“Very well,” he said. “Tell MacTavish that I look forward to seeing him soon.”
“I shall do that,” she said with a nod as she turned away and headed for home.
With each step she took, she tried hard to dismiss the thought that Julian might have lied to her about his meeting with Lord Mayberry. But the man’s certainty that he and Julian had met on Thursday and not today increased her fears. Then there was the fact she’d not seen Julian until Saturday evening. Where had he been all that time? An image of Julian stepping into a small hackney cab with Una filled her head. She bit down on her lower lip as she quickly closed the door on the ominous direction of her thoughts.
There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything. She simply needed to trust Julian. The idea was good in principle, but her emotions still made it difficult to keep her mind from running amok with the worst of all possibilities. Patience arrived home eager to have Julian set her mind at ease. Their butler, Hobbs, met her at the door, as if he’d been expecting her.
“Has Mr. MacTavish returned?” She removed her hat and glanced at the man.
“No, my lady,” the butler said with a shake of his head. “But a letter arrived for you a short time ago, and it appears to be Mr. MacTavish’s handwriting. I placed it on your secretaire.”
“Thank you, Hobbs.”
Heart pounding wildly in her chest, Patience hurried into the small salon and retrieved the letter. The parchment crackled softly as she pulled the note out of the envelope.
Mo ghràdh
,
Forgive me,
mo leannan
, but my father’s business has run longer than I expected. I shall not be home in time to accompany you to the Dumbartons party. Go without me, and I will see you when you return. I miss you
mo ghràdh
. I will be home as soon as possible.
Your loving husband,
Julian
The paper crackled as her fingers crumpled the note. The sudden image of Una Bensmore sent a wave of fear crashing over her. The invisible force of emotion dragged her downward until she was certain she was drowning. Was she losing Julian? She swiftly crushed the thought.
Julian loved her. He’d said so numerous times over the past few days. Patience smoothed out Julian’s note to read it again. None of the words had changed. There had to be an explanation, and only Julian could answer her questions. Suddenly, the idea of going out for the evening was far from palatable.
She wrote a quick note to the Dumbartons that she was unwell and that Julian had refused to leave her side. The thought was laughable when he was supposedly attending to his father’s business affairs. The fact that she was questioning even his note made her chest tighten. The Crianlarich would be pleased to know how much doubt his words had instilled in her.
Mrs. Smathers prepared a roast chicken for her dinner, but she was too heartsick to eat. On the fireplace mantel, the clock chimed one hour after another, until she was growing frantic with worry. At ten o’clock, another note from Julian arrived. This one stated the meeting he was in was at a critical stage and would run into the early morning hours. When he finished he would sleep at the club as he didn’t wish to disturb her by coming in so late. Although she
was relieved he wasn’t the victim of thieves, lying in a gutter somewhere, she found herself questioning every word in the note. Was he lying to her?
Eyes closed to hold back her tears, she didn’t want to believe all the horrible thoughts racing to confront her. All she could think about was the memory of Una’s smug expression as she’d looked up at Patience from the cab this morning.
Lethargically, Patience slipped into the cold, lonely bed. The tears she’d been holding back all day began to flow, and she sobbed herself to sleep. It was a fitful sleep, and she woke up several times during the night until she finally rose at the first light of dawn. When Maggie arrived with her breakfast, surprise filled her expression.
“You’re up bright and early, my lady.”
“I didn’t sleep well,” she said quietly as she picked up the newspaper off the breakfast tray.
“He’ll be home soon, my lady. I’m sure of it.”
“Thank you Maggie.” She dismissed the maid with a small smile.
Patience poured herself a cup of tea then pushed aside the plate of eggs and bacon Maggie had brought up to her. She had no appetite at all. The society pages rustled in her hands as she skimmed the gossip columns. Reading the columns was a vice, but it usually afforded her a laugh at the ridiculous antics of people. As she read the column, a small paragraph caught her eye, and she stiffened.
A certain Scotsman was seen in the company of an auburn-haired beauty not his wife or sister on Maple Street looking at houses. Has the man decided to take a mistress? We wonder what Lady P would say?
