by Regina Scott
Patience’s face fell, and she moved to sit beside Meredith on the bed. “That was my life with Lady Carrolton.”
Meredith nodded. “So I had surmised. I am so very sorry, Patience. No one should have to endure what we did.”
Patience lay a hand on hers. “But you survived. You escaped that cruel bondage. You built your own business.”
Guilt was stronger than Patience’s grip. “Because of her. She died of heart failure, you see, and I learned she had left me a small fortune.”
Fortune mewed as if she recognized her name and pressed herself against Meredith’s side. She stroked the silky fur as she had so often since those dark days. “I promised myself I would use the money to help others abandoned as I had been.”
“And Jane and I are forever in your debt,” Patience assured her. “But your story is admirable. Surely Mr. Mayes would agree.”
“Not entirely,” Meredith said. She swallowed. Might as well tell her all. With Julian here, it was only a matter of time before the story came out.
She met Patience’s troubled gaze. “You see, my employer, Lady Winhaven, died in the middle of a tirade directed at me. There are those who say it was my fault, that I purposely drove her to it. That I killed my mistress, and I profited from her death.”
Chapter Eleven
Harry wasn’t sure why Patience had bolted for the house the moment he’d stopped the curricle on the drive. She’d been strangely quiet once he’d introduced her to Julian, even though his friend and colleague had kept the conversation light and general. As if he truly did delight in attending the house party. Harry could hardly wait to get Julian alone and find out the real reason for his arrival. Julian Mayes left London only for clients or in the service of the King.
As Gussie shepherded Lydia toward the house, Julian caught his arm. “Show me where to put my horse.”
Wilkins would have been happy to take charge of the animal. Julian clearly wanted to talk alone as badly as Harry did.
“Certainly,” Harry said agreeably. “We’ve added a new wing to the stable block since you were here last. I think you’ll find the space suitable.”
“Allow me to accompany you,” Villers said, stepping away from his sister. “I’m always interested in where to house a prime bit of horseflesh.”
Harry caught Gussie’s eye, and she darted between them. “But my dear Beau, how would Lydia and I get on without a gentleman to escort us?”
Harry turned away to keep from showing his grin at the uncharacteristic statement, but not before he saw equal shock on Villers’s face. Still the fellow was enough a slave to Society’s rules that he could not gainsay her, and Harry and Julian were able to make their escape.
“Was it this situation with France that brought you out here?” Harry asked as they walked Julian’s horse toward the stables. “How did you learn of it? I only spoke to Undene and his men last night and posted the note to Lord Hastings this morning. I can only hope it got through before the causeway closed.”
Julian frowned. “What’s happened that you must contact Lord Hastings?”
Harry pulled him up short under cover of the big oak. “Yvette de Maupassant has been imprisoned. I intend to rescue her.”
Julian whistled. “You don’t do it halfway, do you, my lad? You understand the risks.”
Harry nodded. “But I can’t leave her, Julian. Not after all she’s done for England.”
“Of course.” Julian stood taller as if he’d made a decision. “I’ll accompany you. Do you expect others? Trevithan? Laughton?”
“I’m hopeful,” Harry admitted, “but they may not reach us in time, particularly with the causeway out. Undene and his men could leave at any time.”
Julian started walking again, and Harry fell into step. “That doesn’t give me much room to work, then.”
Harry eyed him. “If you didn’t come at Lord Hastings’s request, what brings you to Essex?”
Julian looked sheepish. “I followed Miss Thorn from London, but the weather delayed me. Word was that the causeway was about to wash over. No coachman would chance it. I’ve been put up in Great Wakering for the last two days, but I decided to see for myself today. When I noticed you all on the other side, I had to try.”
Harry shook his head. “You came all this way after Miss Thorn? I can’t conceive you were that desperate to hire staff.”
“I have no need to hire, I assure you,” Julian said. He bowed his head as if studying the soggy ground. “You’ll think me mad. At times, I think myself mad. But I believe I knew her years ago. I can’t rest until I’m certain. She evaded me in town. When I learned she was heading your way, I had to follow.”
