by Kit Donner
The little white mare paraded proudly, her silky tail bobbing nobly with her even gait, keeping pace with the other two larger horses beside her.
After reaching Hyde Park, Red Tattoo untied Apples while Patience climbed down from the carriage. She struggled to jerk her basque down over her cramped breasts, not noticing the light in Bryce’s eyes. She nervously rearranged her little hat while awaiting instruction from Bryce.
“Would you rather take a ride in the carriage?” In fact, he thought, the way her breasts threatened to burst from their containment, that might indeed be a better idea.
Patience straightened her shoulders, chin high, and replied, “No, I need to try. I’m sure that with your assistance, I will manage admirably.” Courage ringed her words, no coward she.
Bryce smiled approvingly. “Good. First, let me introduce you to the lady who will be providing your ride.”
They walked in front of Apples, who stood at attention, watchfulness in her big brown eyes. As Patience pet the little mare’s nose, Bryce pulled off one of her gloves, and placed a shiny red apple in the palm of her hand, his hand warm on hers.
“Since she loves apples, this seems an appropriate gesture of friendship. Keep your hand very flat, like this,” he said, demonstrating by straightening her fingers, each touch a caress. Patience shivered in the sunlight from his heat, having to remind herself to pay attention to his instruction, his riding instruction. Oh, bother.
Together, they fed Apples before returning to the horse’s side. While Bryce prepared to lift Patience into the saddle, he watched as she wet her lips and hesitantly reached out to stroke Apples’s fine white coat, calling, “Easy, girl. Be gentle and stay still.”
She placed her foot in the stirrup and with Bryce’s help, raised herself into the saddle, swinging her right leg over the pommel. She sat still, adjusting to the feel of the mare beneath her as the horse grew accustomed to her. With his hand still on her calves, he looked up at her and asked, “How does she feel?”
“Good, I…I think,” her smile a bit confident and a bit shaky.
“Right then.” He leaned over to capture the reins and handed them to her. “Hold them here, but not too tight. Allow her some head. But not too much, show her who is in charge,” he told her in a calm fashion.
“Yes, not too tight and not too much. I shall try to remember.” She became a little frantic when the groom came to lead Patience and her mount around in a circle. She held her breath as Apples moved slowly and passively, following the lead. Bryce and his valet reseated themselves on their mounts with Bryce keeping a careful eye on his pupil.
After several circles, he called to her, “Do you think you can walk Apples on your own?”
She glanced at Bryce, and her excited expression captured his breath. With her lovely hazel eyes shining and the sun glinting red-gold on her hair, she was a vision. He allowed himself a moment of contentment and pride. She was truly his.
Single riders and carriages mobbed Hyde Park. More than one male rider stopped to admire Patience’s form on her little mare, but it only took a glare from Bryce to send them on their way.
Finally, at a signal from Bryce, the groom released the reins, and Patience nudged Apples toward Bryce and Defiance.
“How am I doing?” she asked brightly.
“Beautifully, as if you were born to ride,” he said, chuckling to himself about his double entendre.
“Shall we venture further afield, my lord?”
“With pleasure.”
As they walked their horses along the stone path, Patience explained, “When my father tried to teach me to ride astride, the horse spooked, and I fell off the horse. In the fall, I broke my leg and swore I would never mount another one of those beasts. You have disavowed my oath, my lord.” She turned to bestow another dazzling smile to the man beside her.
“Would you like to learn to ride astride? Perhaps when we return home to Paddock Green we can continue our instruction. Here in London, I fear, that unladylike behavior would cause too much gossip.” The way she looked at him made him want to promise her anything, as long as she never withheld from him that same warm smile.
Patience looked at him curiously but didn’t respond. Home, to Paddock Green? He planned to take her back with him? What did this mean? He had not yet mentioned love or marriage. Her heart tightened in a silent ache. What she wanted was to be with him, even forever would not be long enough. What about Rupert and her brothers? They needed her, and she knew they would find it difficult to live without her.