For a moment, Patience remained frozen in her seat as the newsprint fell from her fingers. He was looking for a house with Una. And she was certain it was Una. It had to be. Bile rose in her throat. Men did not look at houses unless they were with a wife—or mistress.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Patience MacTavish. You know quite well how gossip can change the most innocent of events into something far more ugly,” she muttered as she rose to her feet and proceeded to dress for the day.
Patience spent most of the day lethargically going about her daily routine. It kept her occupied until later in the afternoon when she was in the salon. She was hopelessly attempting to repair the needlepoint on a chair cover when she heard voices at the front door. Setting aside her botched embroidery, she rose to her feet as Hobbs announced Una Bensmore. Patience barely had time to recover from her amazement as the woman sailed into the room. Hands clasped in front of her, Patience met the woman’s calculating gaze with what she hoped was an expression of detached serenity.
“Good afternoon, Miss Bensmore,” Patience greeted the woman politely.
“I’m here to see Julian,” the woman said in a musical brogue which was as beautiful as her face.
“I’m sorry, but he’s not here at the moment,” Patience said with a forced smile. “Would you care to leave a message?”
“No, it can wait,” Una said as she stared at Patience with a crafty expression on her face. “You were surprised to see me yesterday morning.”
The direct confrontation made Patience flinch, but she managed to maintain her composure. With a shrug she frowned as if confused by the woman’s statement.
“You’re a friend of Julian’s. Why would I be surprised?” she lied.
“This is true, but I would have thought this morning’s society page would have explained why I was with Julian yesterday.”
Panic careened through Patience. Was the woman actually confirming the gossip? Had Julian really taken Una house hunting yesterday? If that was true there was only one conclusion she could draw from the knowledge. She immediately rejected the idea. Julian wouldn’t take a mistress. Desperately she fought back the growing fear inside her and struggled not to let the other woman see it.
“My husband is a thoughtful man, and always willing to help his friends. I hope you manage to find something to your liking.”
“Aye, I did, but then Julian is, as you say, a thoughtful mon, but I think you already know Julian and I are much more than friends.” The woman’s sly expression made Patience swallow hard as fear snaked through her. An artful smile curved Una’s lovely mouth. “Do you no’ wonder why he came back to town early without telling you or why he didn’t come home to you last night?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she lied. “Julian sent me a note saying he’d been detained on business.”
“As you know we were childhood sweethearts. The Crianlarich and I believed Julian would marry me, but he did no’,” Una said as loathing twisted her lovely features in an ugly mask. “He married an Englishwoman. No’ a Scotswoman.”
“I might have English blood, but I have Stewart blood too.
Royal
blood,” Patience bit out with fierce pride. “And I didn’t steal Julian away from anyone.”
Patience shook her head as she remembered Julian’s whirlwind courtship. She had come to accept the fact that every man who’d ever courted her had eventually left without making an offer. The last thing she’d expected when she’d been perfectly happy sitting on the shelf had been a romance with a Scotsman whose voice was sin itself. A man whose kisses made her melt. But it also pointed out once again how little she knew of her husband.
“Does no’ matter. I’ve stolen him away from you. Tis my bed he sleeps in now,” Una said with a smile that reminded Patience of a beautiful rose full of thorns dipped in poison.
“Why should I believe you?” Patience said with what she hoped was a look of annoyed disbelief. The woman had to be lying. Julian would never betray her.
“Because I can prove Julian was in my bed.” The confidence in the woman’s voice sent a shiver of fear through Patience.
“And how do you propose to do that?” she scoffed.
“Because I know about his birthmark.” Una’s words sent ice sluicing through Patience’s veins.
“Birthmark?” she whispered as the image of the birthmark on Julian’s left hip flitted through her head.
“Aye,” Una said with a malicious smile. “Tis a reddish mark that looks like a bird in flight.”
It was as if the woman had ripped Patience’s heart out of her chest. Only a woman who’d shared Julian’s bed would know about his birthmark. In shock, Patience jumped slightly as the other woman extended her hand.
