“Not that I believe you, Patience LaCroy, but why hasn’t Mr. Thomas come to see after you? Why did you wait to tell me?”
“It’s Patience Jordan. I haven’t heard from my father in a long time. Markham tore me away from my son after he’d kept us captive for weeks. I didn’t know if you’d be any different.”
“I’m not Markham.”
“Well, that is good, ’cause I swore to cut my tongue out if I ever kissed him.”
“Don’t. That would be a waste of a treasure.”
My cheeks felt hot again. “And hopefully you’ve come to know I’d never hurt my child. That I’m not crazy.”
“Why would I think you crazy? Because I met you dressed like a man?”
I closed my eyes, held my breath, then decided to blurt out the horrible truth. “Because Markham locked me away in Bedlam so that I’d never have custody of Lionel. Do you know what it’s like to be put away from society like you have no purpose and ripped away from the only thing that matters?”
He flinched, but not from pain. Something else.
If it was pity, I wanted none of it. I only wanted Lionel.
“R-Repington,” I said in a tone that didn’t demur, r’s rolling. I needed him to know I was his equal. “Do you understand why I had to deceive you? I’d risk everything to be back in Hamlin caring for my son.”
“Why tell me now? You’re good at your deceptions. You could have kept at it.”
I brushed at my loosed hair and stared into his eyes. They were cloudy like blue bottle glass. “Because I’m tired of deceiving you. Because I think if I haven’t proven to you that I can be trusted I never will. Because you love Lionel as I do.”
His face hardened, muscles tensing.
I was dizzy and tired of standing, but sitting next to him didn’t seem right.
“You are here for custody? Do you mind if I have these documents authenticated? I fought too hard to assure the boy’s safety to be easy with it now. Did Lady Shrewsbury know of this ruse? Who is St. Maur? The countess’s sister?”
The Widow’s Grace could not be unmasked. “I take responsibility for my actions. Jemina’s no relation to the countess. She’s an honorable widow, like me until Markham forced my hand.”
“Lionel is not going anywhere, and I need to determine what to believe.”
“This will now work to your favor. When Wellington recalls you, you’ll know Lionel is safe with his mother.”
“No one has made a decision on anything. I have custody of Lionel. That hasn’t changed.”
I wanted to press him, but how could I, dropping this secret upon him. Though I felt free, he looked confused.
My heart stilled. I clasped my elbows. “I expect nothing less. You shall twist over every aspect until you’ve come to the right decision, the only one. You know what I’m saying is true.”
He set the trust documents down and rubbed his chin, the light stubble that had tickled my cheek.
“If this is the truth, you’ve deceived me twice. How long were you going to keep up this charade?”
“As long as I could stand you ordering me around and telling me how to care for my own flesh and blood. I needed to prove I’m no danger.”
“Well, you’re dangerous, but not to Lionel.”
I didn’t understand why he had a distinction, but I wouldn’t argue with him.
“And Lionel’s part my flesh and blood, too, via Colin. And I haven’t done so badly.”
Emboldened, I dared to touch him again and smoothed his lapel. “You have done wonderfully. If Colin were here and thinking clearly, I think he’d be proud of how good you’ve been to his son. I am.”
“He wouldn’t be proud of you kissing me or me returning the favor.” He stared into my eyes. “Are you sure you’re not in love with me, even a little?”
“No more than you love me, R-Repington. Everyone knows that’s not possible. You don’t believe in such sentiment.”
The duke’s smile returned, one that made his countenance seem more at ease, more kissable. Then it disappeared. “What’s not possible? For me to love or for me to love you?”
“Does it matter? We have a common problem. Lionel’s custody.”
“Lionel’s no problem. We’ll figure this out. Colin made me that little boy’s guardian. I’ll not be remiss of my duty.”
“That duty has to be his safety. Colin and Markham owed a lot of money. I suspect Markham is still lurking, hoping to gain custody. My father structured a payment via my marital contract, one that will pass to my son’s guardian. Markham could be trying to harm you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“How do things go missing? How does a two-hundred-year-old chandelier suddenly fall? I suspect he’s getting in the house, causing mischief.”
