Chapter Twenty-One
Alex strode through the main room at White’s and joined Cam, Templeton, and Hawk, who were gathered in the corner with empty coffee cups and opened newspapers scattered about the table and chairs. He had no idea how he would have survived the past two weeks of Patience’s stubborn resistance to his attempted visits without them.
The house was so empty. The servants tiptoed around him, and for the most part, the place felt like a mausoleum. There was no smiling face across the breakfast table, no smirk over the chess board, and no warm, soft body to cuddle with in bed.
And for the first time in weeks, his nightmares had returned nightly.
“Bloody hell, Bedford, if you don’t lose that tense look about you, I will have to drag you to Gentlemen Jackson’s for a few rounds.” Hawk lowered the newspaper he’d been reading and studied Alex.
Alex threw himself into an empty chair. “I don’t know what else to do. I’ve been to Montfort’s townhouse every day for two weeks. Always the same answer, ‘Her Grace is not receiving.’ And the arse that I am, I’ve sat for hours waiting for her to come down the stairs. Twice.”
“I would say your method is not working,” Templeton observed.
“Thank you for enlightening me. Perhaps you have a brilliant idea to share with the group?”
Templeton leaned forward. “In fact, I do.”
Alex narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“I am escorting Miss Blake to the theater tonight. She tells me Her Grace is attending with us. The injury to her face is apparently healed and she now feels as though she can be seen in public.”
Alex’s heart sped up. “I will wait outside Montfort’s place and sweep her away in my carriage.”
“No!” all three men answered at once.
Cam ran his fingers through his hair “Whatever is wrong with you, Bedford? This entire fiasco has turned you into an addlepated fool.” He shook his head.
“What?” He thought the plan a fine one. Pick her up in his arms and carry her to his carriage where she would remain until he had his say. He saw nothing wrong with that.
Hawk pointed at him. “The last time I saw Her Grace she was calling you a monster and a bully. Do you really think forcing her into your carriage and taking her prisoner would change her mind? Think about it, man.”
Alex slumped back into the chair. “You’re right.”
Templeton counted off on his fingers. “First, you will present yourself at the theater tonight and go to Montfort’s box. Make sure it is after the show starts. Second, I will see that there is an empty seat next to Her Grace of which you can make use. She is well mannered enough that she will not leave the box. Third, if you make a scene and embarrass Her Grace, or Miss Blake, I will personally drag you out of the theater and pummel you.”
Alex narrowed his eyes. “I will not embarrass anyone.” He paused. “Why is it you will be attending the theater with Miss Blake?”
Templeton waved him off, a slight flush to his face. “I invited her, and she suggested we use her cousin’s box.”
“You and Miss Blake? Patience told me her cousin was holding out for a title.”
He glared at him. “We are discussing your relationship and how you have managed to muddle it up, and how we—your friends—are trying to salvage the mess you have made.”
“Nicely done, Templeton. A good deflection,” Cam murmured from behind his newspaper.
Hawk snorted.
“Is there something going on with you and Patience’s cousin of which I am unaware?”
Templeton sighed. “Do you want my help or not?”
“Yes.”
“Then do as I say. If this doesn’t work, I am afraid all is lost. From what Miss Blake has confided in me—” He raised his finger at Alex. “Do not venture off into that avenue. Her Grace is still adamant that you are the worst of the worst.”
That’s what he was afraid of. Two weeks of separation and he felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. This time it was even worse than when she’d been swept away from him by their fathers. This time she was his wife.
Truly his love.
Alex stood in the lobby of the theater and carried on an inane conversation with Lady Talbot about her dogs. To his credit, he hadn’t thrown his hands up in frustration and stalked off at the woman’s meandering, since he was only wasting time until the play began.
He’d only been in the theater a few minutes when Templeton, Miss Blake, and Patience arrived. He thought for a minute she’d seen him, but she bent her head toward Miss Blake to say something to her, and he turned his back, hoping she would not storm across the lobby and chastise him, or worse, call for her carriage.
When he glanced over his shoulder the group was gone, and he let out a deep breath. He continued to nod at Lady Talbot, wondering what the devil she was blathering on about now. Something about Lady Clarendon, the Earl of Clarendon’s countess, performing surgery on animals. He shook his head. Poor Lady Talbot was obviously delusional and in dire need of a guardian of some sort.
An announcement came from a footman that the play was about to start. Alex offered to escort Lady Talbot to her theater box just when her son showed up, looking a bit in his cups. Thanking his lucky stars at not being the woman’s escort for the evening, he wished them both an enjoyable time, and walked toward the staircase leading to the theater boxes.
