Never Borrow a Baronet

by Regina Scott

  Beau leaned around Julian and Patience to eye Harry. If he noticed, Harry gave no sign.

  Meredith took the part of Cleopatra. With her thick dark hair and flashing eyes, she was all too easy to imagine as the queen of Egypt who had enthralled countless men. “If it be love indeed,” she said, gaze lighting on Julian, “tell me how much.”

  Julian returned her gaze, transfixed.

  Lydia raised her chin, voice strong and firm in the role of Antony. “There’s beggary in a love that can be reckoned.”

  Julian nodded agreement. Did he truly think men should be exempt from expressing their love? Small wonder Meredith had been disappointed in him.

  “I’ll set a bourn how far to be beloved,” Meredith said with a toss of her head, as if as queen she was truly capable to setting a boundary on love.

  Lydia put a hand on her heart. “Then must thou needs find new heaven, new earth.”

  What would it be like to be loved beyond the boundaries of heaven and earth? To have a man willing to sacrifice all just to be with her?

  She waited for the next line, but no one spoke. Lydia glanced pointedly at Gussie, who shook herself and bent over the page.

  “News, my good lord, from Rome,” she called out.

  Lydia sighed. “Grates me. The sum.”

  Meredith as Cleopatra interrupted, and the two characters argued back and forth, both fervent. Even Gussie watched without moving.

  Harry leaned closer to Patience. “He’ll never convince her of his love. Not while she doubts him.”

  “It is possible to love despite doubt,” Patience murmured back. “The lack is in her, not him.”

  Harry chuckled. “You’ll never make me believe it.”

  Gussie scowled at him, and he inclined his head in apology.

  But Patience found it hard to attend. Was that the problem between them? She’d feared Harry thought her too cowardly to stand beside him, that only if she found an unknown courage could she hope to win his heart. Could it be he doubted she could care for him because he doubted himself?

  The ladies finished the reading to great applause, particularly from Julian, and adjourned to the withdrawing room for refreshments before bed. Patience kept glancing at Harry, who laughed and conversed as if he hadn’t a care. Had she so misjudged him?

  Yvette was the first to rise, forcing the gentlemen to their feet. “Stay,” she said with a magnanimous wave. “I find myself fatigued and would retire.” She glanced at Patience, then quickly away, as if unwilling to impose. Yet Patience could see the darkness growing under her eyes as Yvette slipped from the room.

  “Perhaps I should go,” she murmured to Harry as the others resumed their seats. “She should not be alone.”

  He reached out and squeezed her hand. “You are very good to us, Patience.”

  She managed a smile before taking her leave as well.

  The stairs were empty as Patience climbed them. The only person in the upper corridor was Beau’s valet. He quickly bowed out of the way as Patience approached. Funny. She’d become used to being unseen and uncared for at the Carroltons. Gussie and Harry, Mr. Cuddlestone and Emma, had made her feel part of the family. She no longer could convince herself it was all because of the false engagement.

  Yvette was at the window, gazing out into the night, when Patience entered the room.

  “Forgive me,” she said, turning. “Sometimes I find happiness difficult.”

  “I know,” Patience said, going to join her. “It’s hard to change one’s attitude, even when circumstances warrant it. Sometimes I forget I’m no longer a servant.”

  Yvette smiled. “And I am no longer sure what I am or could be. But tomorrow will be better, oui?”

  “Yes,” Patience agreed. “Let me help you change.”

  Yvette laughed. “Non, tonight, I play your servant first. I will bedeck you in flannel and brush out your hair. You will sleep like a babe.”

  Though she wasn’t sure she could sleep so soundly, Patience turned to let her begin. Yvette was still brushing her hair when Emma arrived, bearing a foaming white drink in a crystal glass.

  “Mr. Teacake’s recipe,” she said. “He claims it helps his master, Mr. Villers, sleep. Made it with his own hand, he did.” She offered it to Yvette.

  The Frenchwoman shook her head. “I wish nothing but thank you and Mr. Villers’s man for the thought.”

