by Regina Scott
Harry led Patience back to the sofa, but Gussie paced around the room, skirts rustling.
“What’s happening, Harry?” she demanded. “And don’t tell me you’re going to look at property. I cannot conceive Julian wants to locate all the way out here.”
Julian inclined his head in acknowledgement. “You know me well, madam.”
“We’re going to France tomorrow,” Harry told his aunt, though his gaze remained on Patience. “We intend to free Lady de Maupassant.”
Gussie’s eyes lit. “Excellent. I can hardly wait to meet her.”
All enthusiasm, like her nephew. “But what will you do with the lady when you return?” Patience asked. “Surely people will wonder if a Frenchwoman suddenly shows up at the manor.”
“We’ll hide her in the village,” Julian said with a glance their way. “Once the causeway opens, I can take her safely to London. Villers and his sister can leave as well. That rids us of any potential witnesses.”
Gussie’s nod set her greying curls to bobbing. “Perfect. Then you’ll be off in the morning.”
“That’s the plan,” Harry replied, though he did not sound as delighted as his aunt.
Julian straightened. “Well, if we’re done here, I should sleep. See you in the morning, Harry.”
Harry nodded, and Julian saw himself out. Gussie came around the sofa to face him and Patience.
“I won’t tell you to be careful, Harry. You won’t be. Just come home.” She bent and kissed his cheek. Straightening, she eyed Patience.
“I am impressed with your mother’s ointment. Perhaps we could improve upon it. It will be our next experiment.”
Patience could only stare as she sailed from the room.
“You’ve made a conquest,” Harry teased, rising and pulling her up.
“Until she decides to try something more interesting, like turnips.” Sobering, she gazed up at him. “Are you truly prepared for this?”
He smiled. “Believe it or not, I am. Julian spoke with Undene today. He’s the fellow who bumped into me at services. He’s learned where my contact is being held. Our men are loyal and skilled. We’ll be to France and back before you know it.”
Not likely. Already she felt each moment pass too slowly. “I cannot be as confident as Gussie, so I will say it. Be careful, Harry.”
He wrinkled his nose, reminding her of his aunt. “Care is too highly praised.”
Patience shook her head. “How can you be so cavalier? You’re heading for France, our sworn enemy. It is worth your life to even set foot on the shore.”
“And there are those in England who would say good riddance.”
“Stop that,” Patience scolded. “You have been a true gentleman. I see that now.”
He sighed. “Now who’s caught up in the game? I’m an Orwell, the spawn of a pirate, a dastard, and a cheat. No one on the ton would ever believe I could aspire to more.”
It hurt to hear him talk of it. “But I know,” she countered. “Gussie knows. You must listen to your conscience, Harry.”
He did not argue, turning their joined hands back and forth as if mesmerized by her touch. “And you, Patience? Do you listen only to your conscience?”
“I try,” she said. And she knew what it said now. She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to the firm, stubbled cheek. “Please, be careful. Come home to me.”
He watched her as she dropped back onto her feet. “I will do my best for you, Patience. Never less.”
She could only pray he would keep his word. For if something happened to Harry, her life would never be the same.
~~~
Harry and Julian were gone by the time she came down to breakfast the next morning. To further the ruse, they’d taken the coach and travel bags. Patience wasn’t sure where they intended to leave the horses, but likely one of the smuggler’s families would care for the team. That left her to play her role as Harry’s bride-to-be.
Chaperoned by Lydia, she brought Beau Villers breakfast and supper in bed, staying to feed him and offer solace. She wasn’t sure how he felt about her reading from the Bible to him. He would lie back and close his eyes, and she was never entirely sure whether he was sleeping or hoping she would go away. In truth, she wasn’t there just to encourage him. She wanted to be certain he had no opportunity to follow Harry.
She needn’t have worried. He remained waxy pale and weak, only beginning to recover as she fed him.
“Your presence is appreciated,” he told her. “Sometimes I think that valet is trying to poison me.”
