by Monica Burns
Tension hung thick and heavy in the silence that filled the entryway. Damnation, he should have thought twice about his spur of the moment decision. The entire family had been gently encouraging Patience to go out in public more, but she still balked at most outings. He’d been far more persistent than the rest of the family in his efforts to make his sister face the world. The lot of them wouldn’t be happy with him for pushing the issue as he was doing at this moment. Even Julian had not been quite as unrelenting as he had at insisting Patience face her fears.
Patience’s decision to spend time in White Willow House whenever she and Julian were in London had been viewed by the family as a major step forward. Her willingness to work in the family-sponsored orphanage had made the Rockwood clan optimistic that she was finally beginning to overcome her fear of being seen in public. Now as he met her gaze, he realized he might have made a monumental mistake. Julian was going to have his head for upsetting his wife. Percy cleared his throat to swallow the knot of shame pressing against his Adam’s apple as he stared at his sister’s outraged expression.
“I was delayed as it was necessary for me to stop and collect Miss Bennett.” His quiet words made his sister’s gaze flit to Rhea standing beside him. “Rhea, this is my sister, Lady Patience. Patience, may I present Miss Rhea Bennett.”
“Miss Bennett,” Patience said in polite, stilted voice.
His sister nodded sharply in Rhea’s direction while turning her head so her scarred profile was covered by the shadows of the dimly lit hallway. Her anger had disappeared beneath the frozen, closed off expression she wore whenever she was in the company of strangers.
“Lady Patience,” Rhea nodded her head in greeting then scowled up at him. “It’s obvious my presence is unexpected. Clearly, your brother is in the habit of making decisions and appointments without consulting the affected parties. I apologize for any inconvenience my presence may cause.”
The censure in Rhea’s clipped statement made Percy start with surprise. He’d expected Patience to be furious with him, but Rhea’s voice held a far healthier note of scorn. He looked down to meet her look of contempt and winced. He should have known from the icy silence in the carriage ride to the orphanage that charming his way into Rhea’s good graces wouldn’t be easy. But something about Rhea’s demeanor suggested she was angry at having been party to upsetting his sister. He bit down on the inside of his cheek. Percy’s gaze shifted to Patience, and he saw a look of surprise on her unmarred profile.
“Recklessness is a family trait, but my brother inherited a larger portion than the rest of us.”
His sister’s sharp words of chastisement were bad enough, but it was the look she directed at him that stung. It was clear Patience believed his actions were a form of betrayal. Not since he was a boy of six when Sebastian had caught him dumping a bucket of water on Constance had Percy felt so remorseful. The last thing in the world he would ever think to do was cause injury to any of his family. But Patience had always held a special place in his heart. She’d always looked up to him, and it was the first time he could remember ever having disappointing her with his behavior. He cleared his throat and swallowed the shame that was a knot lodged in his throat.
“I should have sent word that I was bringing a guest, Patience. I ask your forgiveness.”
Percy’s quiet apology made his sister narrow her gaze at him. Despite the anger tightening her mouth into a frown of displeasure, Patience’s brown eyes softened slightly at his expression of remorse. She nodded sharply.
“Forgiven.” Patience’s gaze moved back to Rhea, and he saw his sister’s throat bob with what he knew was trepidation. “Since you were late, I ordered Mrs. Hughes to set our meal aside as the children have already eaten. It’s a simple meal, Miss Bennett. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I prefer simplicity,” Rhea said.
With a nod, Patience gestured for the two of them to follow her down the hallway. Rhea didn’t look up at Percy, and he released a small noise of disgust. He’d bungled things badly with both women. Especially Rhea. Patience would not remain put out with him for long as she was family and loved him. Rhea on the other hand didn’t take well to coercion, and yet he’d done just that. The original intent of his visit to Sherrington House had been to gain Rhea’s trust. He knew her help was critical when it came to finding Ruckley. But he had to convince her that he would see to it that the man wouldn’t harm her.
