Chapter Seventeen
Patience entered the breakfast room, still anxious from her calls the day before with her mother-in-law, and dreading the ones for the afternoon. Yesterday’s visit had gone well, but she’d suffered through the examination by Lady Cummings-Blackmore, a notorious woman, who had reduced many young ladies of the ton to quivering jelly. Patience had only met her once or twice and had not looked forward to having the termagant pass judgment on her.
She had breathed a sigh of relief when she and the dowager duchess had left Lady Cummings-Blackmore’s residence. Patience had managed to not embarrass herself or the dowager.
This morning they were headed to the modiste once again to be measured, pulled, pushed, and stuck with pins. As much as she enjoyed having new gowns made, she hated the procedure to get them.
Alex stood and pulled her chair back. “What are your plans for today,” he said, his tone sharp as he settled back into his seat.
Taken aback, she answered, “Your mother and I are visiting the modiste this morning, and making calls this afternoon.”
He nodded. “Is there any way you can postpone your plans?”
“Why?”
His attitude confused her. He looked almost angry. “I think you have enough gowns.”
Had he not looked sincere, she would have laughed. But apparently whatever was disturbing her husband, he did not find it humorous. She tried a lighthearted response to ease the tension. “No woman has enough gowns.”
“I would prefer if you stayed at home occasionally. You are forever wandering around London.” His lips were tight, and she became annoyed. What was this all about? She was an adult, to come and go as she pleased. He was not her father, and she had no intention of letting him control her the way her father had.
“We have only been in London for two days, so I hardly think I am ‘wandering around’ as you so succinctly put it.” She scooped butter onto her knife and spread it over a piece of toast. “Your mother made these plans. I am following her wishes.” She placed the knife down with a bit of enthusiasm. “I might say, at this point, that I would like nothing more than to return to the country.”
“My mother does not run our lives.”
“Perhaps someone should tell her that.” She blew out a breath and attempted to calm down. Already stressed in anticipating the day’s trials, Alex’s manner was pushing her over the brink. Just when she thought her old Alex had returned, he’d become pompous and arrogant, very much the duke he swore he would never be.
They both stared at each other, tension radiating between them. Not the good type of tension, Patience thought. Certainly not the tension she’d felt yesterday morning when he’d locked the library door and they’d made improper use of his desk. She had barely composed herself before it had been time to dress for her afternoon calls with his mother.
She’d been forced to wear a gown a bit higher in the neckline to hide the small marks Alex had left on the top of her breast.
Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am sorry. I did not mean to have this turn into a quarrel.” He smiled at her, no real warmth in the gesture. “Please forgive me.”
“Yes.” Of course she would forgive him, but something was off. He had assumed his new duties with aplomb, surprising her, but from the time they had stopped at their first inn on the way to London, he’d seemed tense, distracted, and almost angry. “Is something wrong, Alex?”
Again, the smile did not quite reach his eyes. “No.” He patted her hand, as one would pat an adorable kitten or puppy. “Do not concern yourself.”
The rest of the meal passed in silence, until Alex stood. “I will see you at dinner.” He got as far as the doorway, then turned. “Do not let my mother bully you. She has a tendency.”
Right now, she felt as though both he and his mother were bullying her. She felt pulled and pushed in every direction.
Perhaps there was something lacking in her that made those close to her feel as though she could be browbeaten. No, she would not allow that. She should slip away from the house and enjoy some freedom. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Patience retired to her sitting room after breakfast where she spent the time answering correspondence and writing in her journal. No sooner had she closed the cover of her book when the dowager appeared at her doorway. “Aren’t you ready? Our appointment is in one half hour.”
“I just have to retrieve my shawl, bonnet, and gloves.” She hurried past her mother-in-law’s direction.
“Of course you will fix your hair.”
Patience gritted her teeth and continued, mumbling to herself. After grabbing her belongings—she refused to even look at her hair, she descended the steps to meet the dowager duchess at the entrance hall. They left the house followed by two footmen. Patience turned to them. “We probably won’t need your help today. We aren’t expecting to have packages to carry.”
The shorter man bowed. “His Grace prefers if we accompany you, Your Grace.”
Honestly, the man was insufferable. Did he not trust her? After all, she was out with his mother, of all people. With as much dignity as she could muster, she accepted the man’s hand and climbed into the carriage.
“I don’t understand why we need an entourage.” Patience adjusted her skirts and placed her hands in her lap.
“It makes no difference, Your Grace. You have other things with which to occupy your mind. Ignore servants. As a duchess, you should never speak to them unless it is to give them orders. That is what your head butler and housekeeper are for. They deal with servant issues.”
“Even Polly?” She bristled. “Should I have the housekeeper speak for me also when it comes to my own lady’s maid?”
The dowager’s brows rose at her impertinence, and Patience was piqued enough to stare her down.
“Truth be known, I believe you are too friendly with your lady’s maid. She does not always know her place. You should be firmer with her. Servants work for you. They are your employees, not your friends.”
“Polly is more than an employee.” She was probably getting herself into trouble here, as she did need the dowager’s support, but, honestly, this ordering her about by both Alex and his mother was wearing, and she was tired of it. It was time to assert herself. She might be Patience, but she was losing her patience.