A loud sound snapped her out of her reverie. A gunshot blasted from a nearby copse of woods, frightening Apples. A woman screamed as the little mare took off with Patience clinging to the pommel, the reins dragging uselessly on the ground. Patience heard shouting behind her but could only hold on for dear life. She felt herself falling to the left, and fear seized her, remembering the broken leg years ago and knowing the pain would be much worse.
Several horses started out of her way as Apples swerved around other riders and carriages. The yelling from behind was deafened by the loud and rapid beat of her heart and the mare’s heavy pounding hooves. The pommel slipped beneath her gloved grasp, and she closed her eyes, her body tensed for the hard ground.
Just then Bryce brought Defiance beside her and made a grab for her as she slipped from the saddle. With great strength, he pulled her from Apples and lifted her onto his lap. A slow ripping sound accompanied his movements.
She clung to him, shaking at her near fall. He stroked her back while reining his stallion to a halt. He had to catch his breath, lost in fear when he saw the little white mare charge off down the path. Patience could have been seriously hurt, and he felt responsible. He held her tightly, noting one of the grooms had captured the runaway mare and brought her under control. Red Tattoo rode up beside him and shook his head.
Bryce’s mouth turned thin and grim. He nodded, turning Defiance to trot back up the path toward their coach. By the time they had reached his carriage, Patience’s breathing had returned to normal. She had lost her hat, and no amount of patting and puffing could undo her wayward hair. Her face pinched white, she gladly welcomed assistance dismounting from Bryce’s horse, still needing his steady hand when she reached the ground.
Throwing the reins to the groom, he assisted her into his carriage before turning briefly to Red Tattoo. Out of Patience’s hearing, his valet told him, “No sign of whoever it was shootin’. I think he was on foot and is probably lost in the crowd.”
Bryce’s face was a mask of controlled anger, a look Red had seen only a few times before. His lordship planned to do battle, and woe to his enemies unknowing of his reprisal.
“Do you think that bullet was meant for Patience?”
“It was terribly close to her mare,” Red at last told his master.
“Red, I’ve been careless where Patience’s safety is concerned and have no idea why someone would want to harm her. Now that I’ve been warned, I shall safeguard her with everything I have.” An avowal made from his heart. That part of him he had long forgotten after Edwards’s death. He could finally feel again.
Bryce climbed into the carriage and signaled Lucky to take them home. Surprisingly, Patience sat dry-eyed, staring dismally at her riding habit, more concerned over the habit than over her close chance with danger. The torn white shirt left a gaping hole to expose the tops of her creamy-white breasts. A tear in the basque’s shoulder revealed further damage.
When Bryce dropped onto the seat beside her, she sighed. “This is Martha’s. I don’t know if it can be repaired.” Her voice sounded so sad, she seemed on the verge of tears. Over a torn riding habit?
Puzzled, he did the only think he could think of, he drew her onto his lap and into his arms. She melted against him and all tension seemed to flow out of her body. They remained like this as Bryce tried to offer comfort to Patience and keep his body under control, obviously becoming increasingly difficult to do. The sight of her exposed skin ar
oused him most painfully. Surely she could feel his hardened member beneath her bottom. He willed his mind to put his own needs aside and concentrate on hers.
What was that? A warm mouth found the bottom of his jaw. In fact, Patience feathered the edge of his face with tiny kisses. He groaned, then turned to meet her seeking lips. She met him with an utmost urgency, her tongue sweeping into his mouth, probing, hot, and wet. She softly bit his lower lip before her teasing tongue came out to assuage the pleasure-pain. He reluctantly tore his lips from hers and sought the whiteness of her breasts, planting wet kisses along the warm mounds, swelling under his careful ministration.
His hands came up alongside each breast underneath her jacket to ply her hardened nipples. She sighed, willing his touch to continue.