The worst of it was he’d forced Rhea’s hand not because of his desire to find Ruckley, but because of Dewhurst. He didn’t like the man. The colonel was a womanizer and a social climber. Even more troubling was that his dislike of the man couldn’t account for the fury he’d experienced the moment he’d walked into the viscountess’s salon. The sensation that had swept over him had been territorial in nature. It had dug into him with the ferocity of an eagle’s talons the minute he’d seen Dewhurst. Rhea’s warm greeting had only strengthened the possessive sensation. In that split second, he’d realized he didn’t want Dewhurst anywhere near Rhea.
Percy gritted his teeth as he looked down and met her scornful gaze. His desire to convince Rhea he could be trusted had been made all the harder simply because he’d allowed Dewhurst to get under his skin. A mocking laugh filled his head as he was forced to admit his reaction would have been the same no matter who the man was. In silence, Percy gestured for them to follow Patience, and his fingers cupped her bare elbow. Her skin was soft against his fingers, and he wondered if the rest of her was as warm and silky. The tactile sensation made him want to find out for certain.
The thought tightened his muscles with anticipation, and his heart slammed into his chest with the strength of a sledge hammer as desire surged through his blood. Quickly jerking his hand away from her. Christ Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like a school boy blinded by the smell of a woman. And she smelled delicious. Her scent was that of honey and lemons. Without thinking, he turned his head slightly to breathe in the soft fragrance of Rhea’s hair.
The sweet aroma had barely grazed his nostrils when the an dara sealladh overwhelmed his senses. He stumbled sideways and managed to brace himself against the wall. The strength of the vision dragged him downward into a whirlpool of darkness. When the light appeared it blinded him for a moment before he was able to see a small group of children surrounding Rhea. Several appeared to be the same age as his nephew, Charlie, who would be six in a few months.
The images shifted quickly to Rhea retching into a small basin. Another picture flashed in front of him. It was Rhea struggling with the same pock-marked man he’d seen before. The images blinked into oblivion as quickly as they’d come. As if coming up out of dark waters with no air left in his lungs, Percy dragged in a deep breath. Sweet Jesus. He would kill Ruckley for touching Rhea. He sucked in another harsh breath as the images from his vision played over again in his head. Slowly his breathing became less desperate as the an dara sealladh released its grip on him. Almost as if she’d sensed his distress, Patience glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes widened with alarm.
“Percy.” The moment his sister cried out his name, Rhea whirled around. Violet eyes reflecting her dismay, Rhea was at his side in two quick steps. Patience was only a short distance behind her.
“You’re ill,” Rhea exclaimed softly. “You look like death warmed over.”
“It’s a headache. I’m fine,” he said as his head began to pound. It wasn’t often that his visions caused him a headache, but when they did they were severe. Fortunately, they never lasted long.
“Liar,” she muttered as Patience reached them.
“Miss Bennett, if you would, please help me get him into the dining room. He gets these unexpected headaches from time to time.”
“Leave me be. Both of you,” he growled in frustration at their mothering behavior. “It’s just a headache.”
“A bad one from the looks of you,” Rhea snapped. “You need to sit down before you fall down. So stop arguing and le
t us help you.”
“I agree with Miss Bennett, Percy,” his sister’s voice echoed with exasperation. “We need to get you to a chair.”
“I can manage to find my way to the dining room on my own power,” he muttered as the sound of their voices intensified the pounding in his head. With a wave of his hand, he directed both women to move forward.
Despite the worried look on her face, Patience slowly nodded. His sister turned away and continued down the hall. Beside him, Rhea made a sound of annoyance. When she didn’t move, he glared down at her, but an obstinate expression darkened her lovely features.
“How do you propose we lift you up off the floor if you faint?” The glare she directed at him made his lips twist in a slight smile.
“I imagine you’ll have to leave me where I drop,” he grunted. One hand still braced against the corridor’s wall, he slowly began to make his way to the dining room.
“Stubborn man.”