  Emma sniffed at the brew. “I can’t blame you. Doesn’t smell all that good to me. Mr. Teacake was holding it in his hands when I returned Fortune to Miss Thorn and, and the little darling sneezed at it, twice! I’ll return it to Mr. Teacake and come back to help.” She nodded to Patience. “Thank you for arranging for more help, Miss Ramsey. Young Mary is already assisting Miss Thorn and Miss Lydia.”

  She had no sooner left than there was a rap at the door. Still fully dressed, Yvette went to answer.

  “Ah, ‘Arry! Did you wish to kiss your bride goodnight?”

  Patience’s heart leaped, but she took a breath and turned to meet his gaze.

  He was staring at her, eyes wide, and Patience tucked back her unbound hair.

  “I wanted to make sure you were both all right,” he said.

  Yvette held the door wider, grin merry. “Oh, we are in very good spirits, oui?”

  Patience moved closer. “We’re fine, Harry. It was good of you to ask.”

  He nodded, but he made no effort to leave. With a laugh, Yvette went to the window once more, putting her back to them to give them privacy.

  “You should go,” Patience murmured. “If the causeway opens tomorrow, you have a long journey ahead of you.”

  He nodded, reluctantly, she thought. “Very well. Is there anything I can do for you tonight?”

  Tell me you love me. Tell me you never want me to leave. Hold me and kiss me as if you’ll never let me go.

  “No,” Patience said. “But thank you, Harry. Sleep well.”

  He stepped back, and she eased the door shut.

  “You did not heed my advice, I think,” Yvette said, turning from the window. “You have not told him you love him.”

  “No,” Patience admitted. Her fingers were twisting in her nightgown; she forced them to stop. “But I begin to fear he won’t believe me even if I summon the courage to speak.”

  Yvette cocked her head. “Why?”

  “Harry’s family is held in disrespect,” Patience explained. “That’s why it was easy for him to play the scoundrel to hide his work with you.”

  “But his men respect him,” she protested, crossing the room. “This I have seen. And here, his staff treat him like a son.”

  Patience had noticed that as well. Though he had been a fatherly man, the Carrolton butler would never have spoken to the earl or his mother the way Mr. Cuddlestone spoke to Harry and Gussie. But how could she forget Beau’s snide remarks?

  “I take it Society has not been as kind,” Patience told her. “I think it weighs on him.”

  Yvette was watching her. “And does it trouble you? Do you doubt him?”

  Patience met her gaze. “No. Not anymore. But, doubting himself, I’m not sure he would accept my love.”

  “Ah.” She sighed. “I suppose, my dear Patience, you will not know until you try. You must decide if he is worth risking your heart.”

  She had kept silent, remained in the shadows, telling herself that was her place as a companion. All this time, had she merely been trying to avoid risking a harsh word, an unkind look? Had she been so intent on protecting her heart she couldn’t give it to Harry now?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It took Harry some time to fall asleep that night. It wasn’t the potential danger of transporting Yvette that kept him awake, or the determination to make sure Villers didn’t threaten their plans. No, it was the image of Patience, standing silhouetted against the fire, hair falling about her shoulders. He’d seen her in her nightgown before, the day he’d blundered into her bedchamber, wounded. Tonight, she had seemed softer, vulnerabl
e, and all he’d wanted to do was pull her close and kiss her.

  Perhaps he was as selfish as his forefathers. He’d thought to remove her from his life to protect her, yet he couldn’t seem to let her go.

  Blue sky greeted him when he rose the next morning ahead of most of his guests. He shaved and dressed himself before Cuddlestone appeared.

  “Perhaps the silver-shot waistcoat instead?” his man asked with a hopeful smile.

  Harry waved him off and headed for the stables.

  Julian was there before him, waiting for one of the grooms to saddle his horse.

  “Going to check the causeway?” Julian guessed.

  Harry nodded, and the other groom went running for his horse, Rapscallion. The two men rode out a short while later. They travelled in companionable silence, the day bright and warming.

  “I detected some thawing from Meredith,” Harry ventured as they cantered toward the edge of the hill.

  “I have hope,” Julian confessed. “I intend to pursue her when we return to London. Which may be very soon.”

