“That is precisely why I need your help. As you all know, he was at the church the day of my wedding. I saw him there, no mistake. I also saw him at one of the inns Patience and I stopped at on our trip from Bedfordshire to London.” Alex ran his fingers through his hair. “There are only two ways he can be assured of getting my cooperation. One is to surprise me once again in my house.”
Cam leaned back and stared Alex in the eye. “Or grab the duchess.”
Three days later, Alex and Patience were to attend a soiree at Lord and Lady Andrews’s home. Alex had spent the good part of an hour trying to convince Patience that they should send their regrets. He continued to believe it was best to not frighten her by telling her about Loverly. He was certain it was only a matter of days before the man would be caught. With the War Department and the Bow Street Runners searching for him, the danger should end soon.
“I believe a night at home would be just the thing. You have been busy since our arrival and could use a night off.”
She stared at him in her mirror as Polly fixed her hair. “For goodness’ sake, this is the first event we’ll attend since we’ve arrived. We’ve been here less than a week, and since I was forced to spend those days being poked and prodded by the modiste and her staff, and judged and found wanting by your mother’s peers, I feel as though I could use a little bit of entertainment.”
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, you’re right. I am sorry.”
“Polly, you may leave now. His Grace can help me with my jewelry.”
The maid scurried from the room. Patience stood and walked to Alex. “What is the matter?”
He gave her what he hoped was a guileless smile. “Nothing. I fear I am a bit tired and had hoped to make a short night of it.”
She reached up and touched his cheek, making him feel guiltier for lying to her. But it was certainly in her best interests to keep her from worry and fear. It was a husband’s job to protect his wife. Not alert her to danger and make her sick with anxiety.
“We can certainly leave early. I was looking forward to this since it is not a huge event, and no one should question our attendance so soon after Cyrus’s death.”
Alex snorted. “I feel no need to pretend to mourn the man I loathed, and who treated you so shamefully.”
She gave him a soft smile that twisted his heart at how disgraceful his brother had dealt with the woman whom he should have held in high esteem and treated with nothing but respect. He had loathed the bastard, almost from the time he’d been in short pants.
Once Alex had reached a size where he was more powerful than Cyrus, his brother then had turned to other methods to torture him. False tales of Alex’s doings to their parents and cutting remarks in company had worked wonders for a young man trying to find his elusive place in life.
“I understand Lord and Lady Hampton recently returned from their wedding trip and will be there,” Patience continued. “I missed their wedding, and would so love to see Marie once again.” Her eyes sparkled with humor. “You see, I have gained some interesting tidbits by making all these dreadful afternoon calls.”
There was nothing to be had for it. He would speak with the driver and then make sure two burly footmen were with them. He had also checked the pistols stored under his seat in the carriage. There wasn’t much else he could do at this point except tie Patience up and secure her to the bed until Loverly was off the streets.
“An evening of enjoyment shall be ours, then, sweeting.” He held his arm out, and she took it.
Alex scanned the area as they stepped out the front door into the cool night air. The two footmen stood at the ready next to the carriage. Alex helped Patience in and then gave instructions to the driver.
Feeling as safe as he could under the circumstances, he entered the carriage and settled across from his wife.
…
As Patience had had a shortened Season, and Alex had spent almost all the years between university and gaining his title away from London, neither of them had extensive experience with ton affairs.
A flicker of excitement began in Patience’s stomach as the butler announced them and they descended the stairs. Their arrival turned more than a few heads in their direction. She was proud of how they looked together as a couple. Alex—tall, handsome, broad shouldered, and garbed in a ruffled shirt, with a black and silver waistcoat, starched cravat, and black satin knee breeches—took her breath away. Based on the looks cast in their direction, most of the women in the ballroom felt the same reaction.
He is mine.
Despite her scant involvement with Society, she was aware of how many bored matrons and anxious widows would love to lure Alex into their beds. Not only his dark looks held appeal, but his lofty title, along with the way he entered a room with his commanding presence, all spoke of power—a true aphrodisiac.
