Earl 0f St. Seville

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Earl 0f St. Seville Page 19

by Christina McKnight


  “A handsome devil with a tendency for wicked behavior.” He rubbed his stubbly chin as a wayward lock of hair hung over one eye.

  “I think you would be best described as a seafaring pirate with a delightful demeanor.”

  How had he banished her dour mood so readily?

  For a brief few minutes, Patience was able to forget about the dire situation awaiting her in the house. Her heart didn’t ache as it had when the rain had pelted her upturned face. She wasn’t dwelling on the thought of never seeing Sin again.

  He stood before her, towered over her. And she was content to realize that his presence made her feel safe and cared for. Not overpowered and ignored.

  She’d thought Sin had once and for all crushed her hopes for the future and would depart London with a piece of her heart hidden on his person.

  Could it be that did not have to be her fate?

  “When I told you I pondered offering myself to you in marriage—along with my sizeable dowry—I was gravely serious.” She’d dispelled the light, jesting air that had settled around them; however, Patience could not allow Sin to depart without knowing what her heart held, even if his feelings did not mirror her own.

  “You would do that to keep me from fighting?” he asked.

  “Partly.” Nothing in her years of getting in the fighting ring or going after the wealthiest, titled men of the peerage to plead her case had prepared her for this moment. She sensed his next question before he spoke the words—and she knew he deserved the truth.

  He drew closer to her, his warmth a welcome reprieve from the night. “And the other part?”

  “Because I cannot imagine a future without you,” she murmured, embarrassment staining her cheeks. “I know you likely think that just another naïve notion. We have known one another for such a short time, however—”

  “I have never thought any such thing.” His hand cupped her cheek, turning her eyes to his, and she swam in their warmth, nestled against the heat of his palm. Unease and anticipation burrowed within her when she saw her own desire and longing reflected in his eyes. “I could not accept your offer, no matter how much I longed to. London is where you belong, while I belong on Brownsea Island, close to my people and the ocean. I cannot ask you to leave your home, just as I know you would never ask me to remain in town.”

  “And if I told you there is nothing left for me here?” she challenged.

  “I would disagree, vehemently.” His fingers caressed her cheek. “What of your family?”

  Patience scoffed. “I love my family, but I have hurt them all with my crusade. My father has lost friends. My siblings…I can only image what my actions have done to them.”

  “They love you.”

  “As I love them, but even before you arrived, I had set my course on leaving London,” she said. “Perhaps retiring to my father’s country estate.”

  “What in heavens would you do there?”

  It was the same thing Patience had pondered. “Teach in the village schoolhouse. Mayhap take up tending the garden—my mother loved it so. Or I could learn a new sport. Archery is acceptable for women.”

  “And what of marriage?” His eyes narrowed. “And love?”

  Patience chuckled. “You know I am not particularly fond of any man who’s made my acquaintance. And love?” Her chest seized. “I shall come to love the country, the villagers, and perhaps a quiet existence. I will take up reading or science.”

  “You could do those things anywhere,” Sin mused.

  “I suppose I could.” Was he agreeing to her idea of moving to the country, or was he saying she should remain in town? “However, I do know London is not the place I wish to live.”

  “Brownsea has gardens and a wonderful village brimming with kind people.”

  “Brownsea?” Patience’s heart stopped before stuttering several times. “You cannot mean…”

  The words died on her lips. If she said the wrong thing, what would Sin think? However, remaining silent didn’t seem right either.

  “Lady Patience Lane.” He paused, clearing his throat, and Patience’s entire body tensed. He hadn’t been about to say what she longed to hear.

  A sob threatened to betray her disappointment. Could she survive another parting like the one in Seven Dials? At least she’d been the one to walk away then, and Sin had been made to watch her retreating back. This time, it would be Patience frozen to her spot as Sin walked away and out of her life.