“The chandelier was old. Things break.”
“Perhaps, but Markham’s still in the village. My father’s payment is four thousand pounds. It’s to be paid next month when Lionel turns four months. Quite the incentive.”
“Well, that will buy a new chandelier.”
“Repington, you’re at risk. If you are incapacitated, Markham becomes my son’s guardian. He gets the money and who knows what will happen to Lionel or myself.”
He leaned closer, tugging me to his chest. “Whether I believe you or not, you should know I’d never let anything happen to you or that baby.”
“But the chandelier still fell. You should put Lionel and me on a boat to Demerara. Then everyone’s safe.”
“No. No one’s leaving Hamlin. You’ll not run from battle, soldier.”
I smiled inside. In spite of all my deceptions, the duke believed me. “Then I must find proof of Markham’s duplicity to prove that you and Lionel are in danger.”
“No, LaCroy—Jordan—woman. That man is dangerous. He’s already hurt you.”
Those eyes of Repington penetrated my chest and spotted my softening spine. I was weak for the duke, but wasn’t he like Colin, who wanted me to obey orders, to live and do as he said? How long before he tired of my spirit . . . or my bed?
I wouldn’t be compliant.
I hadn’t risked all to surrender to fleeting feelings. Love didn’t last.
Backing away, I decided to be a picture of a woman who cared for nothing. I trailed my pinkie on his nose. “I’m not going to follow that order, Commander. As long as you take care and protect Lionel, I can do what needs to be done. Markham thinks I’m locked away in Bedlam, so I’m safe. I can work discreetly on determining his guilt.”
“His guilt? What are you thinking he’s done?”
I wasn’t ready to say that Markham was more responsible for Colin’s death than my letter. “I’m not sure, but I will find out.”
“Patience, you will defy a direct order?”
Glancing at this man, with honor glimmering in his eyes, I nodded. “My son and you are in danger. Markham is our enemy. Colin didn’t turn to me, not when he needed help. And I could’ve saved him. He didn’t think I’d pick up his sword and fight for him. I’ll defend his memory to Lionel by proving Markham’s guilt.”
The duke frowned, sort of like my baby before a burp. “It’s too risky, and none of this brings Colin back.”
“It will change what I tell Lionel. I can do this, unless you intend to toss me out.”
“If I did, you’d sneak back in dressed as a man. I told you I liked you better this way, even better in soft muslin.” He pressed his lips together for a second, then cleared his throat. “I still have to verify things, but I don’t toss out women. They usually leave me.”
I turned, but he reached out and clasped my hand, spinning me to him.
“Repington, I’m ready to withdraw.”
He was silent, staring, but lightly holding me in place. I could slip his grasp if I wanted.
I didn’t want to.
“You’ve explained a great deal except why you kissed me. Why, Patience LaCroy—or Patience Jordan, or whoever you are?”
Wi
th my fingertips, I combed a lock of his hair that had dropped onto his furrowed brow. The motion made him blonder, more godlike. Definitely one of those archangel types in regal burgundy.
“Why a kiss, Patience? Do you have feelings for me? Why risk anything for me?”
His tone riveted through me, trying to awaken a heart that had been put to sleep with my unhappy marriage. Playfully, I tugged at Repington’s lapels again. “You were blathering, and I didn’t think you’d let me kiss you after I confessed to another masquerade under your nose.”
“You could’ve just covered my mouth like Lionel does. You do love me, don’t you?”
“Non.”
“But you do like me?” His sigh, his rum-anointed breath smelled good, as his whisper fell upon my nose, my mouth. “Don’t you?”
If he felt my pulse racing, he’d know how I felt. If I hadn’t had my heart broken by the same kind of man, one who could only love me if I complied, I’d be fool enough to fall for Repington.
“Outside this room, Your Grace, we should keep up the pretense. Me being the nanny, you the crazed field commander.”
