Chapter Eighteen
Hours later, Patience turned to seek out the ladies’ retiring room and walked straight into Lord Hawkins. He jumped back. “I am so sorry, Your Grace.”
She waved away his apology and sighed. She was growing wearier and more annoyed by the minute. From the moment she and Alex had arrived, she’d been followed by him or one of his three friends everywhere she went. They had all four danced with her—twice—and driven away other potential partners with a glower, which they thought she hadn’t noticed.
She had.
What she found confusing was the reason for it. Did Alex not trust her? As a newly married matron, she was certainly not high on the list of young gentlemen to pursue. Although, truth be known, aside from the Four Guardians—as she had begun to call them in her head—she’d never had so much attention at an affair. It seemed all the gentlemen who had passed her by previously, the few times she had been at Polite Society balls and such, now found her more interesting as a married woman. She hated what that inferred.
“May I escort you somewhere?” Lord Hawkins offered her his arm.
“Thank you, my lord, but that is not necessary.” She moved to go around him, but he stepped to his right. “Ah, but I insist. ’Tis such a large crowd tonight. I would hate to see you lost in the throng.”
Rather than cause a scene, she took his arm and offered more of a grimace than a smile. Apparently choosing to ignore it, Lord Hawkins maneuvered them through the crowd. Once they were in the corridor, he said, “I assume you are headed to the ladies’ retiring room?”
Good heavens, certainly he wasn’t planning on escorting her right to the door. “Yes, thank you for your escort, my lord. I will be fine from here.” She turned, hurried down the corridor, and escaped into the room set aside for the ladies.
Once inside, she gave a sigh of relief and quickly took care of her business. She spent about ten more minutes refreshing herself with a cool lavender cloth provided by the maid in attendance, and resting her feet with a lie-down on a chaise longue. Feeling much better after her respite, she left the room to find Lord Campbell leaning against the wall across from the portal, his arms crossed over his chest.
This was becoming ridiculous. “Surely you are not waiting for me?”
He pushed himself away from the door and walked toward her as if guarding a prized possession. “Of course, Your Grace. Bedford was stopped on his way here by Lord Tillerson to discuss some matter of Parliament. Not that I think Bedford has any interest in the matter right now. He needs to get his feet under him first.” He extended his arm, but she resisted.
“My lord, I do not need you, Lord Hawkins, or my husband to escort me around this home as if I were a child wandering about, ready to stumble down a dark staircase.”
He backed up, his eyes wide. “Your Grace, I assure you, no one would believe you are a child.” If he meant his words to be a compliment, they fell short.
She raised her chin and swept past him, ignoring his outstretched arm. “If you will excuse me, I would like a word with my husband.”
Actually, she would like several words with the man. And none of them would be pleasant. She tamped down her urge to stomp her foot as she heard Lord Campbell follow her along the corridor and down the stairs to the ballroom. Her anger grew as she watched Alex break away from Lord Tillerson and make his way toward her.
“Your Grace, I would like a word with you.” He glanced behind her, at, she assumed, Lord Campbell following her like a puppy. Alex broke into a smile and took her hand. “Of course, my dear. Would you like a stroll in the garden?”
“Yes.” What she would like was a heavy reticule with which to bop him over the head. He led her through the crush, making their way slowly as more people stopped them to offer condolences and to wish them happy. Impatient to have her say, and tired of pretending sorrow when Cyrus was mentioned, she was relieved when they left the last well-wisher, and Alex escorted her through the french doors to the small patio area leading to the garden.
…
Alex did not have to guess what was on his wife’s mind. As much as he hated boxing her in, he had no choice. A large gathering such as this was the perfect place for someone to grab her. He had no reason to believe Loverly himself would show up with all of London looking for him, but as the man had been able to get into his house, he could do the same here. Or anywhere Patience would go. Hence, the need for constant vigilance.
He would make a visit to the War Department again tomorrow and demand to know why it was taking so long to capture the man. For now, however, he had to rely on himself, Hawk, Cam, and Templeton to keep watch over her. She was much too vulnerable.
He and the others had wrestled with the idea of telling Patience, but it was unanimously decided there was no benefit in doing that.
The tension radiated off her where their hands joined. They continued down the steps, Alex making sure there was no sign of Loverly. To be safe, he only walked a few steps from the patio and remained in a well-lit area.
As he’d noted earlier, Patience looked lovely tonight, and he was not oblivious to the glances and not-so-covert invitations from some of the men. He was almost grateful for the need to keep an eye on her for safety purposes. She was an innocent, and not having had much contact with the gentlemen of the ton, she probably wasn’t aware of how much danger of another kind she could get herself into.
The scant moonlight cast a soft glow on her face, highlighting the enticing curve of her cheek and neck, and the brilliance of her green eyes. Eyes that right now were snapping with anger. He sighed, knowing what was coming.
He would stand by his earlier decision to keep her in the dark. No good could come from telling her.
