“I awoke to the screams of my mother and sisters. By the time I raced to the nursery, it was engulfed in flames. My mother was already dead. The girls were crying and screaming for help. The heat was unbearable. Somehow two footmen and I were able to reach them. I did not even know in that moment which sister I plucked off the bed. Suddenly, I was outside the room, gasping and choking from the smoke. Audra and the two footmen perished in that inferno.”
Miss Winlow did not immediately respond. Swiping at a few errant tears on her cheeks, she finally said, “I doubt you want my sympathy for your family tragedy, but you have it just the same.”
“Thank you.” He slipped his fingers into an inner pocket of his coat and retrieved a handkerchief. “My intention was not to make you cry. I just wanted you to understand the obstacle you will be facing if you accept the position I am offering you.”
Murmuring her thanks, she blotted the wetness from her face. “Lady Meredith is scarred?”
“Yes. Some scars are visible on her face and neck. Several more on her arms. After the fire, she was so ill from her burns that I feared I would lose her, too. It took years for her to recover. It is only in recent years that I have come to understand that I should have given the scars I could not see more attention.”
There was no point regretting what he could not change. He was paying attention now, and by God, he was willing to do anything to coax Meredith back to the polite society into which she had been born. His gaze shifted to Miss Winlow. He blinked at the fierce determination shining in her blue eyes.
Ram had chosen well. Revealing his family’s past had not been pleasant, but his honesty had secured the lady he desired to befriend his lonely sister. He did not bother concealing his smirk. “So what say you, Miss Winlow? Will you accept the position of companion to my sister?” The question was merely a formality. He knew her answer.
She nodded, giving him a beatific smile. The impact of it was not lost on Ramscar. He reminded himself that he had a mistress awaiting his return to London. Nothing good would come of dallying with his sister’s new companion.
“Yes. I believe I will accept you offer, my lord.”
“Leaving!” Perry shouted after her, following her into the room she had shared with Deidra. He had been playing cards with several grooms in the inn yard when Patience had calmly announced that she was leaving the troupe. After he had gotten over his surprise, he had slammed down his cards and chased after her.
Patience ignored Perry as she crouched down and dragged a satchel from under the bed. She wondered if she would get the opportunity to say farewell to Deidra. The young woman would likely be pleased when she learned of the news. At some point during the night, Deidra had disappeared after everyone had retired to their beds. When the summons to visit Swancott had arrived, Deidra was still missing. Most likely, she had a clandestine meeting with the vicar’s son or, worse, the local magistrate.
From this moment on, Deidra was Perry and Link’s problem.
Link appeared in the doorway. He was blurry-eyed, and his wrinkled shirt suggested that he had just crawled out of bed. “I could hear Perry yelling. What’s this about you leaving?”
Perry stopped and glared at his friend. “Can you believe it? Our girl is running off on us!”
“Hardly running off, Perry,” Patience said dryly. She began gathering up her meager belongings and stuffing them into a satchel. “I have decided to take the position the Earl of Ramscar offered me late this morning. His only stipulation was that I start immediately.”
Perry made a rude noise. “Hired you for what position? Flat on your back with your legs spread? Me girl, I saw the manner in which he stared at ye. The man was wanting a mistress, not a new maid to polish his fine silver.”
Patience reached for her spare corset and hastily stuffed it into the satchel before the men noticed the intimate garment. “This is strictly business, gentlemen. I have been hired as a lady’s companion for his sister, Lady Meredith.”
“Have you met this Lady Meredith?”
Patience frowned at Link. “Well, no. Lord Ramscar told me that she was indisposed in the mornings. I am to meet her later this afternoon.” She whirled away from Link and returned to the unmade bed.
“My shoes!” Where were her shoes? She bent down and peeked under the bed. Popping up, she discovered Perry’s angry face inches away. She straightened and tucked her shoes into the bag.
“Why would His Lordship hire a poor actress when his gold could purchase him an impoverished blue-blooded miss for his beloved sister?” Perry asked. The sneer on his face seemed to be a permanent affliction.
