Her scars.
It tore at Ram that the first and last thing any man noticed about his sister was her imperfections.
“Her Grace is holding a ball in Meredith’s honor to celebrate her birthday. Have you received an invitation?” Ram asked, directing their discourse to more pleasant subjects.
“Most likely.” Cadd shrugged. “I have not been in town long enough to glance at invitations.”
Everod hissed. “Invitations. To what? Balls, fetes, and polite afternoons playing cards. Utterly boring.” He clapped his hands and rubbed his palms vigorously together. “Since Ramscar has calmed down and no longer wants to fight me, you might as well tell us what delayed your return to London. Where have you been?”
Usually quite candid about his life, Cadd seemed noticeably ill at ease at the viscount’s question. “Nothing specific. Or criminal. I tarried at my horse farm longer than I had expected. That’s all.”
“Well, stick with us, my lad,” Everod said, clasping the younger man by the neck and pressing a loud smacking kiss to Cadd’s forehead. “Your luck is about to improve.”
Ramscar wondered if it was equally apparent to Everod that their friend was brazenly lying about his absence.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Despite Patience’s initial reservations about leaving the house without first consulting the earl, the drive through Hyde Park was rather pleasant. The dowager duchess was an affable guide who seemed to know a frightening amount of gossip about everyone. Ladies and gentlemen waved and nodded cordially as they passed by the ladies’ carriage.
Patience looked over at Ramscar’s sister and fretted. She was unused to the curious stares. Sympathy for the young lady welled in Patience’s heart when she noticed how Lady Meredith kept fussing with the right side of her bonnet every time a stranger passed them.
The older woman had noticed the telling actions, too. She reached over and patted Lady Meredith’s hand. “My dear girl, you must forgive their rudeness. Ramscar has kept you sequestered away, so naturally many are eager to meet you.”
“You are kind to say so, Your Grace,” Lady Meredith mumbled, sitting with her shoulders hunched in an unflattering pose.
“Nonsense. Why would I bother complimenting a potential rival who bests me in both youth and beauty?” the dowager demanded. The not-so-subtle crispness had the younger woman straightening her spine and reluctantly earning Patience’s respect. “Vanity, my dear girl, is a common flaw one encounters in the young beauties of the ton these days. It is a flaw I pray you will work to correct.”
Her companion’s eyes goggled at the notion that the elegant and beautiful dowager considered her beautiful. “Yes, Your Grace,” Lady Meredith said demurely. When the next gentleman passed them on his horse, the young woman kept her hands clasped in her lap. She still looked miserable, but they were making progress.
Patience smiled, thinking Ramscar would be pleased. Her smile faded when she noticed that the dowager was looking directly at her. With a slight tilt of her head, the older woman winked at Patience. With that brief intimate connection, she and the dowager had become silent conspirators in launching Lady Meredith into polite society.
Unbeknownst to the ladies, one of the gentlemen who had ridden by them earlier had changed directions and had guided his horse alongside them.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace. It seemed rude to ride on without paying my respects,” the dark-haired gentleman said, his brown eyes warming with pleasure when his gaze drifted to Lady Meredith.
Well, this was an intriguing development. Had she already found her first suitor? He looked older than Lady Meredith. If Patience were to guess, she would have approximated his age to be in his early thirties. Although he was not stunningly handsome like Lord Ramscar or his friends Lord Everod and Lord Byrchmore, there was something charming about his face that caught a lady’s eye. Even if he had not known the dowager, the quality of his clothes and the manner in which he handled his horse indicated that he was a gentleman.
“Mayfield,” the dowager addressed her coachman. “Lord Halthorn wishes to speak with us. Please pull us out of this traffic and rest the horses.”
“Aye, madam.” The coachman called out to the team; his vocalizations were almost melodic, as if he was singing his commands to the horses.
The carriage slowed, finally halting with a quick jolt.
“Forgive me, ladies. I had no intention of disturbing your outing. However, it is a lovely day for it,” Lord Halthorn said, confidently controlling his restless steed from shying away from the carriage.
