The façade of the Allender townhouse was white brick and had two columns and neatly swept steps. It was attached to an identical one on either side, in a respectable part of London, just fifteen minutes’ ride from his house.
Mathew climbed the steps to the door and knocked, using the heavy brass ring, then stood back to wait for it to open. He had waited two days to pay this call, simply because he had been asking some questions about the Allender family and their cousin, and frustratingly none of the answers he’d received had told him anything was amiss.
He had also given Patience two days to calm down and perhaps lower her guard. If he had come when he’d said he would, she would have been waiting for him and prepared what she would say…or, more importantly, wouldn’t say to him. He hoped that by calling now, without sending word of his intentions, he would catch her off guard, and thus, she would tell him what he wanted to hear. A faint hope, but it was the only option he had.
Finally, a butler opened the door.
“Good day,” Mathew said. “My name is Lord Belmont, and I have called to see Miss Allender.”
The butler looked familiar, a big man with grey hair. He had eyes that Mathew was certain he had seen before.
“They are at present occupied, Lord Belmont.”
“I am happy to wait, as Miss Allender is aware of my intention to call at this time,” Mathew said. He had no compunction about lying. He wanted answers, and to get them, he had to see Patience.
Uncertainty crossed the man’s face, but he did not step aside.
“Perhaps if you would just tell her that Lord Belmont has called. We are old family friends, and if she is not at home, perhaps you could relay the message to Lucy or Charles?”
The use of their first names had the butler showing him to a room off the hall. After the man had left, Mathew walked around the room slowly, then back out to the hallway as he heard a shout. It didn’t seem to be an angry one, more one of encouragement. In fact, if he had heard correctly, it sounded like someone had called the words, Finish her, Charlie.
Following the noise, he walked upstairs to the next floor, then down a hallway. The house was welcoming, with a few pictures hanging on the walls and tables holding one or two ornaments, but unlike his house, the place was uncluttered. Every available surface did not house a small object, like his mother insisted theirs should.
“I’ll take you, brat! Just see if I don’t!”
“You can try, Sister, yet you shall not prevail!”
“Fight, you dastardly cur!”
What the hell was going on? Mathew wondered as he reached the door from behind which the voices were coming. Opening it quietly, he looked inside.
He saw Lucy Allender first, standing on a chair waving her hands about. To her right stood one of the footmen brothers; the other was on the other side of the room. Between them were Patience and Charlie, engaging in a fencing match.
She was wearing breeches and a loose shirt, her hair plaited in a long tail that hung down her spine, and she wielded a foil with ease. Opposing her was Charlie, his hair darkened by sweat as he fought back with an equally determined expression on his face.
Mathew slipped inside the room and braced a shoulder against the wall. The brothers noticed him and nodded but did not say anything, and for that he was grateful, as it gave him time to watch her.
Patience was graceful, each movement elegant as she lunged forward and back. The breeches, which he guessed had been her brother’s, were molded to her slender legs and the curve of her buttocks as she advanced and retreated. There was little doubting her skill and that she had been fencing for years, and he wondered who had taught her. Mathew had never seen a woman fence before, yet had to admit they were probably more fleet of foot and agile than some men. Patience was certainly a pleasure to watch.
“You’re breathing hard, Patience. Do you yield?” Charlie taunted her, which merely made her double her efforts to beat her brother. She feinted and lunged, then struck the winning blow, and Charlie moaned.
“That will teach you, Brother: never taunt your opponent.”
Mathew watched her rub a hand over her brother’s head, then bend over and brace her hands on her thighs as she attempted to regain her breath.
“Mathew!”
Charlie saw him first, Lucy followed, and slowly Patience straightened and looked his way.
“You have an excellent technique, Charlie. Perhaps I can take you on next?”
“Would you? I would like that, as Patience tires easily.”
Her eyes narrowed at that. “I beat you!”
Charlie waved his foil at her, as if her winning was of no consequence. “I need to learn to fight different people, Patience, just in case I have to fight him.”
Silence followed those words, and Charlie quickly looked at his sisters.
“Him?” Mathew inquired.
“Other people,” Lucy said quickly. “When he joins a fencing club.”
She was lying, and he wondered who Charlie had meant. Was it the same person who she feared had fired that shot two days ago?
“All right then, my lord. I shall take you apart while your elderly sister recovers.” Mathew took off his jacket and placed it over a chair, then began to roll up his cuffs. “But I warn you, I will not go easy on you.”
Patience had not moved. She still stood with her foil, watching him warily, so he moved to her side.
“Why are you here, Lord Belmont?”
“I said I would come, Patience.”
“Please leave,” she whispered, and he wanted to lean forward and kiss the frown from between her brows.
“No. Now lend me your foil, as I did not realize I would need mine, and left it at home.”
He took it from her hands when she did not do as he asked, and then placed a hand on her back, and nudged her toward her sister.
“Go and change, Patience, whilst I make sure Mathew doesn’t cheat,” Lucy said, touching her sister’s head. He was sure the siblings exchanged a look, but Patience didn’t argue. Instead she made her way to the door, stopped briefly to open it, then slipped from the room.
