She could have even now been in their clutches, being subjected to God knew what. The thought had Mathew tightening his grip on her. “Why did you leave the house when you knew I was coming to get you?”
Her laugh was more a snuffle. “I had already told my siblings we were not moving into your home, as I would not be dictated to by you.”
“Now, that doesn’t surprise me.”
“But Lucy had vowed that she and Charlie were going with you, and I should have listened to her.”
“Yes, you should have, but I know why you didn’t. Like me, you have always been the one in control.”
“But that was not why I left. I received a note telling me that Mr. Whitty, the investigator, wanted to see me, and as soon as I left the hackney I felt as if someone was watching me.”
“You were being watched by one of my men.”
“Is that how you knew I was abducted?”
“Yes.”
“He won’t stop, will he? My cousin. He’ll keep going until he succeeds.”
Her words were whispered, but Mathew heard them. “I will make him stop. This is no longer your problem to handle alone. Now the burden is shared.”
She turned in his arms, placing a hand on his chest. “He is a dangerous man. I won’t let him hurt you or your family.”
He kissed her lips, a soft, all too brief touch. “He will not harm us. We will talk of this later. You are tired now.”
He felt sleep drag her under, and for the remainder of the journey she slept in his arms, safe now from those who would harm her.
Mathew roused her as they pulled to a halt outside his house. “We are home now, Patience.”
“This is your home,” she whispered, sitting upright. Her hair was a black, tangled cloud falling to her waist.
“Your siblings are here, as I told you. I felt this was the best place to bring you until the danger has passed.”
He dismounted and lifted Patience down. Her legs were unsteady, so he swung her into his arms and carried her inside. Even at such an hour, his butler was waiting for him. No doubt his mother had put the household on alert.
“Wait, what of Charlie?” She tried to look over his shoulder.
“Tim has taken care of him. He will be given a bed and some food, then in the morning we will discuss what is to be done with him,” Mathew said.
“But he must be scared.”
“He has survived on his own. He’s lived in that hell hole I found you in, and from what I gather has no family. I think he will be all right in a warm bed with a full stomach until you can talk to him tomorrow.”
She looked up at him. “I have promised him a place in my household, as without him I fear I would have been found.”
“And we shall discuss it further in the morning, I promise. Now be a good girl and shut up.”
She did, resting her head on his chest once more.
“Which room is prepared for Miss Allender?”
“Second floor, my lord, second room on the left,” his butler said.
“I want a bath prepared, and alert Miss Lucy Allender that her sister is here. Then have a tray of food readied.”
“At once, my lord.”
“Should we not leave Lucy to sleep? And you have no need to rouse your servants for me. I can tend to myself.”
“For once, let someone look after you,” Mathew said.
“You can release me now. I can walk.”
She hadn’t lifted her head from his chest, so he ignored her request and started up the stairs. When he reached her room, he swung the door open and entered. A lamp had been lit, and Mathew placed her on the bed and went to stoke the fire.
“My arms feel as if I have fought a number of duels in succession,” Patience sighed.
“What do you know of duels?” he teased. Returning to her side, he looked into her eyes and saw the weariness in the blue depths and the shadows beneath. Running a thumb along one cheek, he studied her features.
“Nothing, and have no wish to.” She yawned again. “But I’m sure, having fenced regularly, that they are tiring on the arms.”
Mathew studied her face, every feature and curve. “I can look at no other face and see the beauty I see in yours.”
“Then you must have weakened eyesight,” she whispered, “as I am damp, dirty, and unkempt, my lord.”
“Yet still beautiful.” He lowered his head, holding her gaze with his until their lips met.
“Mathew…”
He swallowed her whisper and kissed her again until he heard the sound of feet approaching. Only then did he tear his lips away.
“Patience!” Lucy ran into the room. “Dear Lord, look at you.”
“I shall leave you now, but will talk with you later about what is to be done, Patience,” Mathew said.
“Thank you again, for finding me and keeping my family safe.”
He said nothing further, merely nodding his head before he left the room.
Patience let her sister tend to her. She was bathed and her hair was washed, then she was bundled into a nightdress before her hands were cleaned and the worst cuts covered in some kind of ointment. She ate ravenously from the tray Lucy had placed over her legs, and listened to what had taken place while she was gone.
“I fear Brantley will not stop, Patience.”
“We have always known that, Lucy, but we now have Mathew to help keep us safe.” She hadn’t wanted his help, but now that she had it, she could honestly say she knew only relief.
“Yes, and I am glad that you realize finally that we need his help.” Lucy rose to take the tray off Patience’s knees.
Patience felt she needed to defend herself. “I didn’t want him involved, as I had no wish for Brantley to hurt either him or his family. I wasn’t just being awkward.”
“I know, and for so long it has just been us, but now we must accept Mathew’s help, or I fear we will never be free of our cousin.” Lucy gave Patience a kiss, then pulled the blankets up to her chin. “Sleep now, Sister, and know we are safe.”