“He has his reasons,” she replied vaguely. Lord Ramscar had trusted her with his family secrets, and she had too much honor to betray him, even to ease her friends’ concerns.
Link scratched his head, fluffing his unruly red hair. “You didn’t tell him about your family, did you?”
Her hands stilled at his question. Tell Lord Ramscar about the Farnalys? Ha! Never! Patience resumed rolling up her stockings. “No. There is no point to it, since the Farnalys would deny the connection.”
“Give way,” Deidra ordered from outside the room. She gave Link a push and entered the room. “What have I missed?” She looked from one to the next, grasping that she had interrupted a heated argument. “Oh, Perry … now what have you done?”
“It isn’t me,” the young man whined. He pointed at Patience. “Blame her. She’s running off. Tells us the fancy earl she was cozying up to last eve has hired her to play lady’s companion to a sister she hasn’t even met!”
Deidra gave Perry a peeved look before she moved to stand beside Patience. Wherever the young woman had been last night, she had managed to bathe. Patience inhaled the scent of roses as Deidra picked up one of the dresses laid out on the bed and began folding it.
The young woman lifted an inquiring brow. “Is it true? You are leaving the troupe?”
Patience smothered her guilt with a soft, unladylike curse. “Yes.” She rolled up a petticoat and stuffed the undergarment into the bag with more enthusiasm than warranted. “Why not? All of you should be thrilled by my departure. Last evening, you all made it abundantly clear that you do not need or desire me meddling in your affairs. Fine. So be it.”
“Nothing has changed, Patience,” Link argued, for once seeming sober. “We’ve always argued about how things should be done.” He braced his long arm across the doorway as if blocking her way. “You get huffy. I bellow … . Perry whines—”
Perry naturally took exception to Link’s assessment. “I don’t whine!”
Link did not bother arguing with him. He nodded at Deidra. “She sulks.”
“Creative individuals are slaves to their sensitive natures, you know,” Deidra said, pouting slightly.
Everyone wisely refrained from comment.
Link became more animated as he summarized all the reasons Patience should remain with the troupe. He continued, “And the next day, we start anew. It all works out.”
Patience glanced about the room, checking to see if she had forgotten anything. She did not own much. Anything of value had been sold off years ago. She picked up the satchel. “This day was coming, Link. I tried to keep us together after Phoenix left, since none of you wanted to take over the task. I did my best. Still, we all know I was a poor replacement. All I did was delay the inevitable.”
She faced Deidra. “I will be residing at Swancott. Lord Ramscar’s lands are to the east. We will be traveling to London for the season.” Patience had yet to mull over her decision to accept the position with the Knowdens. For years, she had avoided London for fear she might encounter her family. It had been four years. Would her family even recognize the young lady she had become?
Her companion’s eyes shimmered with tears. “We can stay at the inn a few more days. You might change your mind.” Impulsively she hugged Patience, her movements awkward. It was the first show of affection Deidra had ever demonstrated.
“Perhaps.” Patience did not want to make promises she had no intention of keeping.
Clutching her satchel, she walked over to Perry. “Farewell, Perry. When you think on this later, you will see the benefits to my leaving.”
Perry stared at her mutinously. He was not happy with her leaving. In a very motherlike gesture, Patience lovingly pushed back a fallen blond lock of hair that obscured his vision and tucked it behind his ear.
“How so?” he asked.
She grinned at him. “Well, the profits will be split three ways instead of four.”
“There is that,” he said glumly, hugging her so strongly that she gasped. “I still say the man’s a rogue. I heard one of the fancies saying he was one of them les sauvages nobles.”
Patience wrinkled her nose at the French phrase. “The noble savages? What is it? Some sort of gentlemen’s club?”
“Probably a vile one that lures young virgins to their doom,” Link said gruffly, drawing her into his embrace.
“Well, then I have no worries,” Patience teased, trying to lift the somberness of her departure.
