The Notorious Bridegroom

by Kit Donner

  The crowd seemed disappointed to see them go, but at the duchess’s signal, the orchestra struck up the music, and the circus performer and her niece drifted from their memories, but not before the duchess caught Lady Elverston’s sleeve, quietly demanding an audience.

  A full fifteen minutes later, the greatly anticipated appearance of Viscount Dimton darkened the library where the little group awaited him. He strolled into the room, slightly weaving to one side, attesting to his consorting deeply with the bottle this evening. Even the anger alight in Bryce’s eyes and his intimidating presence by the fireplace failed to draw a response from the besotted man. The viscount tumbled toward a chair and nearly missed falling into his seat.

  Then in a slurred voice he asked Bryce, “What is this here all about? Footman tells me you need to see me, and I had to leave the card table, just when my luck was turning.”

  Wanting to break the man’s neck but controlling the outrage that simmered in him, Bryce addressed Dimton. “Do you know this woman?”

  Sally’s aunt spoke up, jumping from her seat on the sofa. “Of course, ’e do, ’e been payin’ me to watch the little brat for four years past. But ’e no longer bothers to send me even a shillin’ anymore. I says, pay me what I’m due or have ’is whelp back.”

  Patience and Sally watched the exchange quite closely. Bryce noted how tightly Patience held the child.

  He interrupted the callous woman. “Madam, how can you say these things about your niece?”

  The circus performer drew up her full five feet in a huff. “Yer lordship…” she began before jerking a finger at the bored viscount. “This one bratted me sister, and then she dies and I ’ave to look after the girl. Well, not no more. I’m bound for Europe, and I can’t take ’er with me.”

  Bryce and Patience looked at each other before he turned to Sally’s negligent father. “Is what she says true?”

  The mystified viscount seemed to be struggling to recall the past few minutes, let alone the past four years. He scrunched his eyes thoughtfully and burped. “Well, Londringham, I cannot seem to think on the mother, so long ago it was. You know how it is, we cannot take responsibility for every child that calls us Father. Why we would have to care for half of the bastards in England!”

  Bryce curled his lips in disgust. “I do look after my responsibilities, unlike men such as yourself, who disgrace their title and honor.” Cold loathing filled every pore in his body at the viscount’s dismissal of Sally and her mother.

  He looked at Sally’s aunt. “Do I understand you correctly that Viscount Dimton did support his daughter?”

  The painted woman backed up a step, seeming slightly unnerved by the man’s size and penetrating stare. “I can tell ye is a gentlemen, one what listens to a lady.” She patted her hair for effect. “Me sister, before she up and died a few years ago, says to me, ‘The Viscount Dimton, ’e’s the man what you needs to see. ’e’ll see to Sally.’ Back then, ’e was willin’ to spend a few coins to get me and ’is brat off ’is doorstop. But now, like I said, ’e won’t sends me no more bob.”

  Before anyone could reply, Patience approached the alleged father, with Sally’s hand in hers. “Lord Dimton, am I to understand you are unwilling to acknowledge your daughter or extend support for her?”

  Dimton looked cross at this unfortunate turn of events and at being confronted by such a vision in white. He mumbled, “Never said the girl was mine.”

  Patience looked at Sally’s aunt. “Are you willing to relinquish your guardianship of Sally?”

  The woman brightened at the thought. “I can’t take ’er with me, and I ’ave no money to feed ’er. Are ye willin’ to buy ’er off me ’ands?” Greed shimmered in her cold gleam.

  Bryce stepped forward and snarled, “You would sell your own niece?”

  “I needs to see to meself,” came her defensive reply.

  Bryce spared a quick glance at Patience holding Sally before informing Aunt Bella, “Then it is settled. Sally will no longer be in your care, but in mine. It’s not necessary to delay our stay in your company any longer. Miss Mandeley, please wait for me down the hall with Sally.”

  Upon hearing Bryce’s instructions, Patience smiled tenderly at Sally hopping up and down. “Let’s go home, dear.”