The memory washed over him of when he and the other officers had planned a night attack. Alex had foolishly brought a young soldier into his confidence about what was to happen. Unfortunately, the young man had taken it upon himself to forge ahead without waiting for his orders and had ended up with his throat slit. Had Alex kept the information to himself, the lad would have gone home to his parents when the war ended.
Just one more dark mark on his soul.
She shook her hand free and placed them both on her hips. “Your Grace, I would like to know why I have been followed around all evening like a just-out-of-the-schoolroom-chaperone-dodging debutante.”
He could not help the laugh that burst forth. “‘Just-out-of-the-schoolroom-chaperone-dodging debutante?’”
Patience, unfortunately, did not share his amusement. She continued to stare at him, her tiny satin-shod foot tapping away on the stone walkway. “Well?”
Alex ran his fingers through his hair. “It might seem like you are being followed, but that is certainly not my intention.”
“Do you think me muddleheaded, Your Grace?”
“Stop with the ‘Your Grace’ business, Patience. Otherwise, we’ll be your gracing each other the rest of the evening.” The devil take it, but she roused his lust. All self-righteous anger, her breasts rising and falling with her deep breaths, the creamy tops just begging for his attention.
Instead of standing in the garden parrying with words, he wanted to throw her over his shoulder like some sort of conquering hero and toss her onto the nearest bed. If he could only harness the passion in her anger and channel it to their lovemaking, he would not let her out of bed until Loverly was caught.
“Perhaps I have been a bit overbearing this evening. I assure you, it was only because of your lack of knowledge in moving about in Society. I did not want you to get yourself into any sort of awkward situation.”
Her jaw dropped at the same time her hands did. “You do think me a ninnyhammer! Either you suppose I cannot comport myself in a proper fashion, or you believe I am senseless enough to believe the nonsense coming from your mouth.”
“Enough, Patience. This entire conversation is unnecessary. Furthermore, it is time to return home.” He hated how imperious he sounded, but there was no way to explain the situation to her, and the more he tried, the more difficult it became.
Patience drew in a deep breath. “You are not my father to order me about, but I fear you grow more like him every day.” With those words, she swept past him and hurried up the stairs. The shock of what she said took him aback, and she had already returned to the ballroom and disappeared into the crowd when he shook his head and went after her.
…
Patience pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring those who called her, fighting to keep the tears welling in her eyes from falling. She was a duchess. She must behave like one, not crumble to the floor in a heap of wailing womanhood.
She was slowly coming to the conclusion that she’d been right. Once she’d allowed Alex his husbandly rights, he’d begun to treat her in a tyrannical manner. The little bit of power she’d held had vanished. He thought her a fool, didn’t trust her, and was trying to control her.
No. She would not allow it. She’d had enough, and she would not permit the rest of her life to continue this way.
Mr. Templeton stepped in front of her, concern in face. “Is everything all right, Your Grace?” For once she was happy to see one of the Four Guardians. “Will you please escort me home, Mr. Templeton? I am not feeling well.”
He frowned. “Where is Bedford?”
She waved behind her. “Back there. I prefer to leave right away.”
Mr. Templeton scanned the crowd, but extended his arm for her to take. She was grateful for his strength since she needed to hold onto something. Shivers racked her body, and she almost felt as though she were getting sick. They made their way to the entrance hall of the townhouse, when Alex’s deep voice cut through Mr. Templeton’s request for his carriage to be brought around.
“I will tend to my wife, Templeton.” Alex nodded at the footman at the door. “Please have my carriage readied.” He took her shawl from the butler and draped it over her shoulders. She stood stiffly, not wanting to even acknowledge his presence. Mr. Templeton gave her a slight bow. “Good night, Your Grace.” He cast a concerned look at Alex and left them.
The only reason she took Alex’s arm was to prevent falling on the slippery pathway. It would be hard to maintain her dignity and righteous anger sitting on her arse with her skirts up around her knees.
Alex helped her into the carriage, climbed in, and settled across from her. She turned her head and stared out the window. The lights of the townhouse faded as they moved down the street, the sound of the horses and the turning of the carriage wheels the only sound.
After a night of tossing and turning, with Alex sleeping in his bedchamber and she in hers, Patience arose with a headache and a feeling of despondency. Since their night at the inn, they’d shared a bed every night and had made love at least once a day. Oftentimes spontaneously, whenever she saw that look in Alex’s eyes right before he locked the door to whatever room they were in at the time. She sometimes wondered what the staff thought of that.
Aside from the sex, it seemed all her hopes for a successful marriage were slowly fading. He had become a domineering tyrant.
She had spent enough years with her father to know how difficult life could be for a woman married to such a man. With a heavy heart, she summoned Polly. “Once we have had breakfast, I would like to take a trip to Bond Street and do a bit of shopping.”
“Will the dowager be accompanying us?”
“No. It will be only you and me. Furthermore, I will instruct the footmen to leave us in peace. I do not want to be trailed.”
“Your Grace, I don’t think His Grace wants you to leave the house without the footmen. He was adamant about it, if you remember.”
She tried to keep the anger from her voice as she waved her maid’s objection away. “Leave it to me. I will make sure we have a day of shopping without men following us about like puppies.”