“Handsome gentlemen are almost obligated to disturb the ladies around them,” the older woman said flirtatiously. “You would have injured my feelings if you had not greeted me properly.” Her calculating gaze shifted to her younger companions. “You would have also deprived me of introducing my new friends, Lady Meredith and Miss Winlow.”
Lord Halthorn inclined his head. Something other than polite interest flared in his brown eyes when his gaze lingered on Lady Meredith’s face. “Miss Winlow and Lady Meredith, welcome to London.”
The Dowager Duchess of Solitea had also noticed the gentleman’s reaction to the young woman. “Ladies, allow me to present Fenton Mitchell, Viscount Halthorn. Did I mention that Lady Meredith is the Earl of Ramscar’s sister?”
The viscount grinned self-effacingly, catching on to the older woman’s matchmaking. “No, Your Grace. You have been rather stingy with your knowledge of Lady Meredith.”
The gentleman’s face slowly began to turn red at his confession. Patience glanced over at her companion. Lady Meredith had recovered from her fascination with her shoes, and her expression gradually evolved from coyness into healthy curiosity.
Ramscar’s expectations only involved his sister mingling with polite society. Patience wondered if the earl would approve of his sister securing a husband by the end of the season.
The sounds of female voices as they strode through the house heralded the ladies’ return. Ramscar and his friends had moved outdoors to the back gardens. They had enjoyed the past two hours refining their fencing skills. The physical activity had taken the edge off his earlier frustration that the ladies had left the house without telling him. He had been sorely tempted to join the fashionable promenade of carriages through Hyde Park, but he did not want to embarrass his sister in front of the dowager duchess. Meredith was nearly four and twenty. If he continued to treat her like a child, she would never have any confidence to stand on her own. Besides, what harm could a drive through Hyde Park cause?
“Ram,” Meredith said excitedly, walking as swiftly as her skirts allowed. Ramscar raised his hand, signaling Cadd to hold his position. “You should have joined us. We had a delightful drive through the park!”
It was on the tip of his tongue to remind her that no one had bothered to tell him of their plans, but the happiness radiating from her face silenced his complaint. Twenty steps behind his sister, Patience took her time closing the distance between them.
Lowering his fencing foil, he kissed his sister on the cheek. “Where is the duchess?”
“She had to leave us for another appointment.” Meredith lowered her voice. “Did you know that she claims to have a lover twenty years younger? I confess, for a lady who is eight and forty she is beautiful. However, have you ever heard anything so outrageous?”
Cadd and Everod began choking on their laughter. It was well-known throughout the ton that Solitea’s mother had a preference for younger lovers. There had been an occasion or two when she had collected them in pairs, much to the chagrin of her son and daughter. “The duchess was likely teasing you.” He scowled at his friends to stifle their laughter.
It was hopeless.
“Miss Winlow, the shortest route across the turf is a straight line,” he said, exasperated by her meandering. His barb had her squaring her shoulders as she strode toward them. From his perspective, the lady sat at his table, so there was no reason that she should hover in the background
like an unwanted relative.
“Thank you for your advice, Lord Ramscar. Otherwise, I might have gotten lost in your expansive gardens,” she said sarcastically. In comparison, Swancott’s immense gardens could have swallowed up his town garden several times over.
“Miss Winlow, we meet again,” Everod said smoothly, earning him a threatening look from Ramscar. “The next time you and Lady Meredith decide to ride in the park, I hope you will allow us to accompany you.”
The randy scoundrel had already been warned off. Perhaps he needed a harsher warning that included pain. Ramscar took an aggressive step toward Everod, but Cadd placed his palm on Ramscar’s chest and pushed him back.
“I am merely a—guest. I will leave the decision of all future drives in the park to Lord Ramscar and his sister, Lord Everod,” Patience said, neatly defusing Ramscar’s annoyance by acknowledging his authority. “However, I do thank you for the kind offer.”