They reached the stables and commended Julian’s horse to the care of Harry’s two grooms, who promised to bring Julian’s saddle bags up to the house shortly. They would have their hands full seeing to the other horses and carriages as well.
“I’ve known you to pursue a winsome wench from time to time,” Harry told him as they started back toward the house, “but Miss Thorn does not seem the sort to be interested in a liaison.”
“Nor do I wish to offer her one,” Julian assured him. “I told you it sounded mad.” He lowered his voice as if even the rainy sky would judge him. “I was in love once—top over toes. I set out to make a fortune I could lay at her feet. She disappeared without a trace.”
Harry stared at him. For all the years he’d known Julian, he’d never seen him like this. “And her family, her friends knew nothing?”
Julian’s voice sounded bitter. “Her mother and father had passed. The cousin who inherited the estate claimed she had run off and good riddance. I asked around the area, but no one knew otherwise. I was not as well connected then, so I had no choice but to give up. And then I happened upon Miss Thorn, helping our old friend Wey with staffing. The duke had known my love and thought Miss Thorn looked familiar. The description, the age, and the similarity in names—my Mary Rose, her Meredith Thorn—was too coincidental. I have been pursuing her ever since.”
Harry shook his head. “What we do for love, eh? You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, though I can’t promise you that Miss Thorn will be receptive.”
Julian sighed as he strode across the grass, boots flashing. “What a web. Any other intrigues I should be aware of?”
Harry cast him a glance. “I suspect Beau Villers of spying for France.”
Julian started chuckling. “Beauford Villers, the opportunist, forever pushing his pretty sister at men who wouldn’t look twice?”
“The same. He’s been skulking around the house, asking questions.”
Julian’s face hardened. “Then turn him in to the War Office. Hastings would love to question him.”
“And I’d love to hear the answers. Unfortunately, I have no proof. All I know is that someone shot at me just as Undene and his men hit shore at the last run, and Villers has showed inordinate interest in Gussie’s work.”
“As an excuse to prolong his stay,” Julian guessed.
Harry pulled him into the shelter of the side of the manor, unwilling to share his friend with the others just yet. “Possibly. Patience suspects he intends to steal Gussie’s formulation.”
This time Julian laughed outright. “Oh, Harry, what an interesting life you lead.”
Harry laughed as well. “More than you know. Gussie decided I needed protecting from Lydia Villers, so she told her and her brother that Patience Ramsey and I are engaged.”
Julian’s brow shot up. “You sly dog. I wondered why the lady kept so close to you. I take it Miss Ramsey agreed to this charade.”
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “After a great deal of persuasion and the offer to relocate her to Bath with income to support herself.”
Julian shook his head. “I should hire her. My staff must negotiate on behalf of our clients on a regular basis, and I daresay none of them would have won so much.”
Harry grinned. “As I understand it, your Miss Thorn conducted th
e initial negotiations.”
That sobered him. Harry still struggled to see his friend as the romantic, pining away for years for his lost love. Julian had always struck him as clever, determined, and rather cunning.
“So, you are pretending an engagement to track a spy,” he said now, tone admiring, “all the while hosting an Easter house party, carrying on your usual activities for the Crown, and planning to travel behind enemy lines on a rescue mission. You’re a rather busy fellow.”
Harry chuckled again. “Far too busy some days, I promise you. At times, I feel as if I walk the causeway with water threatening on all sides.”
“I can imagine. What will you tell them if you and I are gone for two days or more to rescue Lady de Maupassant?”
“Good question,” Harry said.
Julian looked thoughtful. “We’ll claim I came down this way because I was interested in purchasing property in the area. We went to look at some acreage before the Easter holiday.”
A plausible story. “Gussie will play along. No one need suspect anything.”
“Not even your Miss Ramsey?” Julian asked.