The tall fellow slipped back into the dressing room as if wounded. It couldn’t be easy being the manservant for someone like Mr. Villers. It wasn’t even easy taking pity on him.
Lydia didn’t agree. “You are very good with invalids,” she told Patience as they left him sleeping one afternoon and retreated down the stairs.
“I have had a great deal of practice,” Patience reminded her.
She had less practice waiting. She and Lydia worked with Gussie in the laboratory, trying different versions of her mother’s ointment that amused Gussie and only occasionally required the house to be aired out. Sometimes Meredith joined them, leaving Fortune safely with Emma, who Patience suspected spoiled her with treats and play. Other times, Patience or Lydia kept Meredith company. But no matter what she was doing, Patience ran to the windows at the least sound outside. She also stared out her curtains for hours, Fortune curled in her lap, before finally falling asleep beside Meredith. Her prayers became focused on a single thought: Please, Lord, keep Harry safe.
On the afternoon of the third day, while working in the laboratory with Gussie and Lydia, she heard a carriage passing the house. Gussie and Lydia exchanged fond smiles as she darted for the door. Sure enough, Harry’s carriage had just stopped beside the stable block. She held her breath as Mr. Mayes alighted. Patience tilted her head, trying to see around him, through him. Where was Harry?
He climbed down a moment later, and she could breathe again. Indeed, she hadn’t realized what a lovely day it was until Harry turned and aimed his smile her way.
Then she was running, and so was he. He met her on the lawn, caught her close.
“You did it,” she murmured. “You came back.”
“I would never break a promise to you,” he murmured. His lips brushed her temple, soft, reverent. If only it wasn’t all an act!
He drew back but kept one arm around her waist as his friend approached. Their smiling faces told her much of what she wanted to know.
“Then everything went as planned?” she asked, glad they were in the middle of the lawn where no one could overhear.
“Perfectly,” Mr. Mayes said.
“It was almost too easy,” Harry agreed. “We landed with a group of smugglers and came off the same way. The guards at the prison house where she was held gave us no trouble, and the soldiers stationed in the town were too busy intimidating other citizens to notice our passage.”
Patience eyed him. He seemed more weary than triumphant. “You sound disappointed.”
“Surprised, more like,” Harry told her. “We left her with Undene and his wife in the village.”
“Where she will stay until the causeway is open,” Mr. Mayes added.
“Mr. Cuddlestone says that will be any day,” Patience promised them. “But could you take her across by boat?”
“Too open,” Harry said, starting for the house. Patience fell into step beside him. “We’d be at the mercy of anyone who wanted to take a shot.”
Patience shivered.
Harry drew her closer. “Don’t worry, Patience. We’re almost done with all this.”
“We are?” She searched his face. “Will you stop your work?”
“Not Harry,” Mr. Mayes said, slapping him on the back. “He’s too important to the War Office.”
Harry paused, tipping his head for the house. “Tell Gussie I’ll be right in, Julian.”
Julian glanced at Patience but nodded and moved to
the door.
Patience steeled herself to hear what Harry had to say. He took both her hands, held them close as he had done when he’d tried to persuade her to play his bride.
“Don’t ask me to lie anymore, Harry,” she said, gaze dropping. “I’m finding it harder and harder to play the game.”
He squeezed her hands. “So am I, Patience. I should have been focused on rescuing Yvette, but all I could think about was coming home, to you.”
She glanced up. The tender look in his eyes was nearly her undoing.
“If I could persuade the War Office there was another way,” he said, each word slow and hesitant, “would you be willing to stay on at Foulness Manor?”
“Stay on? As Gussie’s assistant?”
“Perhaps more.” He lowered his head, and she raised her chin to allow her lips to meet his, hope mingling with joy.
“Harry!”
Gussie came rushing out of the laboratory and enveloped them both in a hug, nearly knocking the breath from Patience.
“Oh, Harry, you’re back. I can’t wait to show you what Patience and I have been up to. And Lydia, of course. That girl is surprisingly useful.” She stepped back and beamed at them both. “Well? What are you waiting for? Come inside before it starts to rain again.” She seized Harry’s hand and started tugging him toward the house.
