by Regina Scott
“He’s French, Harry,” Patience said. “Or at least he is a French sympathizer.”
“There are those in the War Office who would very much like to hear what he has to say,” Julian said, repositioning his hand on the fellow’s shoulder. “I say we take him to London with us tomorrow.”
“You can take me where you like,” he sneered. “I will tell you only this. My master will not rest until the traitor dies. When he learns I have failed, he will come for her.”
“Take him to the house,” Harry told the grooms as the ladies exchanged glances of concern. “Lock him in the laundry and stand guard. Let no one speak to him. Undene, may I ask for your help?”
The blacksmith nodded. “Whatever you need, Sir Harry.” He bowed to Patience. “I’m glad to see you took no harm, miss. It was brave of you to help like that.”
Patience smiled at him. “I had good examples of bravery to copy.”
He nodded with a smile and turned to follow the grooms as they led Tecet back toward the house.
Julian brushed sand off his stockings. “I feel like a fool. The fellow’s been helping me dress, and I never noticed anything amiss.”
Patience shook her head. “Even at Foulness Manor it seems servants can be invisible.”
“As is this master he mentioned,” Harry said, feeling chilled. “That means Yvette is still in danger.”
~~~
There was little opportunity for discussion until they had all returned to the house. Then they had to reassure Cuddlestone, Emma, Wilkins, and the rest of the staff before Patience could slip away to change out of her potion-stained skirts. She had succeeded in knocking things over and onto herself in the process. The loss of her dress was a small price to pay for Harry and Yvette’s safety.
Harry was waiting for Patience in the doorway to the withdrawing room when she came downstairs. He showed great reluctance to let her out of his sight, coming to stand beside her chair as the others found their accustomed places.
“I’m still perplexed,” Julian admitted, leaning back in his chair. “How did Miss Ramsey escape? How did you all make your way to the shore?”
“Lydia and Fortune are your heroes,” Patience said. “They found me tied up in the laboratory. I’d been trying to attract your attention in every way I knew.”
Meredith smiled down at her pet, who sat in her lap regarding them all as she slowly blinked her copper eyes.
“The smell,” Harry realized.
“Gussie’s formulations,” Patience explained.
“So, when I told Patience your plan,” Lydia put in, “she conceived of a better one.”
“Mr. Tecet wanted Yvette,” Patience said. “Why not give him a wealth of them? If he was confused, that would give you time to capture him.”
“And it did,” Julian agreed. “Now we’ll just have to remove him to the War Office.”
“What of this other person he mentioned?” Gussie asked. “I don’t like the thought of another villain hereabouts.”
Harry bestirred himself. “We know there are a number of French agents in England. I had thought taking Yvette to London would protect her. Now I question that.”
“Will she be safe anywhere?” Villers asked, glancing around.
Meredith looked up. “I know of a situation. I’ll write, and Julian can take the note on his way to town. We’ll follow and await word from him. No one will think to look for her at this particular estate.”
Yvette nodded. “Very well. And do not tell Harry where you take me. He will have enough to concern him here for a time.” She reached out and put a hand on Harry’s arm. “Once my enemy knows I am gone, you and your bride will be safe, mon ami.”
“We should have a few days’ reprieve before anyone knows you were even here,” Harry agreed.
Lydia clapped her hands. “Oh, good! We can still celebrate Easter before you go.”
Harry nodded, but his smile was wan. Patience could guess why. With Yvette leaving, his work stymied, the game was ending. He certainly had no need for the pretense of a betrothal. It looked as if she’d be leaving for Bath herself shortly. She ought to be delighted to start her new life. She wanted so much to be independent. Now the very thought of saying goodbye to Foulness Manor left her heavy. She would be leaving her heart behind.
Lydia glanced around at them all. “I’m so glad. I’ll miss you all after we go our separate ways.” Her usually bright features darkened.