“Oh, she suspects I’m up to something,” Harry said. “I’ve allowed her to think it was a married lady. So, she already believes the worst of me.”
And he could not help the melancholy that stole over him at the thought.
~~~
Patience came down from Meredith’s room determined to protect her friend. Mr. Mayes might be handsome with his red-gold hair so artfully mussed and those warm brown eyes, his build nearly as muscular as Harry’s, but he had clearly let Meredith down. How horridly she’d been treated, and by people who should have cared about her. Small wonder she strived now to prevent other gentlewomen from falling prey to the same circumstances.
Still, Patience could not agree that flight was the answer today.
“Surely you are much changed from the girl he knew,” she’d told her friend. “Even though he is a solicitor, he may not have heard about the case with Lady Winhaven.”
Meredith shook her head, clutching Fortune closer. “His mentor led the opposition. I barely escaped without seeing jail. Just the thought of facing him unnerves me.”
Patience gave her an encouraging smile. “You cannot leave, Meredith. You saw the state of the causeway. Mr. Mayes barely made it across. A carriage would be swept away. If you will not think of your own safety, think of Fortune.”
Meredith glanced down at the little grey cat in her lap. Fortune gazed up at her, unblinking.
Meredith squared her shoulders. “Very well. I’ll plead a headache tonight, but tomorrow I will go to the village to inquire about a boat.”
Patience knew when to give up. “I’ll make your excuses.”
And do what she could to determine why Julian Mayes had arrived at Foulness Manor now of all times.
Harry and his friend were just entering the house as she came down the stairs. Mr. Cuddlestone appeared to take the newcomer’s coat and hat, tsking at their wet state. He caught Patience’s eye and jerked his head toward the wall. Perplexed, Patience went to join him.
“There’s not another bedchamber available,” he whispered. “What am I to do with him?”
She didn’t question why he’d ask her. Gussie would have had no answer, and Harry’s answer would likely have gotten someone in trouble.
“Move my things in with Miss Thorn,” Patience advised him. “Mr. Mayes can have Sir Harry’s old room.”
He frowned. “But, miss, you’re Sir Harry’s lady. You should have the better room.”
“If I am Sir Harry’s lady, I can make decisions about the running of this household,” Patience informed him.
With a nod, he went to do as she’d instructed.
Mr. Mayes evinced every desire to change out of his travel gear, but Harry insisted that he greet the other guests first. As they started for the withdrawing room, Patience made a point to walk beside the newcomer.
“It’s an unexpected pleasure to have you with us,” she told him. “Harry never mentioned you were coming.”
“And isn’t that just like Harry?” he returned fondly with a look to his friend.
Perhaps. “Are there others we should be expecting?” she asked, glancing at Harry as well. “I am helping Gussie plan for Easter celebrations, so we should know who might be at table.”
Harry and Julian exchanged glances. So, they were up to something.
“You never know,” Harry said genially. “But at least with Julian here we’re almost even numbers at table. He can accompany Meredith.”
Not while she lived. “And leave Lydia to be partnered by her brother? How very unkind.” She linked arms with Mr. Mayes. “You must further your acquaintance with Miss Villers, sir. I think you’ll appreciate her. She has a bright energy.”
She felt a slight resistance, but he allowed himself to be dragged forward and introduced to everyone in the withdrawing room.
Gussie popped up and gave him a hug. Lydia giggled as he bowed over her hand, and her brother inclined his head in acknowledgement of his presence.
“And will Miss Thorn be joining us?” Mr. Mayes asked Patience with a winning smile.
“I fear she is unwell,” she told the room at large, going to take a seat near Gussie. “I suspect she’ll eat dinner in her room.”
“How sad,” Lydia said, making a face. “Perhaps I should go keep her company.”
“And I can make her a tisane,” Gussie offered.
“No need,” Patience hurriedly assured them both. “She has Fortune. I’m sure she’ll be fine in no time.”
“Fortune?” Mr. Mayes asked.