  In that moment, Patience understood the pain her father had faced when her mother’s illness had progressed, and she passed away. She wanted to wrap her arms around Sin and hold him so tightly that he would be unable to leave. She would tell him anything, live her life doing his bidding if only he would promise never to leave her. Never to condemn her to a fate similar to her father’s.

  An empty shell.

  Without thought, Patience grabbed Sin’s shoulders and pulled him toward her at the same time she stood on her tiptoes.

  “Sin.” She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his, silently begging him not to pull away. It was a sensation of new beginnings, of longings always denied. His mouth was tender against hers as the draw to be closer to him, to wrap herself in his warmth, became inescapable. There was no room for doubt or uncertainty.

  Her heart soared ever higher when Sin wrapped his arms around her, pulling her so close to his body that her bosom pressed against his chest. The hammering of her heart kept pace with his as their lips melded.

  Suddenly, her heart stopped, and her breath hitched. Sin, with her in this moment, was the only thing that mattered to Patience. Not her father, not her past, not the many questions that would follow this moment. None of it held any significance if Sin was not with her.

  Patience’s fingers grasped his coat, refusing to allow him to move away.

  The feeling inside her…the urgent desire to be close to Sin, would not be fleeting nor diminish with time. Even distance would not lessen her longings.

  This was where Patience was meant to be, and it had nothing to do with London or the country or Brownsea.

  It wasn’t about a place but a person.

  Her mother, Ivory Bess, had been her father’s home…and Sin was hers.

  Wherever he was, so would be her heart.

  Too soon, Sin pulled back, cupping her face and bringing it close to his as Patience quivered, her legs straining from being on her tiptoes.

  “Lady Patience Lane.” This time, he didn’t pause, nor did he look the least bit hesitant. “If the offer stands, I would be honored to take you away from London to Brownsea Island—as my wife and countess.”

  “But, I thought”—She sucked in a deep breath—“I thought you said…”

  “I said I would never allow you to sacrifice your future to save my estate,” he finished for her. “However, if you shall have me, I have no intention of wedding you for your dowry.”

  “It is all I can bring to the union.”

  “You could not be more wrong,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “You will bring hope to Brownsea. You will bring your passion for helping others. And you will bring love.”

  Patience’s heart swelled at the mention of love. It was more than she’d ever dared to hope for.

  “We shall return to my home and bring with us our love.”

  Patience reached forward with trembling fingers and brushed a lock of hair from his face, sweeping it behind his ear. “For your people?”

  “Love for each other.”

  She’d known since the moment she agreed to return to Southlund’s House—for him—that her heart was no longer her own. But daring to hope that he felt the same was something she hadn’t allowed herself.

  “Patience, I love you with a depth I never thought possible. A moment without you by my side would be an eternity of emptiness.”

  “I love you, too, Sinclair Chambers.” She uttered his name for the first time, but it wasn’t right. Even St. Seville didn’t fit him properly. “
Sin,” she corrected.

  Just as her father had fallen in love with a bonny lass from Seven Dials, so had Patience fallen in love with a Corinthian prizefighter. There was a certain poetic note to the entire situation. She was certain they would face their own trials and tribulations, but that was more preferable than a lifetime without Sin.

  “St. Seville!” The sudden shout echoed across the garden, startling Patience from Sin’s hold.

  They both turned to see Valor leaning so far out Merit’s window he was in jeopardy of falling into the overgrown rose thicket below.

  “Whatever are you doing?” Patience shouted back. “Get back inside before you fall out.”

  “St. Seville. If you wed Patience, you will have no choice but to give Merit and I entrance to the Wicked Earls’ Club. I will have it added to the betrothal agreement.”

  “What in heavens?” Patience turned her questioning stare to Sin.

  He only shrugged, pressing his lips to her ear as he whispered, “They helped me back here, so I suppose I—we—owe them a small favor.” He turned and smiled up at her brothers. “I will speak with Coventry and see what I can do.”