Gussie patted her hand. “This has been an unusual house party, but I must say it was interesting. I wish you did not have to return to London, Lydia. You’ve made an exceptional assistant.”
Lydia threw her arms around Gussie, knocking her back on the sofa. “Oh, thank you, Gussie! I’d be delighted to stay. I’ll have Beau send all my things.”
Her brother stiffened. “Lydia, don’t be ridiculous. You cannot stay here. You’re expected to return to the marriage mart once the Season starts.”
Lydia disengaged from Gussie and raised her chin. “The marriage mart will get on just fine without me, thank you very much. I never enjoyed a minute of it. I’d much rather spend my time inventing something useful.”
“Are you certain?” Julian asked as her brother gaped. “A young lady like yourself shouldn’t waste away in a musty old laboratory.”
“I beg your pardon,” Gussie sputtered.
“I disagree, Mr. Mayes,” Lydia said. “I had a lackluster showing in Society. The only man I cared about decided I wasn’t good enough for him. But when it comes to advancing science and medicine, you heard Gussie. I am exceptional.”
“Yes, you are,” Patience agreed. “And nothing says you cannot return to Society at a later date if it suits you.”
Lydia beamed her sunny smile all around. “Doubtful. Men don’t like women who are bluestockings. Beau says so.”
Every woman in the room aimed their scowls at her brother.
He threw up his hands. “It’s the truth! Come, Lydia, you must see reason.”
Lydia rose, shoulders back and gaze on her brother. The misty green of her eyes had never looked so hard. “No, Beau. You must see reason. All my life I looked up to you. I tried to be the woman you expected: pretty, happy, good-natured, and, frankly, not very bright. I think it’s time I lived up to my own expectations instead.”
Her brother stared at her. “And what are your expectations?”
Her smile returned. “I’m not certain yet, but I look forward to discovering the possibilities.”
Patience, Meredith, Gussie, and Yvette were all smiling at her. So were Harry and Julian.
Her brother sighed. “And what am I supposed to do with myself this Season? I promised our parents I would see Lydia well settled.”
“And so you have,” Patience said.
Julian clapped him on the back. “Never fear, old man. I’m sure Lord Hastings would like to have a talk with you as to how you can support the war effort.”
Harry caught Julian’s eye. “I believe Villers has the matter well in hand.”
Beau sighed again.
Gussie rose. “Time to retire. Tomorrow will be a busy day. Lydia, if the calamus does not yield the results I hope, we might try chamomile next as an additive to the ointment from Patience’s mother.”
“Ooo,” Lydia said, rising and falling into step beside her. “And perhaps mint?”
“Yes, yes, excellent thought. I’ll have Cook set some aside.”
“Come along, Yvette,” Meredith said, standing as well, Fortune safely in her arms. “We can discuss this placement on the way to our rooms.”
Julian hurried to bar her path. “And I hope I may call on you in London, Meredith.”
She hesitated, and Patience bit her lip. But Fortune put out a paw as if offering him her hand, and Meredith inclined her head. “I would enjoy that, Julian.”
Julian was still grinning as he and Beau followed her from the room.
With a wink to Patience, Mr. Cuddlestone slipped out as well.
In a matter of moments, Patience and Harry were alone. For once, no rain pattered against the window. Harry’s hand was warm, protective, on her shoulder.
Patience drew in a breath and stood to face him. His hair curled against his brow as if asking for her touch. His smile encouraged her to share all her secrets.
“I should leave in the morning as well,” she said. “You and Gussie have no further need of me. But I cannot go without thanking you, Harry.”
He raised his brows. “Thanking me? I embroiled you in a false engagement, subjected you to danger, and forced you to live through the worst house party in England’s history.”
She could not help her laugh. “It wasn’t so bad. And a great deal of good came out of it. Gussie has an assistant who is just as eager to experiment. Beau will no longer attempt to blackmail you. He may even stop arriving unannounced and unexpected. Yvette has somewhere safe to stay. And Meredith and Julian have agreed to be friends, at least.”