  Bryce watched Patience lead the little girl from the room, silently proud of his “white angel.” Then he turned to Sally’s aunt. A pouch of coins landed at her feet. “Neither of you”—he started, including in his glance the viscount, who still blinked in stupor at the events unfolding before him, and the aunt powdering her nose—“will ever lay claim on Sally again.” His harsh voice and hard expression forbid any further discussion, and he stalked out of the room.

  He caught up with Patience and Sally in the hall. In silence, they walked back to the ballroom where the dancing had resumed, circuited the hall, and walked down the steps to depart. Bryce handed a note to a footman for Lady Elverston. Few took notice of their quick departure, already forgetting the latest on dit of the earl and the house steward.

  The carriage rocked Sally to sleep on Patience’s lap as silence stretched between Patience and Bryce. She stroked Sally’s hair, compassion showing in her warm hazel eyes. She looked up, startled, when Bryce addressed her.

  “What shall we plan to do with our new charge?” His face was hidden in the darkness of the carriage.

  “I…I shall raise her myself.” Patience surprised herself by that answer. She hadn’t given it any clear thought but had only wanted to get the child away from her avaricious aunt and her drunken father. Patience returned her gaze to the sleeping Sally. “The little girl needs a home, something her aunt and father have certainly never been willing to provide for her.” Unknowingly, her face glowed with motherly concern.

  Her touch light on Sally’s golden locks, Bryce found himself jealous of the child, wanting Patience to look with tender love at him. No, with passionate love from those hazel eyes, he corrected himself. She looks so right holding the child, Bryce thought disconsolately. How would she look if she held my babe in her arms?

  Spellbound he couldn’t look away, but found himself arguing softly so as not to wake Sally. “The child needs a father as well.”

  Patience glanced across the carriage. “Yes, I agree with you. But I can care for her and my…” She hesitated at the word “brothers”—something he still didn’t know about.

  He ignored her comment. “The girl needs a father,” Bryce steadily maintained.

  Those were the last words spoken until they reached the town house.

  Chapter 20

  Shock mapped Melenroy’s world-weary face as she watched his lordship walk into the hallway carrying a sleeping child with Miss Patience not far behind in her white finery. She hurried over to the pair where Stone, ever vigilant, joined them.

  “Stone, do we have an extra bed where I might place the child?” Bryce inquired of his nonplussed servant.

  Patience interjected, “My lord, I would prefer for Sally to sleep with me tonight. I don’t want her afraid when she wakes in a strange bed and doesn’t recognize anyone.”

  Immediately understanding her wisdom, Bryce dismissed the servants and carefully shouldered the child up the stairs and down the long hallway to Patience’s room. He could hear Patience’s skirts rustling behind him.

  In her bedchamber, Bryce watched silently by the door as Patience removed Sally’s shoes and drew the counterpane over her, tucking Spring underneath the little girl’s arm. Anger started burning in him. Why did everyone command Patience’s loyalty but not him? Lem, Melenroy, Lady Elverston, young Mandeley, and, now, Sally. He shaded the anger from his face as she made her way over to the door and Bryce.

  “Thank you, my lord, for allowing Sally to stay the night,” she told him softly.

  Bryce nodded, his gaze remained on her sweet face. Since neither could think of a reason for him to linger, he brusquely told her good night and strode down the hallway.

  Patience couldn�
�t sleep. She sat by the window, only a friendly wind and Sally’s light breathing disturbing the welcomed night. The breeze tickled a strand of hair across her brow, and she swept it back with a sigh. She couldn’t sleep knowing she and Bryce had unfinished business between them. Just like before.

  If only he was awake, she would go to him and plead her case, remembering with a sharp pain the last time she visited his room. The black night painted with silver stars teased her further awake, accentuating unease and restlessness. She required a good book to take her mind off her troubles.

  Her hair beribboned behind her, Patience threw on her blue muslin dressing gown and slippers and tiptoed out the door, the stairs creaking slightly. Only the longcase clock chiming in the hallway knew of her presence. The doors to the little-used library were closed, as usual. Most of the household preferred the light cheeriness of the parlors.