Suddenly he broke away, carefully placing her on the leather seat and moving to the opposite side of the carriage. He should be more concerned about the disaster that had almost befallen Patience instead of pawing her beautiful form.
“How are you feeling? You must have been terrified when Apples took off with you. This experience may have only redoubled your fear of horses.” His concerned gaze captured her unfocused one.
Patience frowned in sweet confusion. What did he say? Something about apples and horses. Conversation for another time. She held out her arms to him, wanting him to return to her, offering a muted passionate plea.
But Bryce kept ahold of his gallantry and other senses, and held up his hand to forestall her with a smile. “No more. You must be in shock. You could have been killed.” He was trying to tell her something, but she resolutely closed her eyes, determined not to think about her near miss with death, only to dwell on that sinful mouth of his.
“You saved me,” she told him sweetly. “You always save me.” She smiled a little smile.
Bryce shook his head and leaned across to tip her face to his to gain her attention. “Little one, I hope I do not need to continue to rescue you. After all, how many lives do you have?” He knew he would come to her rescue whenever she needed him and refused to think about a possible time when he would not be there for her.
With great green eyes, she stared him down until he absolutely had to reclaim her mouth again.
The lovers reluctantly dragged themselves apart upon reaching his lordship’s town house. Stone met their carriage with an urgent message for Bryce from the PM demanding his presence immediately. Patience assured him she would be fine while climbing down from the carriage and thanked him very prettily for the flowers in the hallway.
With a gleam in his eye, Bryce told her, “Their beauty fades in comparison to your own, my dear.”
Martha hurried to inform Patience that Lady Elverston was waiting. Although Patience would have preferred time for a more thorough washing, a quick towel bath would have to suffice.
Patience changed into her lemon day gown after ruefully explaining to Martha how her riding habit had been torn. Her chaperone was horrified to hear what had happened, but relieved that no harm had come to the young lady, and assured Patience not to concern herself about the clothes.
Afterward, one of the maids, handy with comb and pins, artfully fashioned her hair in a lovely style of tendril curls around her face with the rest pulled back to the side with a silver comb. Patience patted her cheeks, pleased to see her natural color had returned.
Lady Elverston waited in the first-floor drawing room visiting with Martha. A large bow window offered a panoramic view of the street. Stone followed Patience with a tea tray while she greeted her guest. While Martha relaxed on the window seat, Patience poured tea.
Accepting a cup from her hostess, Lady Elverston mentioned, “I was extremely concerned over the earl’s and your disappearance last night at the Gardens. A slip of a note from a footman in apology certainly did not set my mind at rest. However, you appear to have suffered no ill affects. Might I inquire what exactly happened to the two of you?” her tone friendly but inquisitive.
Patience quickly decided to tell Lady Elverston almost the whole truth, leaving a few insignificant details—like the Frenchman—out of her story.
With eyes shining bright, her face slightly warm, she explained lightly, “I must confess to a lack of sensibility on my part. When my partner left to procure a refreshment, I thought I saw someone I knew outside. I followed him and got caught in the rain, destroying my gown. I fear I looked a sight. Lord Londringham found me in the Gardens and thought he should take me home, lest I catch a cold. There was nothing to it more than that.”
She leaned warily back in her chair, tensed to see how Lady Elverston would accept this abridged version of last night’s events.
The marchioness nodded thoughtfully but did not immediately reply. Speaking in a low voice so as not to alert Martha, engrossed in her book, Lady Elverston pinned a direct stare at Patience and asked, “You do have affection for Londringham, do you not?”
Patience stifled a startled gasp, unprepared for this direct assault. “I…I…yes, I do have affection for his lordship, who has been very kind to myself and others. I sense in him deep depths where no one really knows him.” She looked puzzled, wondering what more Lady Elverston wanted.
The older woman leaned forward and prompted, “And?”
“I respect his intelligence and wit. I marvel at his generosity and depth of understanding, and I wish I could take the sadness away that I see sometimes in his eyes when he thinks no one else has noticed.