He barely heard her retort, but it tugged another pained smile to his lips. Upon entering the dining room, the table with its two place settings was a reminder that his sister had been expecting only him for the meal. He grimaced as Patience disappeared into the kitchen. Despite the throbbing in his head, he pulled out a chair at the table and politely gestured for Rhea to take a seat. She released a sound of disgust and nodded at the chair.
“Oh, do sit down before you collapse, Percy.” Despite the harsh sounding words, there was a soft note of concern in her voice. Her full lips thinned with exasperation, she moved to the opposite side of the table. She sat down and scowled at him. The headache had drained him of energy, and he sank into the chair he’d pulled out for Rhea. The tension of her mouth eased slightly, and relief swept across her face. The fact that she’d been worried about him sent an unusually large amount of pleasure sailing through him. Violet eyes narrowed, Rhea studied him for a moment.
“Why did you bring me here if you were feeling unwell?”
“I was feeling perfectly fine. I have these headaches unexpectedly from time to time.”
“And you have no warning at all when you’re about to have one?”
“No.” It was the truth. He never had any idea when the an dara sealladh would rear its head, or whether it would leave a painful reminder of its presence.
“And you accuse me of brevity.”
The mockery in her voice made him grit his teeth. The consequence was another jolt of pain. A frown furrowed her forehead, but anything she was about to say was preempted by Patience.
“Mrs. Hughes will bring our meal in momentarily.” His sister set a plate and flatware in front of him and eyed him carefully. The curiosity in her brown eyes said she knew the an dara sealladh was the reason for his sudden headache. “You still look a bit pale, Percy.”
“I’m fine,” he bit out. “The pain is already beginning to dissipate.”
“As Miss Bennett has already pointed out—liar.”
Clearly annoyed with him, Patience’s sympathy for his discomfort vanished as she sat down at the head of the table. Seated between him and Rhea, his sister’s scarred profile was fully exposed to him, while Rhea only had glimpses of Patience’s burnt flesh. With a clarity that startled him, Percy realized Rhea had deliberately refused his chair to save his sister any emotional distress. He wasn’t sure if his conclusion was based on what the an dara sealladh had shown him or his growing understanding of the woman Rhea was. The only thing that mattered was her kindness. It warmed his heart that she would be so thoughtful where Patience was concerned.
“I hope you like mutton stew, Miss Bennett.”
“I do,” Rhea replied with a smile that vanished almost before it tilted her lips. It was like watching the sun suddenly blotted out behind a dark cloud. “I’ve not had it since… my mother died.”
Although he was certain she’d been about to say something else, the pain in her voice twisted his gut. It made him want to leap to his feet, charge around the table, and scoop her up into his arms. It was a primal urge, and for not the first time, he found it impossible to understand his reaction. A sympathetic expression on her face, Patience reached out to touch the back of Rhea’s hand.
“It’s obvious you miss her a great deal.” Patience’s voice was soothing as she shook her head with understanding.
“Yes, very much,” Rhea said softly.
“I think you are most fortunate. I don’t remember my mother.”
Whether it was their mutual loss of a mother or Rhea’s lack of curiosity about Patience’s scars, his sister seemed to warm to Rhea. They exchanged a few more pleasantries before their conversation was forestalled by Mrs. Hughes entering the dining room. The cook carried a steaming bowl of stew, while behind her was a boy Percy hadn’t seen in the orphanage before. Tall and lanky, he carried a basket of bread and a crock of butter. As Mrs. Hughes walked around the table, the boy came into Rhea’s line of sight. The instant Rhea saw him, she stiffened, but other than a flash of emotion in her violet gaze, there was no sign she recognized the boy.
“Don’t just stand there, Edgar, set the bread in front of Mr. Rockwood, and get back to the kitchen. You have potatoes to scrub for supper,” Mrs. Hughes scolded. The cook made a clucking noise with her tongue as she looked at the boy.