  Turning the gold knob, she sidled through the doorway and closed the door quietly, not realizing she held her breath in fear she might disturb someone else’s reverie. All quiet. She leaned back against the door and exhaled before a startled peep burst forth.

  Bryce was kneeling before the fireplace, stirring the winking ashes to life to warm the drafty room. To her dismay, he wore only his black formal pantaloons. No shirt obscured her view of his broad, sinewy chest, his back and arm muscles flexing easily with his light task. What was he doing here? Perhaps he hadn’t heard her and she could slip right back out…

  “It appears that you have trouble sleeping as well.” His tone was neither angry nor friendly. Then he turned to face her, his blue eyes slightly chilly. “Do you need help selecting a book?”

  “Yes. No…I thought a book might help…” she trailed off. “But I’m finally feeling sleepy and think I might just—”

  “Stay,” he ordered.

  She gulped and waited patiently, her hands clenched behind her back.

  The time of reckoning had arrived.

  Bryce briefly stared at her frozen form before he gestured to a nearby chair. “You may sit if you choose. Since we appear to have the time and place alone together, we may as well conduct this interview.” He sat down in a chair near the fireplace, seeming informal but poised for attack, or so she imagined.

  Patience gulped back the fear lodged in her throat and rubbed her shoulders for warmth. She definitely needed a chair for support and retired to the one closest to the door, already planning her escape. Her heart beat with the flight of a butterfly as she waited for his wrathful explosion.

  In a pleasant but deadly soft voice, he told her, “No more charades. I want to know who you really are and why you are here. What lies have you told Lady Elverston about your identity?”

  She released a shaky sigh and wet her very dry lips. Where should she start? With that forbidding look on his face, her heart sank, knowing he could never forgive her deceit, no matter the reason.

  Straightening her back, she held her chin high until she ached. “I tell you, I have told no lies to your friend Lady Elverston, who has been most kind to me. I am known as Miss Patience Mandeley in Storrington.”

  “Your parents?”

  “Both dead for several years. My brother Louis is Baronet Mandeley of Storrington.”

  He raised one eyebrow, appearing to contemplate his next move. “What are you doing in Winchelsea? And more specifically why did you become a servant in my house?”

  Patience rubbed her sweaty palms, wishing she was anywhere but here. However, she did admit to herself, his questions were reasonable. Her missing onyx would have been of great comfort if she could find it. “It is terribly difficult for one to know where to begin.”

  Since she looked prepared to give him the entire history of her family beginning with the Saxons, Bryce thought he would assist her in abridging her narrative. “What about the night we met at the Mop Fair?”

  She shook her head. “No, my lord, it had begun before that. You see when my brother Rupert…”

  “The young man in prison wanted for murder and treason?”

  Her eyes round as carriage wheels, she nodded quickly.

  Bryce felt an unreasonable sense of relief float through him when he saw the confirmation.

  “Exactly, which is why I came to Winchelsea, to help Rupert clear these charges. Our solicitor in Storrington told me I needed proof of my brother’s innocence, which is the reason for my presence in Winchelsea.”

  Bryce shook his head, trying to follow her logic. “But why did you decide to pose as my housemaid?”

  “It seemed a good idea at the time and my only plan. You see, when I arrived in Winchelsea, I learned my brother was missing. I couldn’t return home yet and had nowhere to stay. I thought if I could perhaps gain employment in your household, I could be near Winchelsea and look for my brother.” She held her breath, afraid of his next question.

  He slumped down on the settee, still trying to fit the pieces together. He ran a tired hand across his brow. He continued, “You could have found a position practically anywhere, why my household in particular?”

  She sank deeper into her chair as the noose slipped even tighter. She couldn’t sit there another minute with his probing stare fixed on her. The night stars beckoned Patience through the undraped casement window. She walked over to the window, far from Bryce, to respond to his damning question.