  “See that you do,” Merit called over Valor’s shoulder.

  “I do not think it is a good idea at all, my lord,” Patience mumbled for Sin’s ears alone.

  “I have no doubt it is a terrible idea; however, if it is in the betrothal agreement, I will agree to anything to have you.”

  “You have already proven that.” Patience laughed, the sound echoing across the garden.

  Above them, the window closed, and her brothers disappeared from view, leaving only Sin and Patience—and the growing desire that had blossomed the moment she spotted him bare-chested in her home.

  Sin pulled her against him once more, and Patience didn’t stop herself from throwing her arms around his neck.

  She wanted this moment to last forever, this glimpse in time with the moon bright above and the air cold on her skin…with the promise of many more kisses to warm her.

  Chapter 19

  Sin grinned widely as he read the betrothal contract on the table separating him from the Earl of Desmond—and flanked on both sides by Lady Patience’s brothers, Merit and Valor. As promised, though most likely begrudgingly added by the earl, was a stipulation aimed at gaining some form of membership to the Wicked Earls’ Club for Merit and Valor.

  Some form of membership was a broad and vague term, and the Earl of Desmond had demanded, in a hushed whisper, that Sin only get his sons an invitation for a meal or two at the club and nothing more.

  It was an easy enough promise to make—far simpler to keep than those he’d made to Lady Patience.

  Sin glanced at the precisely written agreement one more time before dipping his quill into the ink pot at the right and signing his name.

  Honestly, it didn’t matter what he had to promise as long as Patience was to be his wife.

  As if knowing he needed her close, Patience’s light laughter sounded from across the room where she and her sisters were seated before the fire while the men handled important matters—or so the elder earl had stated. Sin, as well as Patience’s entire family, was sheltered inside Marsh Manor as the rains from several days before turned into a torrential downpour that made travel outside the city impossible.

  Sin glanced at Patience, not at all shocked to find her staring back at him.

  Her dark locks hung in perfect curls down her back, the front pinned at her crown with a pearl hairpin. A rosy flush stained her cheeks, and Sin had the desperate urge to join her and her sisters to discover what they laughed about…and chuckle along with them.

  Setting the quill aside, Sin pushed from his seat. “Will that be all, my lord?”

  In only a fortnight, Sin had gone from having only himself to depend on to save his lands and his people, to realizing that not only would Patience be with him through the many hard years to come but also her family…who were soon to be part of his family, as well.

  Desmond nodded. The exhaustion Sin had noted in the older man the night they met had seemingly disappeared. He even smiled before gesturing toward his three daughters, giving Sin permission to join them.

  “Our work is done here, my boy,” Desmond chuckled, collecting the paperwork.

  Sin had thought it best for the Desmond solicitor to be present, but the earl, as well as Merit and Valor, hadn’t thought it necessary. The betrothal agreement was standard, with no surprising terms besides that which dealt with the Wicked Earls’ Club, and Patience’s dowry was far more generous than Sin had expected. It was enough to see his estate returned to good standings with plenty left over for crops, repairs, and any needed equipment.

  His refusal to accept such a large portion of the Desmond coffers went unheard, and the earl said he would find it difficult to bear living so far from his youngest child; however, knowing the St. Seville estate was in proper order would make, as he’d said, “an old man sleep well at night.”

  Turning toward the gathering of women, Sin came face-to-face with Patience as she strolled in his direction.

  When had he realized that leaving her behind in London when he returned to Brownsea Island would never be an option for him? That night in his room at the Albany when she’d cleaned his wounds…their time at Southlund’s House…when they’d journeyed to the Strand?

  No, it was the moment she’d rushed to him in Bedford Square after Holstrom had turned his back on him and lifted him to his feet before helping him to her carriage.

  Whatever had been lacking within him, the gaping hole he hadn’t realized existed, had begun to fill in that moment.

  Sin held out his arms, and Patience, without a second’s hesitation, walked into them.