  Harry reined in beside him. The waters still crossed the road, but much less frantically, and he could see the dirt of the track in places.

  “Tomorrow, if we have no rain,” Harry agreed. “Now, that’s reason to celebrate.”

  Many of the others were similarly delighted when Harry and Julian returned to the manor. Only Lydia and Patience seemed less than thrilled that the house party would soon be ending. Still, Patience rallied and took everyone out to the laundry outbuilding to dye eggs for the Easter celebration the next day. She was such a good hostess, seeing to everyone’s needs, that Harry didn’t have a chance to speak to her alone until later that afternoon, when they all took a turn in the gardens under the late March sun. The air smelled fresh, washed clean, and raindrops still sparkled here and there on flowers and shrubs, anointing them in silver.

  “You continue to amaze me,” Harry told her as they strolled arm in arm. “I’d think you’d be tired of all this by now.”

  “I like to be of service,” she replied. Then she made a face. “Harry, we must talk. Alone.”

  Yvette and Lydia were walking just ahead of them. Gussie and Villers were behind, with Meredith and Julian trailing so she could walk Fortune on her leash. Normally, taking Patience aside might be challenging, but there was that false engagement to rely on as an excuse.

  “I’ll find a way,” Harry promised.

  Something zinged past him. A bee, so early in the season?

  The loud crack from the trees warned him of his error.

  “Down!” Harry cried, grabbing Patience’s arm and tugging her to the gravel. The others fell as well, Meredith reeling in the leash to hold Fortune close.

  “Why?” Lydia asked, the last to remain standing.

  Gussie, on the ground near her, pulled on her pink muslin skirts. “That was a gunshot, dear.”

  Washing white, Lydia dropped to the gravel.

  Patience was shaking beside Harry, and fear lanced him. The bullet must have been meant for him. What if it had struck her instead? He had to get her to safety.

  He nodded to Julian. “Escort Patience, Meredith, and Gussie into the house. Villers, take your sister and Yvette.”

  “I will go nowhere,” Yvette vowed.

  “For once,” Harry said, “don’t argue. Do you want to get one of the others killed?”

  Yvette paled. “Mais non! But I would rather go with you to chase this creature who threatens us.”

  Just then, Cuddlestone and Wilkins spilled from the house. Wilkins carried a long gun and Cuddlestone brandished a sword. Harry could see his grooms running armed from the stables as well.

  “There!” Harry shouted, pointing to the wood. He rose to follow, but Patience caught his arm.

  “No,” she said. “I cannot see you hurt again.”

  She was white, but still, and determination etched every feature. Harry lay his hand over hers. “Go with Julian. Keep everyone away from the windows.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and sprang up to follow his staff.

  Yet, once again, their search proved futile. Though they checked the woods, the outbuildings, and the path to the shore, nothing betrayed the presence of another except the silence of the area.

  “Post guards around the manor,” Harry instructed Cuddlestone as they returned to the house. “I don’t want so much as a cricket hopping close without us knowing about it.”

  Cuddlestone nodded so quickly his head might have been on a spring.

  Harry’s guests were nearly as agitated when he joined them in the entry hall. Gussie’s draperies had been removed, but the normal furnishings were still arranged against the walls. At least that left room for Julian and Gussie to pace. Villers was hunched against the hearth, as if trying to stay as far away from the door and windows as possible. Yvette stood nearby, gaze darting about as if she trusted no one. Patience sat with Lydia, Meredith, and Fortune. Even the cat looked up as Harry approached.

  “We scared him off,” Harry reported with his best smile. “But it’s probably best that we remain inside until the morning.”

  Someone groaned.

  Lydia glanced around. “I don’t understand. Surely no one shot at us on purpose. Wasn’t it just a poacher or a smuggler? Beau says there are some in the area.”

  Her brother straightened and cleared his throat, though he looked at no one. “I cannot help thinking that this is at least partially my fault.”

  Harry met Julian’s gaze.

  “Do tell,” his friend drawled.

