Until then, nothing could change what had already happened. All she could hope for was that Alex came for her with a plan other than handing over money. Her stomach tightened when she thought of the possibility of being murdered in front of her husband.
“All right, Your Grace. It’s time to go.” Loverly stood and swayed, placing his hand on the back of her chair to steady himself. She turned her head from him as he leaned over her and breathed into her face. “Don’t think to give me any trouble. I have my very large knife and a surprise for His Grace.”
She stomped on his foot when he wrenched her from the chair.
“Ouch. You little bitch.” He backhanded her across the face. She stumbled, but his grip on her arm was tight enough that she didn’t fall. Tears streamed from her eyes, and her cheek felt as though it were on fire. “Move.” He pushed her in front of him.
They walked down a narrow, rickety flight of wooden stairs. With her arms tied behind her, she had to go slow since her balance was off. It appeared the building where he’d housed her had been abandoned. Loverly stumbled behind her, and all she could imagine was him losing his footing and crashing into her, sending them both tumbling down the stairs to end with broken necks.
Once they were in the night air, she attempted to look for any means of escape. Thick fog blanketed everything in gloom. Loverly continued to push her forward, farther into the mist. She stumbled a couple of times on the uneven stones. “Stop here.”
After a few minutes, Alex appeared out of the mist, walking slowly, carrying a satchel. “Let her go, Loverly.”
Instead of releasing her, the man whipped out his knife and, holding her against the front of his body, held the weapon to her throat. “Not bloody likely, Your Grace.”
In the scant light cast from the window of what must have been a tavern, she saw Alex’s jaw tighten. “As much as I would enjoy spending time with you, Loverly, my wife looks in need of assistance. I would like to get her home.”
Loverly pulled her closer, practically cutting off her air supply. “I am sure you would. However, there is the little problem of the money.”
Alex held up the satchel. “It’s all here.”
…
If he lived a hundred years, Alex would never recover from the sight of Patience, with her bruised face.
Loverly was a dead man.
“Drop the bag and walk away.”
“You must think I am a half-wit to consider leaving the money and walking away from my wife. You let her go and I’ll toss the bag to you.”
“Now who is acting the fool?” He shook his head. “No. So sorry, Your Grace, but I get the money first.”
Alex had to bide his time. Cam, Hawk, and Templeton had arrived an hour before him so they could get into positon before Loverly appeared. They were out there somewhere in the mist. The plan had been for one of them to attack Loverly from behind while another one grabbed Patience. They were all carrying pistols, including Alex.
What troubled him was the knife. He had to let his cohorts know about the weapon at Patience’s throat. One slip and his wife would be dead. “Loverly, at least take the knife away from Her Grace’s throat while we work this out.”
Loverly shook his head, causing Alex to catch his breath as the knife moved and Patience whimpered. “Not a chance. I hang onto your wife until I have the money in my hand.”
“I don’t care about the money. I give you my word that I will slide the satchel to you once you release her.”
“Ah yes. The word of a gentleman. Or is it the word of Major Alexander Pemberton of His Majesty’s service? Wasn’t that your title when you dragged me back from America and held me prisoner in that ship’s cabin for weeks? Well, this time when I disappear, I won’t be so easy to find.”
“You were hardly easy, Loverly. It took me a year to find you.” Anything to keep the man talking. Somewhere out there, Cam, Hawk, and Templeton were listening and getting ready to take Loverly down.
“Well, no point in sending anyone this time. They’ll never find me. But I’m tired of all this chatter.” He nodded to the satchel on the ground. “Give me the money. Now.”
Alex reached for the bag just as Loverly grunted. The knife clattered to the ground, and he fell alongside it.
“Patience!” Alex shouted as she stood there for a moment, stupefied, then raced toward him, flinging herself into his arms. She sobbed against his chest, babbling something about sorry, will never do it again. He crushed her to him and inhaled her scent, closing his eyes at having her in his arms.
Cam appeared from the mist and kicked the knife away from Loverly, who was already coming around. He lunged for the knife, but Cam stepped on his hand and scooped the weapon up.
Hawk reached under Loverly’s arms and set him on his knees. The man shook his head, then looked at Alex who had one arm wrapped around Patience and held his pistol in the other hand. Templeton approached Alex. “Let me take her away.”
Alex nodded and released his hold on Patience. They walked to where Hawk and Cam stood. Hawk cut her hands free and all eyes remained on the man on his knees. “Don’t kill me. Let me go. I will disappear, leave England. You don’t have to give me the money.”
“You know you are wanted by the Crown.” Alex snorted. “Why would I let you go?”
“No one has to know. I can steal into one of these ships and be gone with the tide.”
Alex viewed him with disdain. “Stop blubbering like a girl. You were man enough to steal our secrets and sell them to the French. Men died because of you. Good men who were fighting for their country. Where is your backbone now?”
“I didn’t mean for anyone to die. I needed the money.” Loverly’s nose was running, and he continued to weep.
“You’re despicable.”
“Just don’t kill me.” Loverly shifted and his right hand disappeared into his overcoat pocket.