“Later,” Harry murmured to Patience, and she knew she would have to wait a while longer.
Still, she couldn’t help smiling as Gussie explained their progress to Harry, gesticulating so wildly that the herbs rustled on the rafters. Harry caught Patience’s eye and grinned, and she felt her cheeks warming. Though Gussie and Lydia outdid themselves to tell him everything, it was as if all the words bounced off a bubble that enclosed her and Harry inside. She felt a little like a bubble herself as she floated upstairs to change for dinner.
Harry had feelings for her. Harry wanted her to stay.
She came down to find Mr. Cuddlestone pacing the entry hall. He rushed to meet her as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“It isn’t right, miss. The manor was never intended for entertaining. We only have so much room. What am I to do with another guest?”
Patience frowned. “Another guest? Is the causeway open?”
“Not that I’ve heard, yet here she is, claiming she was invited.” He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “Claiming she is related.”
Something settled like a rock in her stomach. “Where have you put this person?”
He straightened. “She insisted upon waiting in the withdrawing room. I sent Wilkins for Sir Harry. I wasn’t about to leave her alone downstairs.”
Footfalls echoed above, and Harry came down the stairs. “What’s this about another guest?”
“In the withdrawing room,” Patience offered as Mr. Cuddlestone drew himself up as if to deliver a scold. “Perhaps we should go see.” She took Harry’s arm and led him toward the door.
A petite woman was sitting on the sofa. Even though her simple spruce-colored wool gown was unornamented, she perched with head high as if holding court. A crop of short, strawberry blond curls clustered around her oval face in the bold style favored by Caro Lamb, and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. Her features were fine-boned and delicate.
Harry was as still as a statue beside Patience. “Yvette?”
She rose, smile pretty.
“But of course, my dear ‘Arry,” she said in a lilting voice. “You do not think I would languish away without you?” She turned her smile on Patience. “And you must be the chère amie ‘Arry has been boasting of. Shall we fight a duel over him now, or do you wish dinner first?”
Chapter Seventeen
Harry nearly groaned aloud. He was used to Yvette’s teasing. She had grown up the little sister of two older brothers, who had taught her to ride and box. Her subterfuge, passing secrets from various French leaders to England, had imparted other skills. Yet even incarceration had not dimmed the sparkle that drew people to her. Perhaps that was why the guards had been so easily bribed to allow Harry and Julian to rescue her. Her charm might also be why Undene hadn’t stopped her before she made her way to the manor.
Patience recovered before he did, offering Yvette a polite smile. “You are in England now, mademoiselle. Here ladies do not fight with pistols and cutlass. We wound each other with consequence while smiling.”
“Ha!” Yvette grinned at Harry. “Her, I like.”
Harry shook himself. “What are you doing here? You were safer in the village.”
She made a face. “Mais non, I was like a peacock in the henhouse. Everyone remarked upon it. I am better here.” She leaned back against the sofa as if making herself at home. “I have told everyone in the village that I am your cousin. You must introduce me to my new aunt.”
Patience plucked at Harry’s sleeve. “Much as I hate to interrupt this family reunion, we will have company soon, and we need to know what to say.”
As if he agreed, Cuddlestone strode into the room. “The other guests will be down shortly, Sir Harold. What would you like me to do with this person?”
Patience turned to the butler. “My apologies, Mr. Cuddlestone. In all the excitement of having Harry home I neglected to inform you that his cousin will be joining us.”
Cuddlestone stared at Yvette, who wiggled her fingers at him in greeting. “Cousin?”
“Mais oui,” Yvette said. “Why else would I come at such a time?”
“Move Miss Villers in with Miss Thorn,” Patience advised him. “I will explain the situation to them. Miss Orwell and I can share a room. And would you ask Cook to hold off dinner for another half hour?”