“Without him, it is almost like I am missing a piece of my soul and that my life has stopped and cannot continue until he is with me again. My heart loses a beat when I see his tall form and his warm blue eyes that notice everything and everyone.
“He has the ability to make my heart smile with a touch of his hand or a soft word in my ear. He can also wound my spirit with the melancholy I sense in him. Then I only want to share his pain, but he won’t allow me close to him. Something tells me he has lived in darkness for a long time. I only wish to brighten his world.” She let her impassioned words fall softly around her. Her soliloquy convinced Lady Elverston and enraptured romantic Martha.
“That, my dear girl, is not affection,” Lady Elverston told Patience quite adamantly.
Patience raised her troubled eyes in shock at this suggestion. “It isn’t?”
“No, Patience that which you have just described is love, the very lasting kind.” She added thoughtfully, “I wonder how his lordship feels about you?”
Stone entered the room, intruding on their quiet conversation, carrying a silver tray with a calling card. “A gentleman to see you, Miss Patience.” He stared directly ahead.
Patience picked up the card. “Lord Ralingford. From the Gardens? Whatever do you suppose he could want?”
All three women drew to their feet when Lord Ralingford entered the room. Over one arm he carried Patience’s cape.
She fluttered a hand to her breast in amazement. “My lord, this is an unexpected pleasure,” her smile welcoming the immaculately-dressed older man.
He acknowledged Lady Elverston and Martha before accepting a cup of tea from Patience and resting on the brocade sofa. His dark brown eyes lingered on Patience’s warm face.
His baritone voice echoed in the room: “My apologies for interrupting your tête-à-tête. I was anxious over your sudden disappearance last night and needed to assure myself that no harm had come to you. Also, the return of your cape gave me reason to hope for admittance.”
Patience blushed slightly, wondering what Lady Elverston thought of this older man coming to call. “I’m certainly overwhelmed and grateful for your thoughtfulness and for returning my cape, Lord Ralingford. As I mentioned to Lady Elverston, I thought I saw someone I knew and ran outside to confirm my suspicions, however the person disappeared and I became caught in the downpour. Fortunately, Lord Londringham found me and we returned home. No more of an adventure than that,” Patience tossed off with a laugh.
Lord Ralingford acknowledged her story with a nod. “Pleas
e believe me, my lady, when I say that I am completely restored by the sight of your good health. May you continue to bloom as the flowers I saw in the hallway.”
Patience chewed indelicately on a nail, unsure how to prompt his retreat.
“I wish not to overstay my welcome since I have accomplished my mission. If I may be allowed to call on you, perhaps in the future?” Lord Ralingford bent over her hand and placed a soft kiss on it.
Biting her lip nervously, she wondered in dismay, was this man making love to her? And if so, how to refuse him gently? Although not engaged, she did belong to another man. And always would.
She stood up and walked him to the door. Taking a deep breath for confidence, Patience smiled brightly. “Thank you very kindly for the return of my cape. You will always be welcome here as a friend.”
Lord Ralingford smiled in understanding. “I am content with your offer, hope ever strong in my breast that we will one day know each other better.” He silently departed.
“Whew!” Patience sighed, then returned to her chair upon Lord Ralingford’s departure. “Such a nice gentleman. Did you not think so, Martha?”
Martha didn’t respond—watching their visitor walking down the steps and into his carriage, she never heard the question.
Patience turned her attention once again to Lady Elverston. “My lady, knowing how I feel about his lordship, I wondered, I hope…that is, I would that you would tell me more about him.”
The older woman’s eyes grew distant, and Patience thought she had intruded too much on their friendship.
“Please believe me when I say that I want to make him happy. But I can’t, if I don’t know the cause of his pain. Can you help me? I know that you care a great deal about him.”
The marchioness nodded. “What little there is to tell has brought Londringham more pain than happiness for his years. His father died after Edward was born and Londringham was ten. His mother remarried a French nobleman, and soon they returned to France.