“As I have an excellent memory, Lucy, let me assure you that it was never I who cheated when we played cards.”
Lucy hooted with laughter. “You were so easy to beat,” she said, “because you were a gentleman even then, and had no idea I was cheating until Anthony pointed it out to you.”
Anthony. Just the mention of his name hurt. Mathew heard it so rarely that it was as if a rapier had pierced his heart when he did. Rubbing the spot briefly, he tried to ease the burning sensation.
“Yes, it was definitely a shock that such a sweet little girl as you could cheat without a shred of guilt. Who taught you to fence, Charlie?” Mathew asked, wanting to change the subject.
“Patience and Lucy.” Charlie was watching him closely.
“You move well. I thought you must have a fencing master.”
“Patience and Lucy teach me most things, but I have a tutor for my studies.”
“Do they? How lucky you are to have two such attentive sisters. What school do you attend?”
“Charlie has not started school yet,” Lucy said quickly. Noting the looks that were passing between brother and sister, Mathew knew to delve further would only upset them.
“Paul and Lenny taught me to box,” Charlie said. “I’m quite good, isn’t that right?” He looked at his two footmen for confirmation, and Mathew had the feeling that this boy had learned to box and fence to defend himself, unlike other boys his age who learned because it was fun as well as expected of them.
“You are, my lord,” one of them said. Paul, Mathew guessed, as he had been the one in the cowkeeper’s shop this morning.
“En garde, Lord Allender,” Mathew said when he was ready, and then set about teaching the young boy a few of the techniques that were missing from his fencing repertoire.
Lucy called encouragement, and Mathew was enjoying himself when Patience returned
to the room and put a halt to the match.
“I think that is enough for the day, Charlie.”
The boy looked defiant at his sister’s words. “I don’t wish to stop yet, Patience. Must you always spoil my fun?”
“I am not trying to spoil your fun, Brother, but you are due to start your lessons shortly, and if you wish to take tea beforehand, then you need to stop now.”
Mathew took the cloth one of the footmen handed him and wiped his sweaty face as he watched the interplay. Patience was calm, Charlie less so. The boy glared at his sister, and she simply gave him a steady look back.
“I hate learning French,” he snapped.
“You hated mathematics, also, but eventually your slow brain collected enough knowledge to be proficient at it.”
“My brain is not slow!” Charlie stated loudly. “I’m smarter than you.”
Patience then rattled off a sentence in French.
“You just insulted me, didn’t you?” Charlie sighed as Lucy and Mathew tried not to laugh, because Patience had done exactly that. No longer angry, the boy simply looked disgusted.
“Of course I did,” she said, coming forward to take his foil and hand it to a footman. “But as I love you, I asked Cook this morning to make queen cakes, so you need to hurry and clean up before I eat them all.”
“When I am in charge of this household, I shall be the one telling you what to do,” he muttered.
“I shall look forward to handing all responsibility to you, Brother. Then I shall laze about all day, throw my belongings on the floor, and slide down all your banisters.”
Mathew knew what it took to run a household, estates and everything else connected with his title, and he had a mother to look after some of it. From what he could ascertain, Patience had no one but Lucy and her young brother, and he understood the burden she carried.
“Will you take tea with us, Mathew?” Charlie asked him before leaving the room.
“Lord Belmont may have somewhere to be, Charlie,” Patience quickly said.
“I don’t, and would be glad to share your queen cakes, Lord Allender. Thank you also for the exercise. I hope to repeat the experience sometime soon.” He then bowed to Charlie, who returned the gesture before leaving the room with the two footmen on his heels.
“Excellent,” Lucy said, hopping nimbly from the chair. “I shall make haste to the parlor to have the first cup from the pot, as it’s always the best.” Mathew was left in no doubt why Lucy wanted to leave him and Patience alone together. Like he, she had seen the storm clouds brewing in the elder Allender sister’s eyes.
Patience was now wearing a plain lemon dress without adornments like ribbons, lace, or jewelry, and her hair was bundled up into a simple bun at the back of her head. She looked so delicious that he had to clench his fists to stop from reaching for her.
“Tell me first why you are angry with me, and then we shall move on to the threat that hangs over your family.” Mathew rolled down his sleeves and then retrieved his jacket.
“Pardon?” The shock on her face confirmed his words. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Remember that I saw you that morning, Patience, running down the middle of the street, seemingly oblivious to everyone around you. You were scared, as was your brother. If I had some doubts before, when Charlie said he needed to be ‘ready to fight him,’ he removed them. So who is the ‘him’ he is referring to?”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“I am not leaving, so it would be in your best interest to talk to me.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything, Lord Belmont. You have absolutely no control over me.”
He reached the door before her, and closed it, then stood with his back braced against it. “Please tell me.”
“You stopped me from exiting a room two mornings ago, and I disliked it then. I dislike it even more so now, my lord. Step aside,” she said, clenching her fists.
“What do you plan to do, punch me?”
She looked like a defiant child, face set and determined, hands fisted at her sides. Of course she wasn’t; she was a beautiful woman who was slowly making him feel alive when inside he’d been dead for so long.