Alex seemed to be steering her in the direction of his three friends, Mr. Templeton, Lord Hawkins, and Lord Campbell. Their progress was slow, as they were continuously stopped by those offering their condolences and felicitations. Alex handled it all with aplomb, which made her even more proud of him. No one would ever guess he had not been raised to be the Duke of Bedford.
Unfortunately, that demeanor was also a magnet for every woman they passed. Too many, in fact, who felt no compunction at touching his arm or speaking so low he found it necessary to dip is head to hear them. By the look on his face, he was none too pleased with their comments.
She, on the other hand, squelched the desire to snatch the hair from their heads. She merely kept her chin raised while also warding off the men who paid her undue attention, as well. What a world they lived in!
“Your Grace, you are looking lovely, as ever.” Lord Hawkins gave her a gentlemanly bow as she and Alex finally made it across the room.
“Thank you.”
The other two men offered their greetings and spent so much time slapping her husband on the back, she marveled he was still standing erect. They chatted for a few minutes, Patience taking note of all the young ladies and their mamas who cast hungry glances in their direction. She currently stood with three of the most sought-after bachelors in the ton. Though, Mr. Templeton was desired by the young ladies, the mamas who wanted a title for their daughters were quick to dismiss his good looks and charm.
It didn’t take long for Hawk to let out a groan. “I hope you appreciate our attendance here tonight, Bedford, because we are about to be inundated by mamas dragging their lovely and not-so-lovely daughters in our direction.”
Mr. Templeton turned to her. “Will Miss Blake be attending this evening, Your Grace?”
This was not the first time Alex’s friend had asked after Suzanna. “I have not spoken with her since our arrival in London. I do hope she is here, because I would love to see her again.”
The other two men looked over her shoulder and grimaced. Lord Campbell bowed to her. “May I have the pleasure of this dance, Your Grace?”
“Ah, clever, Cam. You grabbed the prettiest and least available woman in the room.” Mr. Templeton grinned at Cam as he led Patience to the dance floor, passing several matrons—with their daughters—headed toward Alex’s group.
The couples gathered and took their places as the orchestra began the country reel. She curtsied to Lord Campbell, he bowed to her, and the dance began. The movements did not allow for a great deal of conversation, but merely clips of words spoken as they joined hands, moved around each other, and made their way down the row of dancers.
“Are you enjoying your time in London thus far, Your Grace?” Lord Campbell took her hand as they switched places.
“Yes.” She grinned. “Well, actually, that would be the expected thing to say, but truthfully, it has been taxing.”
“Indeed?” He joined their hands as they moved in a circle. “What has been taxing you?”
By the grin on his face, she was sure he could not imagine anything about a duchess’s life that wasn’t all sweetness and light. “I have spent many a morning
acting as a pin cushion and draped in fabric until I daresay I would prefer to keep my existing wardrobe rather than subject myself to another modiste appointment.”
“Ah, strange words coming from a woman.” He twirled her around. “However, I can sympathize, as I do not relish visits to my tailor, either.”
The man was charming, and while they danced she caught more than one young lady glaring at her. There was indeed no point since she was married. Furthermore, she doubted Lord Campbell was on the search for a bride.
Then she remembered Lord Hawkins remark to Alex about being grateful for their attendance this evening. “Why would Lord Hawkins, and all of you it seems, be at this event at His Grace’s behest?”
Lord Campbell hesitated for a moment, which gave her pause as well. It almost appeared as if the man was trying to think of something to say that was a distant cousin to the truth. She raised her brows as she waited for his response.
Once more they joined hands and moved in a circle. “Your husband has not spent much time being scrutinized by the ton. He asked that we present ourselves tonight to help ease him into the torture.” His grin was a bit forced, but without calling the man a liar, she had to acquiesce to his answer.