Patience had closed her eyes even before Lucy shut the door, happy to slip into slumber and forget about the day she had just endured.
She woke suddenly, attempting to evade her dreams, feeling the helplesness of the water enclosing her after she’d jumped from that building. She knew she was safe, but she could not seem to push the memory of the water from her head. Her hands shook as she remembered the terror she’d felt at not being able to reach Charlie and Lucy and the feeling of despair that she could not find her way home. Suddenly she wanted Mathew. The need inside her to be near him, to have him touch her again, was strong. Her heart was exposed once more, and that terrified Patience, because the pain of him breaking it was still so fresh.
The door to her room opened and she watched him walk inside. His eyes went to the bed, but he could not see that she was awake with only the faint glow from the fire to light the room. He was wearing breeches and a shirt, open at the collar. He closed the door behind him and walked to the hearth, then bent to coax the embers back to life and place more coals in it. That done, he rose and went to her window, where he closed the small gap in the curtains.
She shouldn’t feel so pleased that he was tending to her needs, ensuring she was safe and warm, but she was. This side of Mathew she had forgotten for so long, the man who saw to the comfort and safety of others. She’d cast him as her enemy, but now…now she could no longer see him in that light.
“You should be sleeping.” He was at her side now, one hand on her head, smoothing away a few curls.
“I did for a while, and now I’m awake.”
“And how do you feel?”
“Better, thank you.”
“Now, that’s a lie. In fact, I imagine every muscle in your body aches, and your hands sting like the devil.”
“Perhaps.”
“What woke you? Was it the pain, or something else?”
He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat, his face now inches from h
ers.
“The water closing over my head,” Patience whispered. “I felt it again, and that woke me.”
His fingers touched her cheek and the warmth in them soothed her. She should sit up because she was at a disadvantage with him above her, yet had no strength to do so, almost as if her body and brain had decided to slow down. She couldn’t seem to make them do anything.
“Of all the things that happened to you today, the water closing over your head woke you? Not being kidnapped, ridden though London while strangers held you captive, not being locked in that room, or even the struggle of pulling those boards free?”
“I don’t like water,” Patience said, looking up at him. Firelight flickered over the angles and planes of his face, and she felt her heart squeeze at the power in this man, the power he’d always had over her emotions even though she had tried to deny it.
“Yes, I remember Vauxhall.” He smiled down at her, his fingers now wrapping around the hand she had clenched around the covers.
“My cousin—”
“I have sent men out to look for him, and when I have his location I will be paying him a call.”
His features had not changed, and yet the subtle shift in his tone was enough to tell her of his feelings for Brantley Winston.
“I will come with you.”
“We shall talk more in the morning.”
Patience tried to tug her hand free and sit up, but he simply stood and braced his hands on the pillow beside her head.
“Winston is not intimidated by you, Patience. His type understands intimidation and menace, and I can provide that, if you will let me.”
“Will you stab or shoot him for me?”
“Gladly.”
“All right, then. I shall leave it for now, but we will talk more in the morning and perhaps I can come and watch.”
She was suddenly lifted and moved across the bed, and seconds later he was settled beside her.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought we could make up some terrible poetry, like we used to.”
Patience watched as he moved several pillows behind his head and wriggled until he was comfortable. His big body took up more than half of the space and his scent filled the air.
“You are in my bed,” she protested. “In the middle of the night. I’m not sure that is proper.”
He moved so quickly that she had no time to brace herself. His face was suddenly over hers, his hands on either side of her face once more. His kiss was soft and sensual, and every thought fled as he took her lips. When she was breathless, he pulled away.
“Now that would be improper. Terrible poetry is not.” His voice was unsteady, telling her that she was not the only one affected by the kiss.
“Oh,” was all she could manage as she attempted to breathe. “I don’t think you should do that.”
The look he gave her was wicked. “Yes, I should, and I will.”
She didn’t know how to answer that one, so she ignored it by changing the subject. “I don’t make up bad poetry any longer.” She had given that up many years ago, along with her dreams of happily-ever-afters.
“I must admit that it has been quite some time for me also. However, I am willing to try if you are.”
Was she? Could she lie here beside the man she had once loved, and was fairly sure she still did—or at the very least, something familiar was stirring inside her.
“Betty Bead was heard to say, you fool Bert Bead, you have yet to sow that seed, or harvest will be delayed. Berty declared that he had not heard and…” Mathew ran out of words.
“Stomped out the door to the pub, where he ate some grub, and proceeded to get bosky, so that when Betty came to find him, he called her an unsavory word, and he still walks with a limp to this day,” Patience said.
Mathew’s laugh was a low rumble.
“We were never very good at it, from what I remember.”
“You were not very good,” Patience corrected him. “I, however, was outstanding.”