  “I…I understood through my brother Rupert, who had it on good authority, that…that”—she cleared her throat and managed to say—“that you might be a spy selling secrets to the French. Rupert insisted that our cousin, Carstairs, believed you to be the French spy and that you had placed suspicion on Rupert to lead the constable away from you.” Her last words tumbled out on top of each other. Patience looked everywhere but at the man she had just accused of treason.

  Bryce stared incredulously at Patience. He didn’t know whether to be insulted or laugh, so he did neither.

  She continued, warming to her story, “You see, I thought if I worked in your household, I would be able to watch you, and when you did your spying, I could report you to the constable and clear my brother’s name.”

  He shook his head. Too fantastical a tale to be believed. And yet he did. He couldn’t summon anger with her when he thought of all the things she had done, all for her brother. He had never met anyone with such devoted loyalty, and he admired Patience for it. Even if she had been trying to imprison me. Only he knew that the constable would have never given her case against him any consideration.

  But he had to ask, almost to himself, “Carstairs told your brother I was a French spy?” He didn’t see her nod. It made perfect sense. Since Carstairs had worked for the French, Patience’s cousin had led the constable to Rupert, while misdirecting Rupert and Patience to him. Very clever.

  A thought occurred to him. He leapt from his seat and strode to where Patience stood waiting. He grabbed her shoulders, trying to see behind her frightened stare. “Is that why you came to my room that night? Did you decide perhaps if you made the supreme sacrifice it would be another way to find proof of my guilt?” So far gone in his quick rage, he missed the saddened pain in her big hazel eyes. Her thick hair fell over her shoulders, her ribbon slipping to the floor.

  She needed words to lessen his accusation, and closed her eyes against the stark anger lining his face. “No, I had no intention of staying with you. I only wanted to explain my whereabouts during the invasion scare. I knew then that you were incapable of treason or murder and wanted to ask you for help for Rupert, but I couldn’t find the words.” If she mentioned that she stayed with him that night because she loved him, would it have calmed the beast she saw in him?

  He still wouldn’t let her go. “When were you planning to tell me about your brother? You have had ample opportunity since that night,” his words calculating and accurate.

  She examined her clenched hands in front of her. “Afterwards, I determined to tell you the night we arrived in Town. But you know what happened. Later, Lady Elverston chatted wit
h me, and we agreed that you might be more convinced of my identity if I dressed the part.” She looked up to catch his shadowed glance. “I ask your forgiveness for the masquerade I played, surely a foolish thing to do. And I’m truly sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, reasoning you would have a good excuse for throwing me out on my ear.”

  She still had one more thing to say. In a faltering voice, Patience told him, “If I have hurt you, then I have only succeeded in hurting myself.” A tear slipped down before she could catch it.

  The angered lines in his face had smoothed into politeness during her apology. “This evening seemed important to you. Why?” his voice almost gentle.

  Fine tears brimmed in her eyes, her heart in a tight lock grip, she hiccupped. “I thought if you could see me as an equal, I might have earned your”—love, affection, she wished she could say—“regard.”

  He stood close enough to her that she could see the blue chips in his eyes melting. “You already had my…regard.” One more question would ease his mind. His hands lay gently on her shoulders. “Why did you stay when you learned the truth?”

  The hardest question of all. Why had she remained with him? What answer did he want to hear? That she couldn’t bear to leave him? Taking a deep breath, she said succinctly, “I thought you might help me save my brother. What other reason could there be?”

  An enigmatic mask curtained his face with an unknown emotion, his eyes a deeper blue than she had ever seen. “Yes, what other reason?” he murmured.

  She paused. “My lord, I’m sorry for the debacle tonight.” She thought it best to have done with all her mistakes.

  Bryce waved away her apology. “It will be forgotten in a day or two. I’m surprised you were not more distraught at your introduction to Society.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t know them before, and won’t in the future, unless they plan to visit my little village of Storrington.” She backed away from Bryce a few steps and sighed heavily. “My heart goes out to Lady Elverston. She worked so diligently in preparing for my success tonight. So much time devoted to a plan destroyed in minutes, a plan that never stood a chance of working.”