Link smiled faintly at her misplaced sense of humor. “We will dally here for a few days. If this position is nothing but a ruse to procure a new mistress or something worse, then I want you to return to the inn. There is no shame in abandoning a scoundrel who has no honor.”
Like I should have with Julian Phoenix.
She sighed softly. Patience had been too young to understand the sort of games a man like Phoenix liked to play. She headed through the door, only to pause and turn back. Despite their differences, she considered the troupe her friends. “If you find your way to London …” She said nothing else. The lump in her throat swelled to the point of pain.
By leaving the troupe she was finally free of Julian Phoenix. Lord Ramscar unknowingly was giving her a chance to start her life over again. Nodding farewell to her friends, she walked through the door to the carriage that awaited her return.
CHAPTER SIX
“I will not have a stranger underfoot in my household !”
Meredith was handling the news of Miss Winlow’s arrival better than Ram had anticipated. Unlike many women in his past, Meredith had not succumbed to tears or thrown a single object at his head. Truly he was optimistic.
“Miss Winlow is joining us at my request,” he said, giving Meredith a level stare. “You are mistress of Swancott. As such, I expect you to welcome her in a manner befitting your position.”
His sister lowered her head and twisted the gold ring on her first finger. “Your Miss Winlow is not a visitor, Ram. She is a servant. Why should she be given any more courtesy than, say, the gardener or scullery maid?”
Ramscar was so stunned by Meredith’s uncharacteristic viciousness, he just gaped at her. Any hope that his sister might concede to his dictates willingly vanished. Still, he was master of Swancott. “You are furious with me, Meredith. Do not shame me by focusing your ire on an innocent woman.”
Meredith flung out her hands, appealing to the heavens. “Why do you not listen to me? I do not need a companion, for I will not be going to London with you.”
Ram strived for patience, bridling his own temper. “We have discussed this several times, and I will not be denied. You are coming to London. There we will celebrate your twenty-fourth birthday with a ball that will serve as your introduction to the ton. As we speak, the preparations for the ball are being carried out.”
His sister reminded him of a terrified, bristling kitten. One thing about cornered creatures, he thought, was they tended to lash out and bite those who underestimated them.
“Have your ball if you desire,” she spat. “I, however, will not be in attendance. Let Miss Winlow take my place.”
“It would be an honor, Lady Meredith. Regrettably, I would be a poor substitute for the Earl of Ramscar’s sister,” Miss Winlow said from the threshold.
Astonished they were not alone, both siblings whirled around to confront the newcomer.
The blonde demurely entered the room. “Forgive me, my lord, for interrupting. Your butler was kind enough to permit me to await you in the front hall. Nevertheless, I could not help but overhear your conversation.”
“Congratulations, Ram,” Meredith said, mockingly applauding him. “Not only is she breathtakingly beautiful but an eavesdropper, too. Well done.”
“Silence!” he growled at his sister’s flippancy. Pivoting, he addressed Miss Winlow. “I must apologize for my sister. The thought of journeying to London has her overwrought.”
Meredith plopped into the nearest chair and crossed her arms. “Good grief! Knowdens never make apologies to the hired help. Have you dallied with cardsharps and courtesans for so long you view us all now as equals?”
His hazel green eyes flashed in warning. “That remark was beneath you,” he snapped. “Apologize to Miss Winlow.”
Miss Winlow stirred, raising a hand in protest. “Lord Ramscar, there is no need—”
“I disagree,” he briskly countered. Ram’s gaze raked over her, resenting her interference. “Nor do I appreciate you overstepping yourself.” He would bloody well deal with his own sister.
“Aye, m’lord,” Miss Winlow replied, using a dialect one might hear on the streets of London but one he had never attributed to her. She did not even hold his gaze.
Meredith smirked at him. “Hear, hear, for the master of Swancott!”
Perfect. He had ruffled Miss Winlow’s lovely plumage, too, with his temper. Ram pressed his fingers to his eyelids. His sister was determined to bait him until he reversed his demand that she join him in London. How had he been drawn into such a damnable awkward predicament? Ram scowled at both ladies. He had had enough.