She didn’t know how long they lay there making up verse after hideous verse, but she did know that at that moment, in that bed, she had never felt happier.
After a while her eyelids begin to droop as once again the day caught up with her.
“I am suddenly weary, Mathew.”
“Then go to sleep.”
She felt him roll to his side, then his fingers were on her cheek, stroking it softly, just like she used to do to Charlie when he was a babe. That was the last thing she was aware of: the man she loved, lulling her to sleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“So we are the hired thugs for this outing?”
Mathew nodded to the Duke of Stratton. “Yes, and the Toots brothers, but it is your titles I need at my back,” Mathew looked at Simon and Daniel as he entered the entranceway of Brantley Winston’s lodgings.
“Toots brothers?” Simon looked behind him at the two large men they’d left outside. “I thought they were new footmen in your household.”
“Patience employed their entire family to protect hers.”
“That is a very smart lady,” Simon said.
“Excellent. I left my wife’s bed to accompany you, just because I am a duke,” the Duke of Stratton muttered.
“A duke trumps a marquis and a viscount,” Simon said. “So stop your whining.”
Mathew had awakened beside Patience this morning. After watching her sleep last night for a while, he had surprisingly followed her into slumber. After he woke several hours later, he had slipped out of her room before she could realize that he’d been sleeping beside her. Recalling how she had looked this morning, with one hand resting above her head, clouds of black silken curls lying on the pillow, her lips open slightly, he vowed he would see her like that again, many more times. It had taken all his willpower to get out of that bed instead of kissing her awake, which had been his first instinct.
“Just so I have this straight in my head,” the duke said slowly. “Brantley Winston is responsible for putting the fear of God into the Allender family for many years, and yesterday he had Miss Allender abducted, simply to get her out of the way so he could dispose of her brother?”
“Nicely abbreviated, your grace,” Simon said, following Mathew up the stairs.
“It sounds like something my wife would read about in one of those hideous novels,” Daniel said.
Mathew knocked on the door and when there was no answer he simply turned the handle. When the door still did not yield, he threw his shoulder into it twice before it sprang open.
“Well, that’s certainly a way to announce your arrival,” Simon said as the door connected loudly with the wall.
Mathew stalked inside. His anger had been steadily building since yesterday. He wanted Brantley Winston, and he wanted him badly. He needed to make the man pay for what he had put Patience and her siblings through.
“What is the meaning of this?”
He found Patience’s cousin in bed with a woman, both of them naked. The woman took one look at who had just entered the room and screamed as she leapt out of bed and began scurrying about trying to clothe herself.
“Lady Alington, be sure to give my best to your husband when next you see him,” Daniel said as the woman ran from the room with her clothes clutched to her naked chest.
“I-I how dare you!” Brantley got out of bed and pulled up his breeches.
“That will do. No shirt is required for this conversation, Winston,” Mathew said, reining in his anger. It wouldn’t help the situation if he simply did what he wanted and took out his pistol and shot the man; then he would be in danger of exile, and he had no wish for that, not when he had a family who needed him, and Patience to woo.
“I demand an explanation, Lord Belmont!”
“You have yet to address my friends and me correctly, Winston,” Mathew said, watching the snake closely as he taunted him.
This man had tormented the woman he cared for and her family, and he would be made to pay. Mat
hew would see to it personally.
“I think considering you have stormed into my rooms without an invitation that I have every right to my behavior.”
“The word ‘right’ has many different connotations, don’t you think, Lord Kelkirk?”
“Indeed, Lord Belmont. There is the right to live or die.”
“The right to take up the title your father had before you,” Daniel said.
“The right to live a life without fear, and grow old.” Mathew said the last and watched Winston swallow several times.
“I, ah, have no idea why you are speaking to me in this manner.”
The arrogance of the man was breathtaking. That he believed no one would ever find out what he had been doing to the Allender family, even here in London, was beyond belief.
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Winston. You may have believed that the Allender family is without support, and an easy target for a man such as yourself, but I assure you they are not.”
“They are my cousins!” Winston looked outraged, and if Mathew had not known the man’s character he could almost have believed him. “I would never do anything to harm them.”
“You have tried many times to dispose of your cousin,” Mathew snarled, losing control of his temper. “You’ve intimidated when you should have cared. You’ve bullied and terrified that family into fearing for their lives!” Stepping closer, he landed a blow on the man’s jaw that sent him reeling backwards. “To have treated your own blood the way you have is beyond redemption!”
“Mathew, we need him coherent to talk to. Step away!”
He heard Simon’s words through the thunder of rage inside his head, and inhaled deeply.
“If I had my way, Winston, I would kill you now, and leave you lying in that bed in your own blood, yet my friends have told me I cannot,” he growled. “Therefore you will pack what you can carry and be on the first ship to America. If you were tried before a magistrate here, there would be a great deal of publicity, and I will not have your cousins dragged through that, much as I would like to see you fall from grace.”
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