Ramscar turned his back on Everod and smiled at his sister. “I want to hear all about your afternoon with the duchess. Did she introduce you to anyone?” He had been disappointed that the duchess’s daughter, Lady Fayre, had not joined her on this afternoon’s visit. Three years younger than Meredith and married to a gentleman named Maccus Brawley, Lady Fayre had just arrived in town with her family and was still setting up her household. Ramscar hoped to introduce her to his sister the night of the ball.
Meredith glanced at Cadd and Everod. She was clearly uncomfortable having what she deemed a private conversation in front of Ramscar’s friends. He was on the verge of suggesting that they go indoors when his sister blurted out, “The dowager introduced me to the kindest, most honorable gentleman!”
“The duchess spent the afternoon flirting and waving young lords to her carriage?”
Patience pressed her fingers to her brow. Hours had passed since Lady Meredith had made her innocent announcement of meeting Lord Halthorn, and Lord Ramscar was still brooding about it. The evening ritual he and Patience had started at Swancott of sharing hot chocolate and brandy while they discussed the day before they both retired had resumed in London. When Scrimm had told her of his lord’s request, Patience had been tempted to refuse. She could think of only two reasons that he might summon her this evening. The first was to finally address what had happened the night she had come to his bedchamber. The second was to discuss Meredith and her attraction to the viscount.
Fortunately, Ramscar wanted to discuss his sister.
While Patience was relieved that his ire was focused on the latter, she did not understand why the earl was so troubled.
“You know Her Grace better than I.”
“Hence, my concern, Miss Winlow! Could you have not done something?” He gestured vaguely.
“Calm yourself, my lord,” Patience said; her concern for him was visible on her face. Setting down her cup of hot chocolate, she stood up and walked over to the small table where he kept various decanters. Choosing the one he had used earlier, she returned to his side and refilled his empty glass. “Drink.”
A soft noise of satisfaction vibrated in her throat when he complied with her order. She set the decanter down on the table beside his chair and returned to the sofa positioned across from him. “You hired me as your sister’s companion—”
“I must confess, I am disappointed in your efforts this afternoon,” he said, glaring at her.
The earl was worried about his sister. Patience bit her lower lip and privately vowed not to lose her temper with the exasperating man. Was it her fault that he had introduced his sister to the older lady? No. Apparently, from the earl’s unreasonable reaction, the Dowager Duchess of Solitea had been rather humble about her exploits.
Composed, Patience clasped her hands and said, “As Lady Meredith’s companion, I can assure you nothing untoward transpired, Lord Ramscar. We encountered dozens of people in the park. Ladies and gentlemen. Lord Halthorn was mentioned by name because he made a favorable impression on your sister.”
The earl fell back into his chair. Tired, he wearily scrubbed his face. “I wish the duchess had warned me that she was running off with Meredith.”
“Perhaps she thought you trusted her.”
“I do,” he snapped, goaded by Patience’s insinuation. “It’s just—Damn me!”
She had never seen him so conflicted. “You did the right thing bringing your sister to London, my lord. Truly. Your sister was not as happy as she had claimed living her quiet life at Swancott. If I may be bold—”
“Are you any other way?” he quipped, causing her to smile.
She had more in common with his sister than he would ever realize. “I believe you were so focused on bringing her here that you never considered what might happen once she arrived in London.”
“Meaning?”
Patience sensed he knew the direction of her thoughts but needed to hear them aloud. “You cannot hold on to her forever. Lady Meredith is awakening, Lord Ramscar. If she is fortunate, she will find a gentleman who does not see her scars, but only the beautiful soul within.”
Delicately yawning, Patience stood. The ball was in a matter of days. She and Lady Meredith would be rising early on the morrow. “You sister will make mistakes.” Patience laughed, thinking of the thousands she had made over the years. “Young ladies in love often do. We cry and we mend. She will survive, I promise you.”