“Very good, miss,” Cuddlestone said with a look to Harry as if to say this is how a household should be run. “I’ll have the staff make the exchange while you are all at dinner.” He bowed and left the room.
Patience turned to Harry. “Gussie next, I think. She will need to play along. We must find an explanation for how your cousin arrived, where she’s been, and why she has no luggage.”
She was smooth as silk. How could he not admire a woman with such aplomb?
Yvette rose with fluid grace. “I have been living on a farm in the area. I am not acknowledged by the family, you see. My father married beneath him, a French émigré, which is why I have a French accent. ‘Arry in his great kindness decided to invite me for Easter.” She spread her skirts. “And this is all I own.”
Sadly, at the moment, the last part was true. And Undene’s wife had not been happy to part with her best dress and underthings so that Yvette could bathe and change out of the filth she’d been wearing in prison.
“Plausible,” Patience agreed.
“I am used to making up stories,” Yvette said, but there was no pride in the statement. “Let us continue.”
Harry wasn’t surprised when they located Gussie in the laboratory. Some days it was all he could do to pry her loose in time for dinner. What did surprise him was that Lydia had stayed with her instead of going upstairs to change for dinner with the other ladies. Before Harry could introduce Yvette, she marched up to Gussie.
“Ma chère tante.” She placed her hands on Gussie’s shoulders and planted a kiss on each cheek. “So very good to see you again.”
“And you,” Gussie said with a look to Harry.
“I met Cousin Yvette while Julian and I were traveling and invited her for Easter,” Harry said. “I know it’s been quite a while since we’ve seen her.”
“It seems like forever,” Gussie said with a tight smile.
Yvette released her to sniff the air. “But what do you cook?”
Gussie recovered herself. “It is a preparation designed to smooth and soothe the skin. Would you like to try it?”
“No!” Patience and Harry chorused.
Gussie blinked, but Yvette merely smiled. “Perhaps another time. I must be introduced to your guest.”
“Miss Villers,” Harry obligingly said, stepping forward, “may I i
ntroduce my cousin, Miss Orwell.”
Lydia beamed. “A pleasure to meet you.”
Yvette nodded. “And you. But Villers. It is a French name, non?”
The way Yvette pronounced it, it certainly sounded that way. Was that why Lydia’s brother had been snooping around? Had he more ties to France than Harry had thought?
Lydia didn’t seem to think so, for she shook her head. “No, Miss Orwell. I’m English through and through. But you must tell me more about yourself. Was your mother French?”
“Yes.” Yvette heaved a convincing sigh. “And I miss her every day.”
Lydia’s eyes widened. “Did you live through the Terror? Meet Napoleon? I’d love to hear all about it.”
Harry eyed her. They’d been so focused on Villers they had forgotten about Lydia. Patience seemed to think her more intelligent than Harry would have thought. Her look now was all enthusiasm as usual, but could her questions have a deeper purpose?
Yvette inclined her head. “Perhaps another time. I tire.” She turned to Harry. “Could we sit somewhere quiet until dinner?”
“Of course,” Patience said. “Gussie, Lydia, I took the liberty of asking Cook to set back dinner. Can you be ready in a half hour?”
Lydia nodded, starting to remove her apron. Gussie waved a hand. “Certainly, certainly. I can’t wait to become reacquainted with my niece.”
Leaving Lydia and Gussie behind, Harry led Patience and Yvette back toward the withdrawing room. “That went better than I’d hoped.”
“Perhaps,” Yvette said as they started across the entry hall. “But I wonder about your Miss Villers. She plays the innocent, yet I am certain I have heard the name Villers in France, and in high circles.” Her gaze darted about as if expecting someone to pop out from behind the paintings. “Her loyalties are divided, perhaps?”
“I think it more likely we should question her brother’s loyalties,” Harry told her.
Patience frowned. “But do you think he has the intestinal fortitude or ability? He never attempted to follow you and Mr. Mayes. He’s remained in bed most of the time you’ve been gone.”
“Perhaps he’s a consummate actor,” Harry said, “fooling us all.”