Harry took her hand in his. “And you, Patience. What have you gained from all this?”
Patience met his gaze. “I learned that I have an inner strength I can rely on. But most of all, Harry, I fell in love with you.”
“Patience.” Her name was an adoration. He bent his head and caressed her lips with his. All of her trembled at the touch. She almost pulled him back as he drew away.
“I don’t know why you love me. You have seen me at my worst.”
“And your best,” Patience protested.
He shook his head, but he did not gainsay her outright. “You know my dreams and how far I am from reaching them. I may never see the name of Orwell restored to the ranks of English gentlemen, but I will never stop trying. Nor will I cease helping England win this war. It is a most unsuitable time to ask a woman to marry me.”
She swallowed, disappointment so strong she thought she might melt under it. “I understand.”
“Do you? Because unsuitable or not, scandalous name or not, I love you, Patience Ramsey, and I am convinced life will be empty without you in it. Will you do me the honor of making our pretend betrothal real?”
Patience stared at him. His eyes were bright, his color high, and the most tender smile sat on his lips. How could she doubt him?
“Oh, Harry,” she said, “yes, yes of course! Nothing would make me happier. I love you to distraction.”
He took her in his arms and kissed her again. Held so close, she could dream of a future together. It seemed her baronet was not so very borrowed after all. She could imagine spending her days with him, sharing the nights, and growing old together. One thing was certain: life with Sir Harry Orwell would never be dull, and she could safely say she would never be invisible again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Easter dawned in a rosy sunrise. Patience put on her best grey poplin gown and the wide feathered hat Gussie had purchased for her in London before they’d left for Foulness Manor. Had it only been a little more than a fortnight? She could scarcely believe it. As Yvette rose as well, Patience helped her into a blue silk gown that had belonged to Gussie. Emma had spent the evening hemming the high-waisted gown for Yvette’s shorter stature.
“Bon,” the Frenchwoman proclaimed when she glanced in the mirror, tweaking a strawberry blond curl into place. “Today, I look like a lady celebrating with friends.”
“Which is what you are,” Patience assured her.
Indeed, everyone seemed in high spirits as they met in the dining room. Mr. Cuddlestone carried their dyed eggs in on a platter, like a rainbow entering the room, and Cook supplied smoked salmon, pastries of various sorts, fresh fruit brought in from a local greenhouse, and other delicacies before they all moved to the coaches.
Harry looked so handsome in his navy coat and fawn breeches buckled at the knees as he led Patience in to services. Garlands bedecked the church doors, and more flowers in stone vases clustered on either side of the altar. Patience caught Gussie eyeing them as if wondering which bloom might improve her formulation. Patience was so happy she couldn’t move herself to suggest otherwise.
She was going to marry Harry.
He confirmed it with the vicar after services.
“The details I promised,” Harry said, handing him a piece of paper. “I’d appreciate it if you would send a copy to her home parish as well. St. John’s outside Carrolton Park.”
The vicar readily agreed, beaming at them both.
“Why Carrolton Park?” Patience asked as Harry walked her back to the curricle through the chiming of church bells.
“The banns are supposed to be announced in the parish of the bride and groom,” Harry said. “You lived at Carrolton Park the last three years. Just think—this way Lady Lilith will have to hear your name linked to mine for three weeks, knowing the entire while that we plan to wed.”
Patience shook her head. “What a considerate groom you are, Harry.”
“And you, madam, are the perfect bride. I am the most fortunate of mortals.”
Patience leaned closer, the feather on her hat brushing the brim of his. “There’s no one around. You don’t have to posture.”
“I refuse to be silent,” Harry insisted. “I will tell you and show you how much I love and admire you every day of my life.”
And he proceeded to fulfill his promise.
~~~
That afternoon, Meredith sat in the Orwell coach, Fortune on her lap, as the team trundled away from Foulness Manor. Yvette sat next to her, hands folded properly, one of Patience’s dark gowns obscuring her petite figure.