“Crazed? Who’s been to Bedlam? And it’s not crazy to demand order. I’m not sure if I like this arrangement. I don’t like falsehoods or pretending.”
“Would you rather it be known that the commander was deceived?” Very lightly, I put my hand on his thigh. I was careful with my touch, light and honoring what I knew of him. “I think you care what people think.”
The duke picked up my hand and clutched it to his chest. “Thoughts are meaningless. How one is treated is all that matters. I like you, Patience. You don’t treat me like an invalid. Don’t start now. And you’re mistaken if you think you have the upper hand.”
“Well, you have that hand now.”
He released me and fumbled with the belt of his robe. “I don’t have to go along with anything. Is my old friend the countess in on this, too?”
“I’m a widow. Lady Shrewsbury has a heart for widows. She’ll help any woman in trouble, no questions asked. My circumstances are dire. I’m at your mercy as much as I was under Markham. Male guardians have all the power on these shores.”
“There’s much to consider. But as I said, I’ll not toss you out. And I certainly won’t if these trust documents prove authentic. Besides, Lionel hates pap milk. He’s a taste for the good stuff. I don’t blame him.”
His joke—was it a failed attempt to cover the longing in his voice?
I took a long breath savoring the scent of him, rum, sandalwood, masculinity. “You know that Markham is the threat, not me?”
“Perhaps. But your pretty lips have lied to me twice.”
“I did what I had to do for Lionel.”
“And kissing me, was that for the boy, too?”
“Repington, some burdens are easier to bear than others.”
“Seems to me you haven’t been burdened enough. By Jove, your lips haven’t been kissed, not often enough. How can you be Colin’s widow? He was an amorous fellow.”
The light banter betwixt us died as shame and hurt and all things unrequited welled in my windpipe. I moved from him. “Your god knows Colin wasn’t himself, not in the end. You can stay in the master bedchamber, my old bedchamber, but I’m taking my Lionel next door to the adjoining bedroom.”
He reached for his crutch like he planned to give chase. “I am sorry—”
“No. Stay. Read my trust documents, pray to your Jove, and come to the only conclusion. I am Patience Jordan.”
“I’m not sure what I’d pray for in this moment other than there to be nothing but the naked truth between us. Nothing.”
I didn’t want to guess at his meaning, so I fled into the hall.
Looking up at the darkness of where the chandelier had been, I swam in my guilt, guilt for making eyes at my husband’s cousin.
Colin couldn’t be replaced so easily in my heart, my bed, my son’s life. Could he?
“If you’re here haunting, Colin, know I’m sorry. I won’t let you down this time.”
Carriage lanterns flashed outside.
Repington came from the drawing room and walked toward me. My documents stuck out of his robe pocket.
The doors of Hamlin opened. Lady Shrewsbury and her snowball Angora, Jemina, and the barrister came inside. They swept me up and ushered me to the stairs.
The duke was left standing in the hall, gaping at the invasion. I was glad he was down there and I was out of his reach.
CHAPTER 21
THE PROBLEM WITH CRAWLING
Busick’s men marched back and forth over the fresh snow. No leading them on horseback today. The riding platform was slick, too slippery to risk climbing, especially with his back aching. He’d need to be careful or he’d end up flat in bed for weeks.
A groan stirred deep inside as he leaned against the platform. Busick wasn’t the cautious sort, but what if the nanny was right? What if someone sabotaged the chandelier?
He pulled out his watch.
Five minutes to eleven.
Crawling practice with Lionel would begin on the hour. That is if what’s-her-name complied.
Mutiny stirred in those lovely dark eyes, but would she lie about concerns for his safety?
He crossed the field and took his spot beside Gantry.
Puffing his chest, Busick readied to dismiss the men. “Take care on patrol. We are a smaller contingent force, so we must be more vigilant.”
The snapping of palms of his men matched his salute and sounded crisp.
After the force dismissed, Gantry turned to him. “It’s good that you are keeping things light today.”
Suppressing a yawn, he checked his watch again. Ten to one. “Everyone was pushed very hard yesterday.”
