted to do was gather her against him and hold her until she stopped crying.

“
Please, Patience, won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“
I-I shouldn’t think I would have to tell you,” she choked out. “This whole thing is a disaster.”

“
A disaster?”

“
Of course!” she wailed. “I lied to you, deceived you, and trapped you into marriage, and now you’ll hate me and resent me the rest of our lives and all the while I’ll have to stare at your beautiful face, knowing that I’m madly in love with someone who will never love me back!”

For the first time all day, Patience turned to him, her hand flying to her mouth and a little gasp escaping her throat. Clearly she hadn’t meant to say as much as she did. But Tristan could help but smile like a blasted simpleton at her admission.

“
You little fool,” he said, shaking his head slowly back and forth.

“
Yes, I know I am,” she whispered. “I think I just established that, didn’t I?”

“
Would you just…be quiet, please,” he said, and then he descended on her, his lips pressing against hers, his arms wrapping around her small waist. She opened to him easily and allowed the kiss for a few moments before shoving against his chest.

“
Wait a moment,” she said, out of breath. “You mean you’re not angry with me?”

“
Does this look angry to you?” He pulled her back and resumed the kiss, only to be pushed away again.

“
But after all I’ve done? You’re not just the slightest bit resentful that I trapped you into marriage?”

“
Patience,” he said, trying not to lose his patience, “do you
want
me to be angry and resentful?”

She turned thoughtful. “No, of course not. But…where have you been these last six weeks? Not a single word from you. I thought for certain you were going to leave me at the altar.”

Tristan moved in closer to her again. “I’m sorry I’ve been scarce. I probably should have sent some kind of correspondence, but I’ve been busy. I had a lot of work to do at Hamlin Abbey to prepare it for my new bride.” He remembered he was carrying something very special in his pocket and reached in to pull it out. “And I did a little shopping too.”

Patience still looked a bit skeptical as she took the box from him. “You bought me a wedding present?”

He nodded as a mischievous smile came to his lips. “I hope you like it.”

She removed the paper, and a satisfying blush rose to her cheeks. “It’s…”

“
The English translation. I figured it might come in handy later on, after I’ve exhausted all other possibilities of making love to you.”

“
Tristan!” Patience swatted him with the book and then burst into giggles. “Fortunately for you,” she said as her mirth died down, “I had my own personal translator these long six weeks that I’ve been waiting to hear from you. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to put my knowledge to the test.”

Tristan couldn’t keep his hands off his wife any longer. He gathered her against him and pressed his lips to hers, delving into her mouth, reveling in the softness, and dreaming about what was to come.

When they finally pulled apart, Patience looked up at him, her eyes shuttered with passion and desire, and he wondered how they were going to get through the wedding breakfast.

“
I just want you to know,” she said quietly, “that I’m not sorry after all.”

A smile pulled at Tristan’s lips. “Is that so?”

“
I
was
sorry, but now that I know I’ll get to do this anytime I want—” she paused to kiss him again— “I’ve changed my mind completely.”

Tristan decided he definitely would not make it through the wedding breakfast, so he picked up the Kama Sutra that sat on the seat next to Patience and started thumbing through its pages.

“
What are you doing?” she asked, amused.

“
I’m looking to see if they have any suggestions for making love to one’s wife in a carriage.”

Patience laughed and then snatched the book from him, throwing it over her shoulder. It landed with a thud on the floor. “I can tell you already that there isn’t…but perhaps we can advise on the book’s next edition.”

As Tristan lowered his wife to the carriage seat, he knew one thing was for certain—that if he had to be trapped by someone, he was very glad it had been Patience Findley.

AVA STONE is the author of several Regency Noir Romances. Her best-selling Scandalous Series is filled with witty humor and centers around the friends and family of the Machiavellian-like Lady Staveley, exploring deep themes but with a light touch. A single mother, Ava lives outside Raleigh NC, but she travels extensively, always looking for inspiration for new stories and characters in the various locales she visits. You can find her at www.avastoneauthor.com

CATHERINE GAYLE has been an avid reader of romance novels (and almost anything else she can legally get her hands on) for as long as she can remember. Her mother might say it started in the womb. She writes sexy, humorous Regency-set romance, often involving families as large and diverse as her own. When she is not writing or reading, she can often be found buried beneath her sleeping cats or chasing the Nephew Monster.

JERRICA KNIGHT-CATANIA left her “glamorous” life as an actress in favor of becoming a romance author, where she could write about truly glamorous lives. She currently resides in New York City with her real-life hero of a husband, their shy Russian Blue, Dr. Snuggle, and their beautiful daughter who is most definitely a princess-in-training.

As a child, JANE CHARLES would more likely be found outside with a baseball than a book in her hand. In fact, Jane hated reading until she was sixteen. Out of boredom on a long road trip she borrowed her older sister’s historical romance and fell in love with reading and her love for them never died. Writing romance soon became a passion as well, which has been fully supported by her awesome husband, children and three cats.