Alex was absent from breakfast, which was just as well, since she did not want to share her day’s plans with him. She was not very good at lying, so any conversation between them would turn into another argument.
Polly joined her as they made their way into the carriage. She tolerated the ever-present footmen, when they’d been adamant about attending her, per His Grace’s instructions, but assured her maid they would have their freedom once they arrived at Bond Street. Her spirits rising with the idea of independence, Patience planned on which shops she wanted to visit. No sticking pins into her body today. Perhaps they would view the items for sale in Grafton House, and then onto Twinings for tea, and maybe a stop at Wedgewood’s to see about a new set of china.
They would top off their expedition with tea and sandwiches at Gunter’s. With the balmy breeze and sunshine, it was a perfect day for such a trip. They alighted the carriage and entered a small milliner’s shop, one of her favorite’s. Once inside, with the two footmen standing on the pavement in front of the shop, Patience looked to her heart’s content, then took Polly’s hand, and placing her finger over her mouth, tugged her toward the side door that led to the alley between the milliner and Twinings Tea Shop.
Laughing gaily at the trick they had pulled on the footmen, Patience and Polly rounded the back wall of Twinings and walked in the opposite direction of the footmen. Taking in a deep breath of free air, Patience said, “Now onto Gunter’s.”
They had barely sat at the table when a gentleman approached them. He was older, very distinguished looking, his eyes darting from side to side as he moved to their table. “Excuse my impertinence, but are you not Her Grace, The Duchess of Bedford?”
A bit suspicious of a stranger approaching them, she said, “Yes. That is so.”
He gave them a deep bow. “It is a pleasure to meet you, and I apologize for my forwardness, but I did want to give you my regards.”
Patience smiled at the man, but grew a little more concerned when he wiped his forehead and continued to glance around, as if expecting someone.
“I am a longtime friend of your husband.” He smiled, revealing teeth that reminded her of a drawing she’d seen in a children’s book.
She immediately relaxed. “Indeed? And your name, so I can convey your regards?”
“Lord Loverly at your service, Your Grace.”
…
Alex flattened his hands on the desk and came eye-to-eye with the commander. “What the hell is taking so long to catch Loverly?”
The much overworked commander shook his head. “The man is invisible, I swear. No one has seen him—except you—and I have every available man on the streets looking for him.”
Alex collapsed in the seat in front of the commander’s desk. “I have someone watching my wife every minute of the day. I’m sure he’s going to try to use her to get the money he asked for. Except for her, he knows I have absolutely no reason to give it to him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep her wrapped up like this. I don’t mind telling you this is causing problems between us.”
He hated admitting such a thing, even to himself, but there it was. Their rift last night was a serious one. Most times they slept together in his bed, but last night she had entered her room with a curt “good night” and closed the door. Firmly. Leaving him on the other side, staring at the polished wooden surface.
Shortly after leaving his meeting at the War Department, Alex departed for home, having sent notes around to Hawk, Cam, and Templeton to meet him there. They had to come up with some sort of strategy to end this. He had a great deal of work to do regarding his estates, his position in Parliament, and his marriage.
His marriage.
He pushed the problem with Patience from his mind. There was nothing he could do about it. Until Loverly was caught and dealt with, he had to make sure she was always protected. A wedding trip would be nice. They could travel to all his estates, mixing duty with pleasure. From what he’d gathered, such a trip could take more than a year.
Monroe, the London butler, met him at the door with the news that Templeton and Cam had already arrived. As he handed his gloves, cane, and hat to the butler, he asked after Patience.
“She and Polly left a bit ago. They were traveling to Bond Street, I believe.”
His jaw tightened. Why the devil couldn’t she remain at home embroidering, or counting the linens or silver, like a proper duchess? Why did she always have to roam around?
“How many footmen went with them?”
“Two, Your Grace. Plus the driver has a pistol on him, as well.” Alex had been forced to bring the driver, footmen, and Monroe into the plan to keep Patience safe. After discovering someone on his staff had let Loverly in, he kept his counsel from everyone except the men ordered to protect her. He was slowly interviewing the staff, many of whom he had met when he had assumed his title. Most of the servants who had been at their townhouse when he’d been a child were no longer in service.
Feeling even more out of sorts, he greeted Templeton and Cam and settled into a chair in front of the fireplace. He hadn’t spoken more than a few words when Hawk strode into the room. “Is there news?” he asked.
Alex waved him to a seat. “I was just going over my meeting with the commander. The very short meeting since Loverly has not been found, no one has seen him—except me—and the commander has everyone he can possibly dispense with looking for him.”
A footman entered the room, carrying a tray with coffee, tea, biscuits, and tarts. He placed the tray on the table in front of their grouping of chairs. On his heels came a white-faced Polly, her hair disheveled, her breathing erratic. “Your Grace.” With a shaky hand, she held something out to him.
Alex stared at the folded paper as if it would rear up and bite him. He knew what was written there. He took it from her hand and slowly opened it. His heart sank. He looked up, tight-lipped.
“Loverly has her.”