The thought made her giggle, and she ignored the dowager’s questioning glance at her chuckle.
She could have her secrets, too.
Staring out the window, she decided to have an escape soon and enjoy some time to herself. No afternoon calls, no modiste sticking her with pins, no elderly matrons sniffing at her, finding her wanting. A walk in the park, a stroll on Bond Street, an ice at Gunter’s. Just her and her “inappropriate” lady’s maid, Polly. Pleased at the prospect, her nerves settled. She would do that very soon.
Perhaps tomorrow.
…
After entering his club, Alex strode through the main room to the northwest corner where Templeton, Hawk, and Cam had gathered, sipping on coffee. Cam seemed to have them enraptured with some sort of tale that was probably 90 percent fictitious. The man’s reputation for weaving stories was renowned and quite entertaining, making him the darling of the ton. That, and his handsome face, title, and money. Adamant about not marrying for at least another ten years, so far he had held out against the toughest of the marriage-minded mamas and their conniving daughters.
“You’re just in time to hear the ending of this latest tale.” Hawk grinned as Alex sat across from him. He waited, somewhat patiently, as Cam wound down. In the meantime, Alex poured a cup of coffee and added cream and sugar.
Once they all had a laugh at the story, Alex put his cup down and leaned forward. “Things have gotten quite serious with Loverly and I need your help.” He looked around at the group of friends.
Templeton frowned. “Whatever you need, we’re here. What happened?”
“Last night I had a surprise visitor.”
“Loverly?” Hawk asked.
“The very one. I intend to find out how, but he managed to get into my house and surprised me in my study. Around midnight.”
Templeton let out a low whistle.
“Exactly.” Alex nodded in Templeton’s direction. “He held me at gunpoint and demanded I give him five thousand pounds and a safe escort to a ship heading to the Caribbean.”
“Well. He certainly isn’t asking for much, is he?” Hawk said.
“Of course, I told him I did not have that kind of money on hand. At which time he informed me he would give me two days to gather it, and he would send a note as to where and when we will meet.”
Alex waved at the footman to bring more coffee. Cam stopped him. “I believe this calls for something a bit stronger than coffee.” When the footman approached them, Cam said, “Brandy, my good man.”
“What guarantee does he have that you will agree to this?” Templeton viewed him over the rim of his glass.
“That is precisely why I need your help. As you all know, he was at the church the day of my wedding. I saw him there, no mistake. I also saw him at one of the inns Patience and I stopped at on our trip from Bedfordshire to London.” Alex ran his fingers through his hair. “There are only two ways he can be assured of getting my cooperation. One is to surprise me once again in my house.”
Cam leaned back and stared Alex in the eye. “Or grab the duchess.”
Three days later, Alex and Patience were to attend a soiree at Lord and Lady Andrews’s home. Alex had spent the good part of an hour trying to convince Patience that they should send their regrets. He continued to believe it was best to not frighten her by telling her about Loverly. He was certain it was only a matter of days before the man would be caught. With the War Department and the Bow Street Runners searching for him, the danger should end soon.
“I believe a night at home would be just the thing. You have been busy since our arrival and could use a night off.”
She stared at him in her mirror as Polly fixed her hair. “For goodness’ sake, this is the first event we’ll attend since we’ve arrived. We’ve been here less than a week, and since I was forced to spend those days being poked and prodded by the modiste and her staff, and judged and found wanting by your mother’s peers, I feel as though I could use a little bit of entertainment.”
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, you’re right. I am sorry.”
“Polly, you may leave now. His Grace can help me with my jewelry.”
The maid scurried from the room. Patience stood and walked to Alex. “What is the matter?”
He gave her what he hoped was a guileless smile. “Nothing. I fear I am a bit tired and had hoped to make a short night of it.”
She reached up and touched his cheek, making him feel guiltier for lying to her. But it was certainly in her best interests to keep her from worry and fear. It was a husband’s job to protect his wife. Not alert her to danger and make her sick with anxiety.
“We can certainly leave early. I was looking forward to this since it is not a huge event, and no one should question our attendance so soon after Cyrus’s death.”
Alex snorted. “I feel no need to pretend to mourn the man I loathed, and who treated you so shamefully.”
She gave him a soft smile that twisted his heart at how disgraceful his brother had dealt with the woman whom he should have held in high esteem and treated with nothing but respect. He had loathed the bastard, almost from the time he’d been in short pants.
Once Alex had reached a size where he was more powerful than Cyrus, his brother then had turned to other methods to torture him. False tales of Alex’s doings to their parents and cutting remarks in company had worked wonders for a young man trying to find his elusive place in life.
“I understand Lord and Lady Hampton recently returned from their wedding trip and will be there,” Patience continued. “I missed their wedding, and would so love to see Marie once again.” Her eyes sparkled with humor. “You see, I have gained some interesting tidbits by making all these dreadful afternoon calls.”
There was nothing to be had for it. He would speak with the driver and then make sure two burly footmen were with them. He had also checked the pistols stored under his seat in the carriage. There wasn’t much else he could do at this point except tie Patience up and secure her to the bed until Loverly was off the streets.