Edgar quickly obeyed the cook’s order and placed the basket of warm bread in front of Percy. A quick glance in the boy’s direction revealed the lad was staring at Rhea with cold calculation. Rhea reached for a piece of bread and began to butter it as if she were completely unaware of the boy. Percy met her gaze across the table, and she arched an eyebrow at him in a quizzical fashion. He frowned in puzzlement as she dropped her gaze to stare at the plate Mrs. Hughes had filled with hot stew. Edgar hadn’t moved since setting the bread on the table, and as Percy glanced at the boy, he saw Edgar still studying Rhea. Percy coughed softly.
“That will be all, Edgar.”
At the quiet dismissal, the boy jerked his head toward Percy. There was something insolent in the lad’s expression, and Percy narrowed his gaze as he met the boy’s defiant look. Immediately, the impertinent look on Edgar’s face changed to a sulky one. Eyes glittering with rebellion, the boy looked at Rhea one last time and left the room. Mrs. Hughes filled Percy’s plate with a healthy portion of stew then set the bowl on the table.
“Edgar is a new stray,” Percy murmured as he carefully watched Rhea, but she didn’t react to his statement.
“He came to us two weeks ago,” his sister said with a weary sigh. “I don’t think he’s taking well to the rules we have here in White Willow House. Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Hughes?”
“I’m afraid you’re right, Lady Patience. The lad is one for mischief. However, he is extremely good with the younger boys. He already has a number of them following him around like lost puppies.” At Mrs. Hughes’ words, Rhea coughed, and he could have sworn it was to cover a small cry. As if she’d read his thoughts, she lifted her head, but quickly averted her gaze.
“How did he come to the orphanage?” Percy asked as he looked at his sister.
“He simply showed up at the back door asking for something to eat,” Patience said with a small shrug. “Mrs. Hughes fed him, and we offered him a place to stay with the understanding he needed to work if he wished to remain.”
“Which is something I should see the boy is doing,” the cook muttered as she turned to leave the dining room. Prompted by an inexplicable sense of foreboding, Percy acted on his instincts.
“If you don’t mind, Mrs. Hughes, I’d like to speak with Edgar after lunch. I have need of a messenger from time to time. He might be of use to me. That is if you don’t mind me stealing the lad out from under your nose.” Percy smiled and winked at the older woman whose cheeks flushed with sudden color.
“Of course not, Mr. Rockwood. I’ll send Edgar in when you’ve finished your meal.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hughes, that’s most kind of you. I can see why Lady Melton and my sisters speak so highly of you.”
“I’m happy to help,” the cook said as her blush became even more visible, and she scurried from the room. Patience laid down her spoon to study him with astonishment.
“Since when do you have need of an errand boy?” his sister asked with a skeptical frown.
“I often have need of one when I’m working with Budge at the museum,” he lied unwilling to explain he simply needed to reassure himself the boy had no connection with Rhea or Ruckley
Ignoring his sister’s snort of disbelief, Percy nonchalantly took a bite of his stew. His headache was little more than a slight twinge now, and he was pleased he could eat his meal without his stomach threatening to rebel. Surreptitiously, he watched Rhea as she conversed politely with Patience. When she looked at him a second later, his muscles knotted and hardened with tension. Until now, he’d never seen such an exceptional performance of emotional control.
Even Sebastian would have been hard pressed to match the way Rhea had veiled her horror. Despite her outward appearance of calm serenity, the dark emotions shimmering in her eyes indicated she was in a state of panic. Her fear only strengthened his belief that Rhea was acquainted with Edgar. With a grimace, he realized he’d made the right decision to meet with the boy. Instinctively he knew Rhea had done everything she could to keep Ruckley from finding her.
Whatever he did, he needed to ensure the boy didn’t tell anyone he’d seen Rhea in the orphanage. Somehow, he thought convincing Edgar to remain silent would be easier said than done. Edgar’s attitude had been one of insolence for authority, which meant it would be difficult to ensure the boy didn’t betray Rhea’s whereabouts for the sake of a few coins. Percy had barely finished his second spoonful of the beef dish when Mrs. Hughes reentered the room.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Rockwood, but Edgar is gone.”
“Gone,” Patience exclaimed in surprise.
“Yes, my lady. Robbie told me the boy ran out to the mews and didn’t come back.”