He pointed his finger at his sister. “You are traveling to London, even if I have to bind you and stick you in a trunk.” His heated gaze sought out the subdued Miss Winlow. She was not fooling him with that pathetic display of servile humility. “And you … you will remain and carry out your duties as my sister’s companion. We have an agreement, you and I. I will not have you running back to your troupe just because you have belatedly realized that you are employed in a madhouse. There will be no talk of quitting!” he thundered. Without waiting for a reply, Ram stomped out of his sister’s sitting room and slammed the door.
Patience pursed her lips in quiet contemplation. The earl had guessed correctly. Her first thought when she heard them arguing was to slip out of the house and return to the inn. Something had stopped her. Perhaps it was the fear and pain in Lady Meredith’s voice that kept Patience from carrying out her plan. Instead of leaving, she had climbed the stairs to meet her new mistress.
“A troupe?” Lady Meredith asked curiously.
Patience had forgotten she was not alone. Reluctantly, she slowly turned around, prepared to face the woman’s disdain.
Lady Meredith expelled a soft laugh. “So you are an actress? How marvelous. Ram gives me a stage strumpet for a companion. I must look more hideous than I thought if you are the best my brother could find.”
Lord Ramscar shoved open the door to the library with his butler at his heels. What he needed was something strong to drink to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth. He despised fighting with his sister.
Comprehending his lord’s needs, the butler seized the decanter of brandy and filled Ramscar’s glass. Scrimm had been in the family’s employ long before Ram’s birth. He did not even know if Scrimm was the man’s first or last name. He was simply Scrimm to the family and as ageless as Swancott. His carefully groomed hair had been white even when Ram had been a young boy. Of medium height, Scrimm’s robust figure could be glimpsed bustling about the household. The smallest detail was not beneath the man’s notice. His quiet efficiency and wry sense of humor had made him invaluable to Ram. Scrimm was always part of Ram’s personal staff, regardless of his residence. From Scrimm’s pained expression it was simple to deduce the man was troubled by what he perceived as a dereliction of duty.
&
nbsp; His expression woefully apologetic, the butler handed Ram the glass. “My lord, I was not aware Miss Winlow had gone upstairs until the damage had been done. I distinctly told the young woman to remain in the front hall until she was summoned.”
Ram sipped his brandy. Staring into the glass, he swirled the fragrant dark liquid as he contemplated the exchange that had taken place upstairs. “No apology is necessary, Scrimm. I should have let Meredith have her tantrum before Miss Winlow’s arrival. My sister is usually a docile creature. Damn me, the lady has a set of sharp teeth, and she tested them on my arse. Would you like to see the marks she left behind?”
“If it is all the same to you, my lord, I shall deprive myself of that distinct honor,” Scrimm said in his usual droll manner.
Ram laughed for the first time all day. There was little cause for laughter in this house, and that was something he hoped to change. He sobered as he thought of the two ladies upstairs. Had Meredith calmed after his angry departure? Miss Winlow was now under his employ, so he assumed that she would behave herself. Still, he had experienced firsthand her sardonic wit. He rubbed the back of his neck in agitation.
It had been a mistake to leave them alone.
“Guard the door, Scrimm.” Ram swallowed the remaining brandy in two hearty gulps. “If Miss Winlow tries to flee, you have my permission to stop her by any means necessary.”
“She will not get by me again, my lord. If drastic measures are required, I shall sit on her and await your return,” the butler promised.
Oh, Ram could well imagine the elderly Scrimm tackling the fleeing Miss Winlow in the front hall and plopping down on her backside. Ram was certain that would confirm the lady’s suspicions that the Knowdens were mad. Christ, what a quandary! Meredith was screeching like a harpy, and now he was likely to lose his new ally because he had made a muddle of things.
Handing the empty glass to Scrimm, Ram strode out of the library intending to put his house in order.
Barbara Pierce Page 5