Instinctively, Alex pulled the trigger and blew a very large hole in Loverly’s forehead. The man slumped over as Alex lowered his hand. His stomach roiled at the sight of the crumpled body, with the pool of blood spreading from underneath him. He closed his eyes briefly, wanting to wash the sight from his eyes. He’d never wanted to take a man’s life again.
Patience covered her mouth with her hands and screamed. Her eyes grew large as she looked back and forth from the dead man on the ground to Alex.
Alex walked toward her. She backed up as he approached, shaking her head. He reached for her, and she turned from him and doubled over. “No. Don’t touch me. I can’t believe you killed him.”
Stunned, he said, “What? He was a traitor. He kidnapped you. Are you crazy?” With all the emotions racing through him right now, the last thing he needed was condemnation from his wife.
She shook her head. “No, you are crazy. He begged for his life. You could have brought him to the authorities.” She moved farther back. “You are a bully. And a monster. Once again you treated me like a child. You could have told me I was in danger. Do you think me so weak and stupid? Do you think I would have spoken to this man if I’d known? You don’t trust me, and you never will.”
She shook her head and backed up, her voice shaky. “I hate you. You’re everything I never wanted in a husband.”
Alex reached for her once more. She held her hand up. “No. I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”
“Patience, please. You’re overwrought.” His hands hanging by his side, he continued to approach her, talking softly. When he reached for her again, she swung at him, and missed, almost throwing herself to the ground. Hawk grabbed her to keep her from falling. Alex stared over her head at Hawk. “Take her home. Nothing is gained by having her here. I have things to clean up.”
Hawk nodded, tight-lipped. He put his arm around Patience. Sobbing onto his shoulder, she walked away with him, disappearing into the mist.
Chapter Twenty
Patience stumbled her way from the ugliness of the docks to the carriage and climbed in. She wrappe
d her arms around herself and rocked.
Once the vehicle began to roll away, Lord Hawkins cleared his throat. “Your Grace. There is something you need to understand.”
Patience held up her hand. “Stop. If you are planning on offering an excuse for what my husband just did, please don’t. I am still angry that he thought me so stupid that I could not know there was an evil man who intended to kidnap me. Don’t you think as a full-grown adult I had the right to know?”
Hawk blew out a breath and leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. Twice he looked over at her as if he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. Patience continued to wipe the tears from her eyes.
He turned his head to the side to view her in the darkness. “Give Bedford a chance to speak with you, to explain. What you witnessed tonight was not for a lady’s eyes. It is unfortunate that you were there. But there are many things you do not understand.”
Patience waved her hand at him. “Yes. I see. I am only a woman. I cannot understand anything unless a man explains it to me.” Her tears turned into anger as she leaned forward. “When will men begin to understand we are not all balls of fluff who faint at the first sign of unpleasantness?
“Women bear children, nurse sick family members, and stay home to pace the floors waiting for husbands who go off to war. We are not weak, sniveling ninnyhammers.”
She took in a deep breath, almost—but not quite—embarrassed at having subjected Hawk to her tirade. “Please, my lord. I beg you not to continue. I do not wish to hear anymore nonsense, and furthermore, I have the beginnings of a megrim and just want to get home as quickly as possible.”
“As you wish.” He dipped his head and stared out the window.
Patience began to feel the soreness in her face where Loverly had struck her. She huddled in the corner of the carriage, her head resting on the padded leather. Luckily, a sense of numbness washed over her, blocking out everything that had happened. She could not think, did not want to think.
She was moaning softly with the pain as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the townhouse. A footman descended the steps and opened the door for her. She took his hand and stepped out. “Please see that Lord Hawkins is returned to wherever he wishes to go.”
Without saying anything more, she hurried up the stairs. “Please have Polly attend me,” she said to the man at the door—someone she didn’t recognize—as she entered the house.
She had to get away. That was the only thought running through her mind as she climbed the stairs. She could not face Alex tonight. Or probably ever. The man who shot Loverly in cold blood while he begged for his life was not the man she’d fallen in love with.
Love. She snorted.
War had changed him into someone she could not live with. Besides his actions tonight, she had no intention of living with a man who did not respect her. After what she’d witnessed in her parents’ marriage, she wanted a husband who treated her as a marriage partner, not some missish little chit who needed to be taken care of.
She was not stupid enough to think she didn’t need protection from someone like Lord Loverly, but had she known about him, she certainly would not have fallen into his hands so easily. Alex had treated her like a fool, and she was done with it.
Polly arrived and sucked in a deep breath at Patience’s appearance. “Your Grace! I am so happy to see you returned.” She walked closer and examined her face, touching her gently with her fingertips. “I will get something for your bruise and order a hot bath.”
“No.” Patience turned from her and headed to her wardrobe. “I am leaving tonight. I want you to pack enough for a day or two. I will send for the rest of my things later.”
“Leaving? Now? It is the middle of the night.”