He gave himself about fifteen minutes to be assured the play had started. He climbed the stairs, his heart beating so loudly surely the actors on the stage would be drowned out. This was the first time he would see Patience since that gruesome night when his world had shattered. After receiving directions from a footman, he found his way to the Montfort’s box and stopped outside, taking a deep breath.
He stepped inside to see Templeton, Miss Blake alongside him, and Patience next to her. The chair alongside her stood empty, just as Templeton had promised. They were all caught up in the play. He moved quietly to the seat next to Patience, and sat.
“Good evening, my love.”
…
Patience held her breath. He is here. She knew he’d arrived in the box because she smelled the ever-present bergamot. Mere seconds passed before he took the seat next to her, his warm presence flooding her with longing.
She’d seen him in the lobby when they first entered. Her stomach had dropped to her toes and she’d lost her breath. He looked so good. Tears had flooded her eyes at the sight of him dressed in his evening clothes, trying very hard to pretend he was interested in whatever Lady Talbot was rambling on about. Not wanting him to know she’d seen him, she bent close to Suzanna’s ear and mumbled some inane statement that had her cousin looking at her curiously.
The last two weeks had been hell. She’d refused to see him each time he’d arrived at the Montfort door.
She missed him so much her heart literally ached. At first, her righteous anger had sustained her refusal. He had done a vile thing. Then she spent a great deal of time thinking about what had happened that night, and the days leading up to it. Yes, he should have told her about Loverly so she would be on guard. But how could she know what his fears had been? He’d seen things she could never imagine. Was it so wrong for a husband to want to protect his wife?
And Loverly was a traitor, a kidnapper, and given the opportunity, probably a murderer, as well.
She’d concluded that, yes, Alex was no longer the young man she’d fallen in love with four years ago. He was, however, the grown man she’d fallen desperately and completely in love with since his return. Part of that man was what he’d been through while they had been separated. That could not be undone, nor could their time apart be relived.
And love him she did.
Until she knew how to tell him of her feelings, she’d continued to bar him from her door. She’d spent hours pacing in her room, words flooding her brain, words she never seemed able to put together into something that made sense. Her feelings where Alex were concerned were raw. So very raw.
Many times, she wanted to race down the stairs and fling herself into his arms, but what they needed to say to each other required privacy and time. She had considered ordering a carriage from Montfort’s house and going back home. Had he not appeared at the theater tonight, she might have done it tomorrow.
He reached over and placed his gloved hand on hers. Even through the fabric she felt his heat, and the rapid beating of the pulse at his wrist.
Or was it hers?
Her mouth dried up and her stomach twisted with anxiety. He leaned over and murmured in her ear. “Are you enjoying the play?”
Play? Is there a play?
Unable to form coherent words, she nodded.
Alex leaned back and stared at the stage. Yes, there was a play. She tried to listen to the actors, but all her senses were heightened and focused on the man sitting next to her. He began to stroke the inside of her wrist with his fingertip.
She chewed on her lip and closed her eyes. His stroking turned to circles and she felt the tingles erupt in her nipples and between her legs. She pulled her hand away to keep him from feeling her heart pounding.
Once more he leaned toward her. “This is my favorite play.”
Indeed? She wondered what it was. People were prancing around the stage and spewing lines, but she had no idea what they said. She had known the name of the play before they left the house, but once she’d spotted Alex in the lobby, all thoughts—except for him—had vanished from her mind.
“Um.” Very intelligent answer. She did herself proud.
Again, he reached for her hand, and when she attempted to tug it away from him, he held fast. This time he intertwined their fingers and rested their hands on his thigh.
His very muscular thigh. Close to the part of him she noticed was growing. She quickly looked away.
Goodness, the theater was quite overheated this evening. She reached for the fan on her lap and her stiff fingers dropped it to the floor. They both bent at the same time to retrieve it and Alex used the incident to kiss her cheek.
Her hand flew to her face where she still felt the moistness from his lips. He placed the fan in her hand and turned back to the stage, a slight smile on the warm lips that had just kissed her. He was playing with her. Well, two could play this game.
She moved her leg so her foot rubbed up and down his calf, all the time watching the stage with pretended interest. Alex inched their joined hands more toward the inside of his thigh until they were inches from his manhood.
Sweat broke out on her upper lip. “Do you have a handkerchief, Your Grace?”
He turned to her as if surprised by her presence next to him. She wanted to kick him.
“Of course, Your Grace.” Keeping their hands joined, he reached with his other hand into his pocket and produced a handkerchief. Shaking it out, he handed it to her.
“Thank you.” She patted her upper lip and took a deep breath.
Alex dropped her hand, leaving her bereft of the contact and his warmth. He rested his arm on the back of her chair, shifting so his chair was closer to hers. His fingers touched the naked skin on her shoulder, again drawing circles on her sensitive flesh.