“An evening of enjoyment shall be ours, then, sweeting.” He held his arm out, and she took it.
Alex scanned the area as they stepped out the front door into the cool night air. The two footmen stood at the ready next to the carriage. Alex helped Patience in and then gave instructions to the driver.
Feeling as safe as he could under the circumstances, he entered the carriage and settled across from his wife.
…
As Patience had had a shortened Season, and Alex had spent almost all the years between university and gaining his title away from London, neither of them had extensive experience with ton affairs.
A flicker of excitement began in Patience’s stomach as the butler announced them and they descended the stairs. Their arrival turned more than a few heads in their direction. She was proud of how they looked together as a couple. Alex—tall, handsome, broad shouldered, and garbed in a ruffled shirt, with a black and silver waistcoat, starched cravat, and black satin knee breeches—took her breath away. Based on the looks cast in their direction, most of the women in the ballroom felt the same reaction.
He is mine.
Despite her scant involvement with Society, she was aware of how many bored matrons and anxious widows would love to lure Alex into their beds. Not only his dark looks held appeal, but his lofty title, along with the way he entered a room with his commanding presence, all spoke of power—a true aphrodisiac.
Alex seemed to be steering her in the direction of his three friends, Mr. Templeton, Lord Hawkins, and Lord Campbell. Their progress was slow, as they were continuously stopped by those offering their condolences and felicitations. Alex handled it all with aplomb, which made her even more proud of him. No one would ever guess he had not been raised to be the Duke of Bedford.
Unfortunately, that demeanor was also a magnet for every woman they passed. Too many, in fact, who felt no compunction at touching his arm or speaking so low he found it necessary to dip is head to hear them. By the look on his face, he was none too pleased with their comments.
She, on the other hand, squelched the desire to snatch the hair from their heads. She merely kept her chin raised while also warding off the men who paid her undue attention, as well. What a world they lived in!
“Your Grace, you are looking lovely, as ever.” Lord Hawkins gave her a gentlemanly bow as she and Alex finally made it across the room.
“Thank you.”
The other two men offered their greetings and spent so much time slapping her husband on the back, she marveled he was still standing erect. They chatted for a few minutes, Patience taking note of all the young ladies and their mamas who cast hungry glances in their direction. She currently stood with three of the most sought-after bachelors in the ton. Though, Mr. Templeton was desired by the young ladies, the mamas who wanted a title for their daughters were quick to dismiss his good looks and charm.
It didn’t take long for Hawk to let out a groan. “I hope you appreciate our attendance here tonight, Bedford, because we are about to be inundated by mamas dragging their lovely and not-so-lovely daughters in our direction.”
Mr. Templeton turned to her. “Will Miss Blake be attending this evening, Your Grace?”
This was not the first time Alex’s friend had asked after Suzanna. “I have not spoken with her since our arrival in London. I do hope she is here, because I would love to see her again.”
The other two men looked over her shoulder and grimaced. Lord Campbell bowed to her. “May I have the pleasure of this dance, Your Grace?”
“Ah, clever, Cam. You grabbed the prettiest and least available woman in the room.” Mr. Templeton grinned at Cam as he led Patience to the dance floor, passing several matrons—with their daughters—headed toward Alex’s group.
The couples gathered and took their places as the orchestra began the country reel. She curtsied to Lord Campbell, he bowed to her, and the dance began. The movements did not allow for a great deal of conversation, but merely clips of words spoken as they joined hands, moved around each other, and made their way down the row of dancers.
“Are you enjoying your time in London thus far, Your Grace?” Lord Campbell took her hand as they switched places.
“Yes.” She grinned. “Well, actually, that would be the expected thing to say, but truthfully, it has been taxing.”
“Indeed?” He joined their hands as they moved in a circle. “What has been taxing you?”
By the grin on his face, she was sure he could not imagine anything about a duchess’s life that wasn’t all sweetness and light. “I have spent many a morning acting as a pin cushion and draped in fabric until I daresay I would prefer to keep my existing wardrobe rather than subject myself to another modiste appointment.”
“Ah, strange words coming from a woman.” He twirled her around. “However, I can sympathize, as I do not relish visits to my tailor, either.”
The man was charming, and while they danced she caught more than one young lady glaring at her. There was indeed no point since she was married. Furthermore, she doubted Lord Campbell was on the search for a bride.
Then she remembered Lord Hawkins remark to Alex about being grateful for their attendance this evening. “Why would Lord Hawkins, and all of you it seems, be at this event at His Grace’s behest?”
Lord Campbell hesitated for a moment, which gave her pause as well. It almost appeared as if the man was trying to think of something to say that was a distant cousin to the truth. She raised her brows as she waited for his response.
Once more they joined hands and moved in a circle. “Your husband has not spent much time being scrutinized by the ton. He asked that we present ourselves tonight to help ease him into the torture.” His grin was a bit forced, but without calling the man a liar, she had to acquiesce to his answer.
She tipped her head in acknowledgment of his words. Shortly after, the dance ended and he returned her to Alex’s side.