  He rubbed his boot against the wood floor. “I tend to notice oddities—Harry’s comings and goings, his whispered conversations with Mayes, the sudden arrival of his cousin. I had formed a theory in my mind, mentioned it to some of you. Perhaps I inspired others to take matters more seriously, to take action, as it were.”

  Yvette waved. “I have dealt with worse. You are a fly, monsieur. Easily swatted.”

  He frowned as if he wasn’t sure whether to thank her for exonerating him or to take insult.

  “I’m more likely to be blamed,” Harry said. “Few too many jealous husbands.”

  To his surprise, Patience surged to her feet. “Enough! There are no jealous husbands. You are not a scoundrel. Someone shot at you. I might have lost you.” She choked and turned away.

  Harry hurried to her side. “Patience, forgive me. I never meant…”

  She dashed away tears. “That is entirely the problem. You never mean anything to happen, yet it does. Someone might have been killed today. We cannot sit and pretend otherwise. We must act.”

  Yvette swept up to them as well. “She is right. You cannot expect me to sit playing children’s games while danger crawls into England.”

  “What danger is crawling into England?” Lydia asked.

  “Nothing,” Harry said with a look to Julian.

  “You have us to protect you, Miss Villers,” Julian assured her.

  Patience shook her head. “The time for lies is over. This could affect the outcome of the war.”

  Villers glanced between them. “So, Harry isn’t smuggling. He’s spying.”

  Yvette nodded. “Et moi, aussi. I am not an Orwell, alas. I was a lady in the Emperor’s court. I have sent word to England from France, through ‘Arry.”

  “If you breathe a word of it,” Julian threatened Villers.

  He held up his hands as well. “I swear! This involves the very safety of England.”

  Lydia stood. “No one should sit while England is in danger. Rule, Britannia!”

  “Death to her enemies!” Julian agreed.

  “God save the King!” Gussie cried.

  Fortune meowed as if in agreement.

  Meredith gazed around at them all. “Very inspiring, but perhaps myopic. We have no idea who took that shot or who was the intended victim.”

  “Me,” Yvette said, turning to her. “Someone must have followed me from France.”

  “Not necessarily,” Patience
insisted. “Harry was shot before you arrived.”

  “What?” she demanded, rounding on Harry. “Why did you not speak of it?”

  Harry help up his hands. “Peace! Yes, I was injured at the shore. But it was a glancing blow. It might have been aimed at…the friends with me.”

  “Non,” Yvette said. “It was for you, mon cher. Someone wishes us to stop our work.”

  Julian turned to Harry. “There’s nothing for it, Harry. We must catch this villain.”

  “But how?” Lydia put in. “We don’t know who it is, what he looks like.”

  “If he is even a he,” Meredith added.

  Harry shook his head. “I applaud your enthusiasm, but, as I have been cautioned, this isn’t a game. Yvette must speak with the War Office. What she knows may be vital to England’s efforts to end this war. Tomorrow, Julian and I will escort her to London. Until then, we must all work to keep her safe. Yvette, you are to go nowhere, do nothing unescorted.”

  She eyed him. “So, you would imprison me again.”

  “Not just you,” Patience put in. “I am not convinced Harry is any safer.” She turned to Harry. “If Yvette must be guarded, so must you.”

  ~~~

  Oh, the pride of the man! Patience could not like the way Harry shifted on his feet, as if preparing to dash out into danger.

  As if he feared as much, Julian positioned himself between Harry and the closest door. “She’s right, Harry. You could easily be the target. If we take shifts, we should be able to keep you and Yvette safe until tomorrow.”

  Harry nodded slowly. “Very well. We’ll make arrangements to keep us all safe.”

  It was a daunting thought, that danger lurked just outside these walls. And if the last few days had been tense, Patience did not like thinking about the next few hours.

  Yet everyone seemed determined to make the best of things. Gussie and Lydia pulled Meredith and Yvette aside to discuss what Yvette would need to establish herself in London. Emma brought in a feather and offered it to Lydia. Her antics with Fortune won a smile from more than one person. Julian remained beside them, arms crossed, as if daring any villain to come closer. Beau clung like a shadow to Harry.