  “Is it done?” she asked, setting her cheek against his chest. “Everything is signed?”

  He nodded, placing a kiss to her forehead before tucking her head under his chin, no longer caring if the embrace was overly intimate. Everyone present wanted nothing but the best for Patience—and in quick order, she’d told her family exactly what would make her happy.

  Sin, the Earl of St. Seville…and no one else.

  It would be his life’s mission to make certain he was worthy of both of her love and her sacrifices—each and every day.

  “Are you certain this is what you desire?” he whispered. He knew he’d asked much of her: a life away from London and her family. “Brownsea is—”

  “…where I will be happy. As long as you are there.” She pulled back and gazed up at him. “I love you, Sin. I might’ve tried to fight it with everything I had, but my happiness, my heart, and my home are by your side.”

  Sin leaned down and placed his lips to hers, as if sealing her words and making his own promise in return. In that moment, it was only Patience who mattered. Her happiness and love guaranteed his future, and their future would be full of affection, adoration, and bliss.

  Epilogue

  Sin reclined on the lawn bordering his family’s home on Brownsea Island, Patience tucked by this side as they watched Juliette dance and sway on the sandy beach beyond. The temperature was overly warm for early summer, and he’d needed to reassure Patience that the weather would not always be so accommodating.

  Theirs were not the only eyes watching Juliette frolic with abandon.

  Desmond sat with Sin’s mother on the terrace overlooking the lawns while the two caught up on all things society related. They’d been in Dorset, on the isle, for nearly a month, and still, the older pair never ran out of topics that interested them.

  Perhaps it had been good for Desmond to make the journey with them.

  Unfortunately, Valor and Merit were also in residence.

  “Do stop that,” Patience chided, slapping Sin’s shoulder lightly.

  “Stop what?” He glanced down, taking in her sun-kissed skin.

  “You growled,” she laughed.

  “Well, I cannot say I relish the interest those two have taken in my dear sister,” Sin
retorted, watching as Valor danced beside Juliette, his knees rising high in a jig, all while Merit clapped along. “They pay her too much mind.”

  “Would you prefer they ignore her?” Patience questioned, pushing away from his chest to sit straight. She blocked the sun with her hand and watched the trio. “They do seem smitten, though, do they not?”

  Sin would rather Patience’s brothers kept their distance. “Juliette hasn’t so much as had her debut Season yet.”

  “Which will change soon enough,” Patience replied, leaning back into Sin and pressing her lips to his cheek.

  “Not soon enough for me.” Sin’s uneasy chuckle was drowned out by the distant waves. “Tell me, my Countess of St. Seville, do you miss London?”

  It was the main reason he’d thought they wouldn’t suit: she’d been raised in town, and Sin much preferred the open expanse of life on Brownsea. Even after their nuptials a few weeks prior, Sin had held his breath in anticipation of her confession that island life was not to her liking, and that she found herself restless with nothing to occupy her time. Though she seemed happy enough.

  He searched her face as she closed her eyes and tilted back her head once more, allowing the midday sun to caress her skin.

  “I do not think it is possible to miss town when Brownsea is so beautiful, the people overly kind, and”—She tilted her face to his but didn’t open her eyes, a smile playing on her lips—“leaving Brownsea would mean leaving my heart behind. Months ago, I was foolish enough to think that you held a piece of my heart, but now I’ve come to realize you hold all of it.”

  “So,” he prodded, “you do not miss Marsh Manor, society, and the endless entertainments?”

  Her brow furrowed, and her eyes opened to meet his.

  Why had he pressed the question?

  “Everything I love—besides my sisters and their husbands—is here. Why would I miss London? Do we not have endless entertainments to keep us busy, my lord? The land is still in need of tilling and planting, the thatcher roofs in the village need mending, and it is my hope that a few of the children apply themselves to their studies with enough vigor to see them to University when the time comes.”

 

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