“I don’t care. Please have a footman send word to my cousin Miss Suzanna Blake. She is residing with her cousins, Lord and Lady Montfort. They are in Mayfair. I believe she left the direction with John Coachman when he returned her to London after the wedding. Tell her I will be arriving within the hour.”
Polly stood staring, her mouth agape.
“Polly, please hurry. I want to leave as quickly as possible.” She snapped her fingers. “Also tell John to ready the carriage for our trip to Mayfair.” She had no idea how long it would take Alex to “clean things up” and did not want to be here when he returned. Her feelings so raw, she didn’t want to talk to him.
The maid left and Patience began pulling things from her wardrobe and dresser drawers. After her shaky fingers dropped several things on the floor, she stopped and took in a deep breath. She had to calm down, she was much too anxious to concentrate on anything. Before she could change her mind, she crossed the room and entered Alex’s bedchamber, heading right to the sideboard where he kept a bottle of brandy.
After pouring herself more than she probably should have, she swallowed it in two gulps and then stood coughing and wiping tears from her eyes. The burning in her chest hurt almost as much as the bruise on her face.
Once she stopped coughing, she returned to her room to find Polly packing items into a satchel. She glanced down at her gown and realized her attire would certainly scare poor Suzanna to death. She had no time for a bath, so she took a quick wash at the bowl on the dresser.
She pulled out an old gown, interrupting Polly to unfasten and then fasten her gowns. Not wishing to take the maid away from her packing, Patience brushed her hair back and fastened it at her nape with a ribbon. Examining herself in the mirror, she decided she would wear one of her hats with a veil to cover her bruised face.
The brandy had begun to do its work, and suddenly, Patience was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. She paced the room, trying to distract herself, stopping at the window several times to make sure Alex was not yet returned.
“I believe we are ready.” Polly fastened the strap on the satchel. “Shall I have the footman carry the bag down?”
“Yes. Please.”
She placed the hat on her head, lowered the veil, and threw a wrap around her shoulders. Without looking back, she left the room, fully intent to never see it again. Once they had settled things, he could set her up at one of his many estates. She hated London, anyway.
The ride to Suzanna’s house did not take much time. As they pulled up, she was pleased to see candles burning through the window on the lower floor. Patience exited the carriage with her head held high. As her foot touched the first step, the door opened.
Montfort’s butler bowed as she entered. “Miss Blake is awaiting you in the drawing room, Your Grace.”
“Thank you. Please direct my lady’s maid, Polly, as to where she can bring my things. She is right behind me.”
He nodded and walked Patience down the corridor, where he stopped in front of a door and knocked. He opened and said, “Her Grace, The Duchess of Bedford has arrived.” He pushed the door open and Patience stepped through.
“Oh my goodness, Patience. Whatever happened to you?” Suzanna stared at her, her eyes wide.
…
The sun was slowly making its way over the horizon when Alex rode into the mews and slid from his horse. He handed Night Storm over to the stable hand and trudged to the house. He was weary to his very bones.
It had taken hours to arrange for Loverly’s body to be removed and sent to the authorities. Then all the necessary reports took up even more time. Besides his exhaustion, he was worried about Patience. She had been in a terrible state when he’d last seen her, but hopefully, by now with some sleep and treatment for her bruises, she might be more herself.
He still hadn’t dealt with the anger the entire episode had caused. It was bad enough Patience had been kidnapped, hurt, and then held with a knife to her throat. But watching him shoot and kill Loverly was probably worse. Such events were never to be witnessed by a lady.
When he’d stood with the gun aimed at the man, he had not decided if he would kill him or turn him over to the War Department and let them do the d
eed, if that was what they wished. But once Loverly had reached into his pocket, there’d been no choice.
After Hawk had left with a sobbing Patience, Alex had confirmed that Loverly had a pistol in his pocket, which would have been the end of his life if he hadn’t acted. Nevertheless, seeing a man killed before your eyes was appalling. The first time it had happened to him, he’d tossed up his accounts and had taken a great deal of ribbing from the other officers.
Soon he’d become numb to it, which almost bothered him more than his initial reaction. No one should be forced to deaden his senses to death. Yet, in the military, it was necessary for survival.
Everything was quiet when he entered the house. He rubbed his hands over his face and decided to have a brandy before facing Patience. It had been a long night—and he needed food and rest—but first a drink, then his wife, and then food and sleep.
He swirled the brown liquid in the glass and stared out at the peaceful morning. He’d decided somewhere between leaving the War Department and arriving home that he would return to the Abbey as soon as Patience was up to traveling. Parliament would be in session for months yet, but he would eschew his duty to the Crown in that regard for the rest of this Season.
His duty to the Crown for this year was done.
Now that Loverly was dead, and he no longer had to worry about Patience’s safety, he wanted desperately to leave London. Once things were in order at the Abbey, he would take his wife on an extended trip to each of his holdings. They needed time together without the threat of danger.
He swallowed the last of the brandy and headed upstairs. The only sound in the corridor was his footsteps and the maids already starting their day. He nodded at a young girl as they passed each other.
Denying the Duke (Lords & Ladies in Love) Page 19