“And these Carroltons,” she said, watching Meredith’s hand as it stroked Fortune’s fur, “they will be amenable to hiding me?”
“I believe that to be the case,” Meredith said. “Lady Carrolton has been seeking a new companion since Patience left, and I do not believe she has filled the position. As Patience has noted, companions, and servants, are generally invisible. No one will look for you there.”
Yvette smiled. “At least you did not try to make me a chef. I have no experience in the kitchen. A companion should be easy—just smile and nod.”
Meredith kept her gaze on Fortune. “It may not be so simple. Lady Carrolton is rather exacting in her standards, and her daughter, Lady Lilith, has high expectations.”
Yvette waved a hand. “I have lived in finer houses, made myself useful to the Empress when needed. This earl’s family will be no trouble.”
Meredith smiled. “I know no one better equipped to rise to the occasion. Fortune will, of course, have to approve of the earl.”
Yvette frowned. “But why? I thought I was to deal only with his mother and sister.”
“Very likely,” Meredith said. “But you know the value of keeping your options open. Never fear, dear. I’m sure it won’t be long before you’re part of the family.”
~~~~~~
Dear Reader
Thank you for reading Patience and Harry’s story. Like Harry, I find Patience epitomizes the best of English womanhood. I know she will make a difference in Harry’s life, and he in hers. If you’d like to know how her friend Jane became engaged to the Duke of Wey, look for Never Doubt a Duke.
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Turn the page for a sneak peek of the third book in the Fortune’s Brides series, Never Envy an Earl, in which Yvette de Maupassant finds herself facing dangers on all sides—a persnickety countess in need of kindness, her daughter in need of a makeover, and a strapping earl who just might need an unconventional wife.
Blessings!
Regina Scott
Sneak Peek: Never Envy an Earl, Book 3 in the Fortune’s Brides
Series by Regina Scott
Surrey, England, April 1812
How far did she have to go to be safe?
Yvette de Maupassant peered out the window of the coach her friend Sir Harold Orwell had loaned her and saw nothing but wilderness. Well, perhaps wilderness was too strong a word for the sweeping fields and patches of woods, bright with the glory of spring. But after spending the last ten years stealing secrets from Napoleon and his sycophants and traveling among the French elite, the Surrey countryside seemed as foreign as Africa.
“And you had no one in London you could trust?” she asked her companion.
Meredith Thorn smiled from her side of the coach. She would have been at home among French society. Her lustrous black hair was properly confined under a broad-brimmed velvet hat of a lavender that matched her eyes. The ostrich plume that curled down one cheek had been teasing her pet Fortune since they’d left London four hours ago. Yvette had seen the grey cat eyeing the thing from time to time on her perch on the bench beside her mistress. She’d only batted at it three times. Such restraint!
“London was unsuitable,” Meredith said, wiggling her gloved fingers against her purple poplin skirt as if to direct Fortune’s copper-colored eyes away from the tantalizing feather. “Too many people. We were lucky to spirit you into the War Office for your meeting and out again with no one being the wiser. Your enemies will not think to look for you at Carrolton Park.”
“Because no one can find it,” Yvette said, but she smiled as Fortune pounced toward her mistress’ fingers, missing them by moments as Meredith pulled away.
Yvette scratched the plush seat, and Fortune’s ears pricked, gaze narrowing in on the movement. Ah, to have such a life, with no more worries than where to play next. Her life had once been as pleasant, though it had changed forever the day the mob had come for her family.
Now the long hair her maid had faithfully brushed each night was cut short in curls about her head like a strawberry blond cap. It had been easier to care for when her cousin had insisted she serve as the lowliest chore girl in his home. In defiance, she had not changed it when Napoleon had demanded that she be brought to his court instead to serve his wife. How her cousin had preened that one of his family had been close to the Empress. As if she would ever have claimed her cousin Claude as family.