As Patience headed for the door, she heard him grumble, “She might, but what about me?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The night had finally arrived for Lady Meredith’s birthday ball.
As Patience stood off to the side, quietly observing Lord Ramscar and his sister greeting the new arrivals along with the Dowager Duchess of Solitea, she felt pride in her small part in this evening’s festivities. When she had told the earl that Lady Meredith was awakening, Patience had struck upon the truth. The young woman was quite beautiful. For her introduction into polite society she had chosen to wear a ball dress of green satin with epaulette sleeves. A white net was attached to the petticoat. It was flounced with a wide band of matching green ribbon with detailed white lace at the hem. Tiny pink roses adorned her waist and slippers. With the assistance of one of the maids, Patience had pinned Lady Meredith’s hair at her crown and then curled the ends. Aware she was sensitive about her facial scars, they arranged the curls to conceal what they could.
“Since you are a friend of Lady Meredith’s, no one would have been offended if you had stood beside her in the receiving line.”
Patience stared at the young woman and tried not to gape. The woman was stunning, about Patience’s age and height, but that was where the similarities ended. She looked like a fairy queen with her dark cinnamon tresses and otherworldly green eyes. The lady reminded her of someone. Patience glanced at the Dowager Duchess of Solitea and smiled. “You must be her daughter, Lady Fayre.”
“Indeed. And you must be Miss Winlow,” she said, greeting her as if they were equals in a world where rank was everything.
Patience wrinkled her nose. “I gather your mother mentioned me.”
“Yes, she spoke highly of you.”
This time, she did not hide her surprise, causing her companion to giggle.
“Did she try to intimidate you?” Lady Fayre shook her head. “My mother is a good judge of character. Ram had told Mama that Lady Meredith’s friend would be joining his household for the season, but it remained to be seen if you were willing to help your dear friend or were here for your own amusements.”
A protest formed on Patience’s lips, but the other woman hastily added, “The duchess’s concerns about you faded minutes after meeting you. My mother admires spirit, and she claims that you are an interesting addition to Ram’s odd household. That is a compliment, coming from her.”
Patience’s gaze returned to Lady Meredith. Sensing she was being watched, the young lady looked back at Patience and waved. Several ladies in the line leaned to the side to see whom the guest of honor was acknowledging. Fe
eling sort of foolish, Patience waved back. Satisfied, Lady Meredith resumed her conversation with the lady in front of her.
“The duchess has been fretting about this ball since Ramscar wrote her asking for her assistance. Neither one was optimistic that Lady Meredith would attend, and yet there she is, smiling and greeting her guests. I suspect some of the credit goes to you, Miss Winlow,” Lady Fayre said kindly.
Patience basked in the glowing praise. She had done as Lord Ramscar had asked. Lady Meredith looked lovely, and more important, she seemed genuinely happy. “Perhaps a little,” Patience said brashly, and then abruptly clapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment when she recalled her surroundings.
“Good grief! That sounded terribly arrogant.”
Both ladies simultaneously burst into laughter.
“Are you certain you do not want to join your friend?”
“It really is not my place. Besides, this is Meredith’s special day.”
Lady Fayre nodded approvingly. “Then come along. My husband, Mr. Brawley, is upstairs checking on our son. He is a new father, and takes his responsibilities very seriously.”
The dowager had mentioned her son-in-law in passing. Obviously, she had great respect and affection for her daughter’s husband. “I have not had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Brawley.”
“I will be certain to introduce you to him later.” Companionably Lady Fayre took Patience by the elbow and guided her toward the large ballroom. “For now, let me introduce you to one of my dearest friends, Lord Darknell. He is sinfully handsome, but you did not hear such praise from me. And over there is another good friend, Lady Lyssa. You will like her. Her family is pressuring her to make a match this season. Oh dear,” Lady Fayre said as they watched a large-nosed gentleman attempting to pull the statuesque blonde toward the doors that led outside. “Let us go rescue her from Lord Wilberfoss’s clutches, and then we can seek out Darknell.”
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