She tipped her head in acknowledgment of his words. Shortly after, the dance ended and he returned her to Alex’s side.
Chapter Eighteen
Hours later, Patience turned to seek out the ladies’ retiring room and walked straight into Lord Hawkins. He jumped back. “I am so sorry, Your Grace.”
She waved away his apology and sighed. She was growing wearier and more annoyed by the minute. From the moment she and Alex had arrived, she’d been followed by him or one of his three friends everywhere she went. They had all four danced with her—twice—and driven away other potential partners with a glower, which they thought she hadn’t noticed.
She had.
What she found confusing was the reason for it. Did Alex not trust her? As a newly married matron, she was certainly not high on the list of young gentlemen to pursue. Although, truth be known, aside from the Four Guardians—as she had begun to call them in her head—she’d never had so much attention at an affair. It seemed all the gentlemen who had passed her by previously, the few times she had been at Polite Society balls and such, now found her more interesting as a married woman. She hated what that inferred.
“May I escort you somewhere?” Lord Hawkins offered her his arm.
“Thank you, my lord, but that is not necessary.” She moved to go around him, but he stepped to his right. “Ah, but I insist. ’Tis such a large crowd tonight. I would hate to see you lost in the throng.”
Rather than cause a scene, she took his arm and offered more of a grimace than a smile. Apparently choosing to ignore it, Lord Hawkins maneuvered them through the crowd. Once they were in the corridor, he said, “I assume you are headed to the ladies’ retiring room?”
Good heavens, certainly he wasn’t planning on escorting her right to the door. “Yes, thank you for your escort, my lord. I will be fine from here.” She turned, hurried down the corridor, and escaped into the room set aside for the ladies.
Once inside, she gave a sigh of relief and quickly took care of her business. She spent about ten more minutes refreshing herself with a cool lavender cloth provided by the maid in attendance, and resting her feet with a lie-down on a chaise longue. Feeling much better after her respite, she left the room to find Lord Campbell leaning against the wall across from the portal, his arms crossed over his chest.
This was becoming ridiculous. “Surely you are not waiting for me?”
He pushed himself away from the door and walked toward her as if guarding a prized possession. “Of course, Your Grace. Bedford was stopped on his way here by Lord Tillerson to discuss some matter of Parliament. Not that I think Bedford has any interest in the matter right now. He needs to get his feet under him first.” He extended his arm, but she resisted.
“My lord, I do not need you, Lord Hawkins, or my husband to escort me around this home as if I were a child wandering about, ready to stumble down a dark staircase.”
He backed up, his eyes wide. “Your Grace, I assure you, no one would believe you are a child.” If he meant his words to be a compliment, they fell short.
She raised her chin and swept past him, ignoring his outstretched arm. “If you will excuse me, I would like a word with my husband.”
Actually, she would like several words with the man. And none of them would be pleasant. She tamped down her urge to stomp her foot as she heard Lord Campbell follow her along the corridor and down the stairs to the ballroom. Her anger grew as she watched Alex break away from Lord Tillerson and make his way toward her.
“Your Grace, I would like a word with you.” He glanced behind her, at, she assumed, Lord Campbell following her like a puppy. Alex broke into a smile and took her hand. “Of course, my dear. Would you like a stroll in the garden?”
“Yes.” What she would like was a heavy reticule with which to bop him over the head. He led her through the crush, making their way slowly as more people stopped them to offer condolences and to wish them happy. Impatient to have her say, and tired of pretending sorrow when Cyrus was mentioned, she was relieved when they left the last well-wisher, and Alex escorted her through the french doors to the small patio area leading to the garden.
…
Alex did not have to guess what was on his wife’s mind. As much as he hated boxing her in, he had no choice. A large gathering such as this was the perfect place for someone to grab her. He had no reason to believe Loverly himself would show up with all of London looking for him, but as the man had been able to get into his house, he could do the same here. Or anywhere Patience would go. Hence, the need for constant vigilance.