“I also have the brooch his mother gave him. I thought you might need further proof that I have convinced Julian we belong together.”
“His brooch?” Patience said hoarsely as her disorientation forced her to grasp the back of the chair at her side.
“Aye, he left it behind last night, when…”
“When he spent the night with you,” Patience choked out despite the knot threatening to close her throat shut.
“Aye.”
The woman’s mouth slowly curved in a smug, satisfied smile as she pulled something from her purse. She extended her hand and offered the large, round pin to Patience. Her hand shook as she reached for the silver piece of jewelry bearing the familiar crest of the MacTavish clan. Julian’s mother had given him the brooch just before she’d died. He’d only been seven at the time, and he cherished the large pin, always wearing it on his shoulder whether he was wearing his fly plaid or not. It was not something he would easily lose.
As her fingers brushed against the other woman’s, Patience sucked in a sharp breath at the image that flashed in front of her eyes. Una holding a baby. A split second later, the vision changed to the familiar images of spinning carriage wheels and the out of control blaze that surrounded her.
The chaotic imagery lasted only a few seconds, but it made Patience even more unsteady on her feet. She swayed slightly, and her fingers dug into the chair’s cushion. Her gaze met the woman’s startled expression.
“You have the
an dara sealladh
,” the woman breathed, her voice filled with awe before the woman paled and an uneasy look swept across her face.
“Leave, and don’t ever come back here again,” Patience said in a cold, flat voice. “If you do, I’ll have the magistrate order your arrest for threatening me.”
“You would no’ dare,” Una said with a swaggering look of contempt. “Julian will no’ let you.”
“Is that a challenge?” Patience said as a sudden rage swept through her. Steadied by an anger unlike any she’d ever known, she stepped toward the other woman keeping her voice low and intimidating. “If there’s one thing a Rockwood never refuses, it’s a challenge. Now leave.”
Fear crossed Una’s face as Patience pointed toward the salon door. With an abrupt nod, the other woman headed toward the exit. As she reached the doorway, Una looked over her shoulder with a sneer curling her lips.
“And you should remember this, my lady. If there’s one thing I can give Julian that you can no’, tis an heir.”
Patience drew in a sharp breath as the image of Una and her child filled her head again. The moment the woman was gone, Patience staggered to the couch to collapse into it with a soft sob. The pain ripping through her was almost unbearable. How could Julian have said he loved her then betray her in such a deplorable manner?
No
, how could she believe Una? Julian had told her that he loved her. Just yesterday morning, he’d made love to her with all the passion she felt for him. She couldn’t believe he could be so loving with her only to enter another woman’s bed. She trembled as she remembered the passion and tenderness of their lovemaking over the past several days since his return from Scotland. The man had barely allowed her to leave his sight. Had those moments been nothing but a dream—a drama played out by him and for what purpose? None of it made sense, and yet all the pieces connected to form a picture of betrayal.
Confused, hurt, and desperate not to believe Una’s cruel words, Patience stared down at Julian’s brooch as tears slid down her cheeks. The disappearance of his brooch might have been easy to dismiss. It could have fallen off in the cab. Una could have found it and Julian would be none the wiser. But the most damning evidence of all was Una’s knowledge about Julian’s birthmark. How else could she have known about it unless she’d seen Julian undressed?
The knowledge taunted Patience with a horrifying intensity that threatened to bring her to her knees. She shook her head. No, she wouldn’t allow that to happen. She was a Rockwood. Slowly, she wiped the tears off her face and stood up.
Patience listlessly walked around the room trying to reject the evidence Una had shared. She drew in a sharp breath at the memory of her vision. The woman had said she could give Julian a child. The fact that she and Julian were childless was a terrible source of pain to them both. Had he betrayed her because he wanted a son?
Although he’d consistently brushed aside his need for an heir, she found it hard to believe he wasn’t disappointed she’d failed to have a child. Nausea gripped her insides. His lie about his appointment with Mayberry and his failure to tell her that he’d returned to town early, yet hadn’t come home, was damning enough. She sent up a fervent prayer that somehow Julian would have a rational explanation for everything.