“I will if you won’t move.” She was snarling now, which was better than the cool, aloof Patience he had seen since her return to London.
“I am your friend, Patience. Let me help you.”
“We—we cannot be friends.”
“Why?”
“Because you were rude and treated me like an annoyance, rather than a friend,” she snapped, her control having fled. “You ignored me, could barely speak or acknowledge me when I arrived in London seven years ago, and while I knew you were grieving for Anthony, and even forgave you for your behavior, I could not forgive what I heard one night at the Linden ball.”
“What happened at the Linden ball?” Mathew couldn’t remember, as he’d forgotten a lot of what had happened in the years following Anthony’s death, but he guessed this was what Lord Stadler had alluded to.
“It matters not.” She looked away from him. “I should not have spoken of it.”
“It matters to me, Patience, so please tell me.” He touched his fingers lightly to her jaw, turning her eyes back to his. “Please.” He watched the emotion play across her face and then she spoke.
“I overheard some of your friends discussing me, and the bet placed at Whites, about how I was the debutante most likely to not secure a match this season and Miss Lillyman the one most likely to.”
“I know of no such bet.”
“You were there, Mathew, and you laughed when they asked your opinion. Lord Howe even said that perhaps you would like to offer something in my defense, as you were a family friend of the Allenders.”
He couldn’t remember the incident, but could see he’d hurt her deeply by not defending her.
“You said that you had nothing to add, and that they were all very likely right, and I would be the last to wed as I was not overly beautiful and appeared to have no suitors, nor was I a success like the other debutantes.”
“And this is what you’ve held against me for the last seven years?” Mathew said.
“Yes…no.” She exhaled. “I know it was silly. I was silly back then, but I idolized you, Mathew, and you acted as if I were an annoyance. After I left, I never heard from you again.”
“Why did you leave?”
“Does it matter?” The anger had gone now, drained away as swiftly as it had come.
He touched her cheek. “It does to me.”
“I hated my debut, and every day seemed worse than the last. Everyone had friends except me, and suddenly men older than my grandfather wanted to dance and get close to me. I had been sheltered and loved, but still felt like a child until I arrived in London. Then I was expected to be an adult suddenly. It was frightening, and I had no one to explain those fears to, as my parents did not seem to understand. The only friend I did have was struggling with the changes to her life, just as I was.”
“And I was a friend from your childhood, one you should have been able to turn to—but I was not there for you.”
“Yes, and even though those feelings were irrational, and you were burdened by grief and a young man who did not want to be seen with an unpopular debutante, you hurt me.”
“I am sorry, Patience.”
“I know you were suffering too. I saw the pain inside you and even forgave you for your behavior, but that bet…” She took a deep breath. “That was what made me realize that I could stand it no longer. I begged Mother and Father to let me go home, and they finally relented, but it was only to be a brief break, then I would return. But I became ill.”
“I am sorry, Patience, more than mere words can say. I would like to make it up to you now. Will you let me be the friend you need?”
“No.”
Patience stepped back, away from his touch, and she missed the feel of his hand on her cheek so much that she knew she was doing the right thing.
She could not be distracted by this man again. She would not love him again and become blind to everything else.
“You have so many friends that there is no room for one more?”
He was smiling at her, a gentle smile that made his eyes soften, and Patience longed to hurl herself at him for just a few minutes and feel his strength. She had been the strong one for so long, with only her siblings to lean on. To have him at her side…
No! She cut that thought off before it could take hold.
“Friendship with me brings forth memories of your brother, Mathew, and those cause you pain. Also, I cannot forget what you did to me seven years ago. Surely you can see that these two things alone are enough for us to no longer be friends?”
She watched as he slid a hand to his chest and knew that she had made the right decision.
“Can you forgive me for what I did, Patience?”
He was truly a beautiful man, she thought. His hair was tousled, his cheeks colored from his recent exercise, and she felt it again: the ache in her heart.
“I forgive you, but it does not mean I will forget.”
“I cannot ask for more.”
“From now on I will be pleasant when we meet, Lord Belmont, but I can promise no more than that.”
“I respect the stand you have taken, but be warned that I will endeavor to persuade you from it.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you in my life.”
“But Anthony—”
“This is about us, not my brother.”
Patience felt her heart begin to thud as he leaned toward her. “That kiss in your gallery should not have happened, my lord. Now please follow me and I shall take you to tea.”
“Call me Mathew.”
“I don’t take well to orders, my lord.” Patience dug her toes into her slippers to stop herself from taking a step backward.
“Now, there’s a surprise.” He was so close that if she inhaled she would smell him.
“‘Grown to my lip, thou sacred kiss, on which my soul’s beloved swore…’”
“Wh-what are you doing? Why are you reciting Thomas Moore to me?” Patience felt panic clench her insides. Thomas Moore was her favorite poet; surely he did not remember that from the years when they had been friends. To hear him say those words in his deep, rich voice made her skin tingle. She did not want to tingle, or feel weak at the knees. She had no time for that.
Love Regency Style Page 301