He would make a visit to the War Department again tomorrow and demand to know why it was taking so long to capture the man. For now, however, he had to rely on himself, Hawk, Cam, and Templeton to keep watch over her. She was much too vulnerable.
He and the others had wrestled with the idea of telling Patience, but it was unanimously decided there was no benefit in doing that.
The tension radiated off her where their hands joined. They continued down the steps, Alex making sure there was no sign of Loverly. To be safe, he only walked a few steps from the patio and remained in a well-lit area.
As he’d noted earlier, Patience looked lovely tonight, and he was not oblivious to the glances and not-so-covert invitations from some of the men. He was almost grateful for the need to keep an eye on her for safety purposes. She was an innocent, and not having had much contact with the gentlemen of the ton, she probably wasn’t aware of how much danger of another kind she could get herself into.
The scant moonlight cast a soft glow on her face, highlighting the enticing curve of her cheek and neck, and the brilliance of her green eyes. Eyes that right now were snapping with anger. He sighed, knowing what was coming.
He would stand by his earlier decision to keep her in the dark. No good could come from telling her.
The memory washed over him of when he and the other officers had planned a night attack. Alex had foolishly brought a young soldier into his confidence about what was to happen. Unfortunately, the young man had taken it upon himself to forge ahead without waiting for his orders and had ended up with his throat slit. Had Alex kept the information to himself, the lad would have gone home to his parents when the war ended.
Just one more dark mark on his soul.
She shook her hand free and placed them both on her hips. “Your Grace, I would like to know why I have been followed around all evening like a just-out-of-the-schoolroom-chaperone-dodging debutante.”
He could not help the laugh that burst forth. “‘Just-out-of-the-schoolroom-chaperone-dodging debutante?’”
Patience, unfortunately, did not share his amusement. She continued to stare at him, her tiny satin-shod foot tapping away on the stone walkway. “Well?”
Alex ra
n his fingers through his hair. “It might seem like you are being followed, but that is certainly not my intention.”
“Do you think me muddleheaded, Your Grace?”
“Stop with the ‘Your Grace’ business, Patience. Otherwise, we’ll be your gracing each other the rest of the evening.” The devil take it, but she roused his lust. All self-righteous anger, her breasts rising and falling with her deep breaths, the creamy tops just begging for his attention.
Instead of standing in the garden parrying with words, he wanted to throw her over his shoulder like some sort of conquering hero and toss her onto the nearest bed. If he could only harness the passion in her anger and channel it to their lovemaking, he would not let her out of bed until Loverly was caught.
“Perhaps I have been a bit overbearing this evening. I assure you, it was only because of your lack of knowledge in moving about in Society. I did not want you to get yourself into any sort of awkward situation.”
Her jaw dropped at the same time her hands did. “You do think me a ninnyhammer! Either you suppose I cannot comport myself in a proper fashion, or you believe I am senseless enough to believe the nonsense coming from your mouth.”
“Enough, Patience. This entire conversation is unnecessary. Furthermore, it is time to return home.” He hated how imperious he sounded, but there was no way to explain the situation to her, and the more he tried, the more difficult it became.
Patience drew in a deep breath. “You are not my father to order me about, but I fear you grow more like him every day.” With those words, she swept past him and hurried up the stairs. The shock of what she said took him aback, and she had already returned to the ballroom and disappeared into the crowd when he shook his head and went after her.
…
Patience pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring those who called her, fighting to keep the tears welling in her eyes from falling. She was a duchess. She must behave like one, not crumble to the floor in a heap of wailing womanhood.
She was slowly coming to the conclusion that she’d been right. Once she’d allowed Alex his husbandly rights, he’d begun to treat her in a tyrannical manner. The little bit of power she’d held had vanished. He thought her a fool, didn’t trust her, and was trying to control her.
Denying the Duke (Lords & Ladies in Love) Page 17