Gantry nodded. His eyes showed his now trademark weariness. “Lady Shrewsbury had to return with another doctor last night for Mrs. LaCroy. I hope all is well.”
Busick didn’t know. He didn’t answer and paced to the balcony. He waited for Lady Shrewsbury and Mrs. St. Maur to tell him if Patience What’s-her-name was well, but they’d taken her to the third floor. The nice-looking gentleman—the too-nice-looking man flashy in an emerald-green waistcoat—in consult with the women didn’t bring him any comfort.
Jealousy was something he didn’t think he was susceptible to. If someone were to be his, they would be. Still, Patience was vulnerable.
Gantry met him at the balcony. “You look pretty sour for a man who escaped death again.”
“Sore. Not sour.”
“Would this mood have anything to do with nanny problems?”
Busick stopped and planted his crutch with a thud. “Why would you say that?”
“No bread this morning. I hear a woman bakes when she is happy.”
“Or when ordered to do so.”
“But you’d never do that. And you haven’t had to order her to do anything these weeks. When I passed her in the hall this morning, she didn’t look happy, either.”
“You saw her. She was up and about?”
“Yes. Moving quite slowly.”
The low clouds didn’t obscure his view of the vacant seats, the nannyless table. “I should cancel crawling practice today. She may be more hurt than she let on.”
The viscount’s face twisted. “Ummm. Crawling for a babe not yet four months old?” His friend steered in front of him and stopped at the base of the stairs. “Never mind about that. Tell me, what has occurred between you and the nanny?”
“There’s nothing.”
“Look at me, Repington. We’ve been friends for years. Your leg is amputated, and you never say a word. Don’t you trust me?”
“I trust you, Gantry, with my life. But you know how I am. I don’t want a fuss to be made.”
Tugging on his ribbon-tied hair as if he’d rip out a clump, the viscount moaned. “Then I won’t even ask why you’re back to the bandaged limb.”
“My leg is sore. The mechanical contraption is heavy. The straps chafe. It c
lacks when I walk. Falling with it wasn’t the best for my leg or my back.”
“Use your design mind and create a new one. Or get your nanny to whip you up something soothing. I hear she solved your Lionel’s red bottom issues with her coconut mash.”
Was Lionel still Busick’s?
“Duke, tell me.”
“The nanny. She says she’s my cousin’s wife, Lionel’s mother. I think that part is true, but I don’t know. How do I trust her when she deceived me?”
“Um . . . She nearly killed herself saving you from a falling chandelier. What type of sign are you looking for?” Gantry folded his arms and tapped his nose in a knowing fashion. “You’re brooding. And irritable. Yesterday, you were as nervous as a true mother hen over this woman. Is this agitation about her hiding her identity or something else? Did you get rebuffed by the nanny? Did she send you to bed without dessert?”
“First, I always get dessert. That usually eases my troubles, but I may have been a little insensitive to her . . . about the deception.”
Brow cocked, Gantry stared at him.
“Well, maybe I was a lot insensitive about a lot of things, but she misled me.”
“Women have their reasons. I think we might have to be more open to listening.”
“Oh, this marital difficulty is working you. Buck up, man. We have to have principles.”
“Yes. Principles. Yours and mine, have done us quite well. I’m wifeless and you’re irritable with no bread. We’ve been quite principled.”
Busick wasn’t alone. He was still Lionel’s guardian, and for a good stretch, he had a woman who cared about him.
The faux nanny, more-than-likely wife to his late cousin, did push him out of the way of the chandelier’s fall.
She did kiss him last night.
Kissed him like a suitor.
Then left him like a rake and went upstairs with a stranger.
“Duke, soldiers for hire don’t quite make a family. But a woman of substance and a child I know you adore, that has the makings of a fine dessert.
“You sound like my mother. Always trying to arrange things to make up for her scandalous behavior. Lucky for me, her latest friend has kept her from darkening my doorstep.”
A Duke, the Lady, and a Baby Page 18