“Her cat,” Mr. Villers drawled before Patience could answer. “She’s more devoted to it than most engaged couples are to each other.” He eyed Harry pointedly.
As if to prove his devotion, Harry started toward Patience, but Mr. Mayes took the chair next to hers. Lydia arranged her creamy skirts to make room for Harry on the sofa. He promptly went to stand beside Patience. Gussie returned to the sofa, and Lydia’s face fell. Her brother took up residence beside the hearth.
“Quite the excitement this morning,” he said. “Will our newest arrival affect your plans, Harry?”
Plans? Patience glanced his way, but Harry only smiled. “Not that I know of. But Patience is doing most of the planning.”
Mr. Mayes aimed his smile her way. “Yes, Miss Ramsey, do tell us what you have planned the next few days. I hope Miss Thorn will be up to joining us. I understand you two came down together. Have you known her long?”
“Long enough to have formed a bond of admiration and loyalty,” Patience said.
Lydia clasped her hands in front of her ruffled muslin gown. “How lovely. I must say, I feel as if we’ve all grown closer these last few days.”
“At least some of us,” her brother shot back with another look to Harry.
“And some of us never grow at all,” Gussie said, scowling at Lydia’s brother.
Lydia glanced among them. “Have I missed something?”
Harry stalked to the window. “Nothing important. It seems the rain has stopped for the moment. You’ll excuse me while I take a turn in the garden. Lydia, would you care to join me?”
Lydia’s eyes widened, but she popped to her feet and rushed to take Harry’s arm. Her brother smirked as Harry led her from the room.
“Jackanapes,” Gussie muttered. She motioned to Mr. Villers. “Well, don’t just stand there, sir. Do your duty and converse politely with your elders.”
“Elders, madam?” he said, spreading his coat tails to seat himself beside her. “Why, you could easily pass for Lydia’s younger sister.”
Mr. Mayes turned away, smile firmly in place. “I hope this illness of your friend’s isn’t indicative of deeper malady. She is generally well?”
Was that concern she heard? His face betrayed nothing, but then he would not have been a good solicitor if every emotion was written there. “Quite well,” she told him
.
He nodded. “Excellent. And did I understand she operates an employment agency?”
Was his curiosity indicative of snobbery? Patience raised her chin. “She does indeed, and her clients sing her praises. But what of you, sir? A noted solicitor, I believe?”
He inclined his head. “I have had some success.”
“So, you earned your fortune and yet remain unmarried. Has no young lady caught your eye?”
He was silent a moment. Then he shifted, putting his back to the rest of the room and effectively shielding her from all other gazes. His eyes narrowed.
“The lady I loved disappeared with no word to me, and I have been trying to find her ever since. You might mention that to Miss Thorn next time you see her, good friend that you are.”
Chapter Twelve
Harry couldn’t remember spending such an evening before. His aunt’s quiet little house party had developed an undercurrent he could not like. Navigating it was like crossing the Channel the first time, constantly aware of the powerful currents beneath you, the waves around you, the challenges before you. Patience and Julian appeared to be at odds, Miss Thorn refused to come out of her room, Villers’s gaze lingered on Harry as if watching for the least sign of weakness, and Lydia stuck to Gussie’s side, gazing around at them all in obvious confusion. He was glad to bid everyone goodnight and retire.
He had suggested that Julian share his room, but Cuddlestone had informed him Patience had already seen to the arrangements. A shame. He wouldn’t have minded the company. He still could not accustom himself to sleeping in his father’s chambers. Cuddlestone had rearranged things on the dresser so that the playing cards were no longer visible, but Harry felt as if his father’s presence still hung in the air like smoke, darkening everything it touched. He had lived beneath the cloud all his life. Only friends like Julian, Wey, Carrolton, Worth, and some others of their classmates had been willing to see him as his own person. Many of them were high enough in government circles that they understood what he was doing now. They realized the need and were willing to stand by him as rumors swirled.