Anyone watching them would think Alex was riveted on the play. She knew better. The flair of his nostrils and the increased breathing told her he was no more focused on the play than she was. Time for her next move.
Leaning over so the bodice of her gown dipped almost to her nipples, she looked up at him. “Here is your handkerchief.” She held out the article and swore she heard Alex growl.
Mr. Templeton turned at the sound and grinned when he saw the two of them sitting close together.
“I find the air quite stifling, Your Grace. Would you care to accompany me to my carriage?” Alex’s voice was low and raspy, his eyes heavy-lidded.
“For a ride?” Lord, was that her voice?
“Yes.”
“Yes.” Patience stood and shook out her skirts. Alex took her by the elbow and escorted her out of the box, down the stairs, through the empty lobby, and into the night air.
…
Alex could not believe he had Patience only steps from his carriage. He waited for her to pull back and cut him down with her tongue. Could it be she had missed him as much as he’d missed her?
After speaking with John Coachman, he helped her into the carriage and climbed in. He sat across from her, tapped on the ceiling, and the vehicle moved forward. He held out his hand. “Come here.” Bloody hell, could she hear the desperation in his voice?
She hesitated for only a moment and then moved to his side of the carriage. Watching her from under lowered eyelids, he slowly removed her gloves, pulling the silky material off her hands. He raised her hands to his mouth and kissed each finger. “I’ve missed you.”
Patience closed her eyes and nodded. “Me, too,” her words barely a whisper.
They would need to talk, there was no doubt, but right now he wanted her. Needed her. Holding his breath, still expecting her to pull away, he placed his hand behind her head and drew her to him. She slid the distance between them and placed her hands on his chest. He held her head steady and brought his lips to hers.
Every prayer he had ever uttered had been answered. Two weeks of agony, of desperation, were wiped clean with her soft lips under his. What he wanted was to rip her clothes off and ravish her, but he held back. The last time they’d been together she’d called him a monster and a bully. He certainly did not want to prove her right.
Tonight would be about tenderness and caring. A way to show her his love, how he worshipped her, and wanted her back in his arms, in his house, in his bed, and in his life forever.
He pulled back and tucked a curl behind her ear. “The driver has been instructed to drive until I tap on the ceiling.” He gave her a soft smile.
“What are you trying to tell me?” A slight flush rose from the neckline of her gown to cover her adorable face.
He plopped her on his lap and licked the area around the soft shell of her ear. “I want you. Here. Now.”
Instead of the shocked expression he’d expected, she smiled and began to untie his cravat. He pulled her against his chest and worked her fasteners at the back of her gown. Next, he undid her stays and both garments dropped to her lap, leaving her beautiful breasts free.
The scant moonlight turned her alabaster skin ethereal. His hands moved over her breasts, thumbs lightly flicking the taut nipples. Patience let out a soft sigh and leaned into him, so his hands fully cupped her. Their lips met in an explosive kiss and all thoughts of tenderness vanished as a need so strong engulfed him—drove him to claim her as his…and only his, forever.
He pulled back, both of them panting. His hungry eyes searched her beloved face. The devil take it, he loved her so much. Never again would he let anything come between them. She was his and would always be. They would spend years making love, raising children, and growing old together. Nothing in his life would ever mean as much as she did.
When he had thought he’d lost her again, he knew the meaning of madness. Had he not been able to reclaim her, his life would have been meaningless. He would have spent his remaining years drinking himself into oblivion.
With her on his lap—warm, soft, and willing—he couldn’t wait, he was too desperate for the connection. “I’m afraid this won’t be as soft and loving as I intended.”
Patience shook her head. “No. I want this, I need this.”
They were the only words he needed to hear. He took her breast in his mouth, sucking hard, teasing her nipple with his tongue, then biting gently. Patience moaned and tightened her legs around him and fumbled with his falls, buttons popping as she pulled it open in frustration.
Her hands covered him, and he feared he would disgrace himself right there. He pushed her gown up, thankful that she was not fond of wearing drawers.
“Move up,” he mumbled against her breast. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her to her knees. She placed his cock against her opening and eased herself down, hissing as her warmth surrounded him. His mouth left her breast and covered her lips in a searing kiss.
He held her waist and moved her up and down until she caught the rhythm. She released his lips and struggling for breath, leaned her forehead against his, her sweet breath bathing him with satisfaction. This was where she belonged.
Patience used her thumbs to push the hair from his forehead. She leaned back and held his face in her hands. “I love you. I don’t want anything to ever come between us again.”
Tears sprang to his eyes, all the fear and unbearable images of his lonely future dropping from his shoulders like a cast-off shroud.
“My God, I love you so much, Patience.” Unable to say anymore, he closed his eyes and thrust deeply into her, pouring his seed, his heart, and his life, into her.