“Oh, yes,” she said, looking truly grateful. “I think that would be just the thing. It’s most dreadfully hot in here.”
August offered her his arm and eased them through the throng to the open doors that led out onto a large terrace and the gardens beyond. It was wrong of him, naturally, her reputation could be ruined simply by being found alone with him out here, but one had to take one’s chances when they were presented to them.
“Oh, that’s better,” Miss Bridges said, sighing and leaning against the balustrade. “I really thought I was going to have to go home.” She turned, bestowing him with a dazzling smile. “I never realised how exhausting it was, all this dancing and talking and smiling.”
August moved closer to her, a warm smile at his own lips as he lowered his voice. “It is hardly surprising that such a beauty be in constant demand. Everyone wants to know you.”
She gave a little musical laugh and shook her head, making her dark curls bounce in a charming manner. “They want to know my inheritance, you mean,” she retorted, sounding remarkably bitter.
August frowned, feeling a stab of guilt, but nonetheless … “Surely you cannot believe that is the sole reason for your popularity. If you had not a penny to your name, your dance card would still be full to bursting, I assure you.” He reached out and touched her cheek with a fingertip, curious as to why this felt so mechanical. “Such a face could never be ignored, Miss Bridges, you light up the room wherever you go.” The words were true enough, yet they felt strangely hollow to him.
She flushed, a shy smile directed at him as she lifted her face a little. This was his chance, all he had to do was lean in and kiss her. August hesitated, a strange and rather panicky feeling bubbling in his chest, and then he turned away. The realisation that he didn’t want to kiss her was as disturbing as it was extraordinary. She was beautiful, and naive enough to allow him the liberty of stealing a kiss, and … she did absolutely nothing for him. There was no desire burning beneath his skin, no aching need to put his hands on her, to devour her mouth as though she was the air he needed to breathe. A new idea broke through his confusion as he considered this peculiar state of affairs and a prickling sensation of absolute terror rolled down his spine.
Not like with Patience.
***
Patience splashed a little cold water on her face and patted it dry before allowing the next lady to take her place. She had escaped to the withdrawing room in the hopes of getting a little peace and quiet, only to find it crowded with chattering women. Sighing with relief, she spotted an empty chair along the back wall and sank into it.
“Such a crush, isn’t it?” said a middle-aged lady in the chair next to her, waving a pretty fan with fury. “I don’t think I can stay much longer. I shall have to go and drag my husband from the card room.”
Patience nodded her agreement. “I have the most dreadful headache,” she admitted, sitting back and closing her eyes. She opened them with reluctance as the lady patted her hand.
“Here, put a drop of this on your wrists and temples,” she said, holding out a tiny bottle with a cork stopper. “It’s just a drop of lavender water,” the lady explained with a smile. “I never go to an event like this without it. It’s saved me a time or two, I can assure you.”
“You’re very kind,” Patience replied with a smile, doing as the lady bid. To her relief, once she handed her the bottle back, the lady went in search of her errant husband. Sighing, Patience closed her eyes again, hoping the delicate scent of lavender that rose around her would indeed calm her and ease her head. Yet her thoughts were in turmoil. Cilly’s words had struck her hard and sent her into a panic. Her first instinct was to deny the possibility. Of course she wasn’t in love with August. It was ridiculous to even suggest such a thing. She was a practical and pragmatic sort of woman, and the idea of love at first sight was one she did not ascribe to. How could she love a man she barely knew? The idea that she really didn’t know him very well then warred with the outrageous things she’d done with him just that afternoon. Patience did not need a looking-glass to see the hot flush that crept over her skin as she remembered. Desire and horror fought for dominance and she wondered what on earth was wrong with her? How could she have done such a thing, and yet … she knew if she was ever alone with him again that she would not be able to resist another taste.
She was out of her mind, she decided, gritting her teeth as the pain in her head intensified. He was a rake, a shallow, selfish man whose only interest was in his own pleasure. Yet the words jarred. Yes, perhaps he was all of those things, but he was also kind and funny and perceptive. She had never before enjoyed talking to a man as much as she did August. Crossing verbal swords with him was actually rather invigorating.
Oh, dear.
Patience put her hand to her head as the pain intensified. She couldn’t be falling for August Bright. No, no, no. After all of her warnings to Caro about the man … She sucked in a breath as she realised that it was exactly what she was doing. Oh, Patience, you utter fool, she cursed herself. What on earth had she been thinking? A man like August would never offer for her in a million years. Why on earth should he when he could apparently have what he wanted without any of the bother of a wedding ring? Why buy the cow when you could get the milk for free? The vulgar phrase was one that had always appalled her, but she couldn’t deny its veracity in this instance. August Bright was gorgeous, funny, charming, a delight to be with … and this was what made him such an accomplished rake. He hadn’t gained his reputation for nothing, after all.
Sucking in a breath, Patience sat up straight. Well, no more. He had to be avoided from now on. No good would come of any further association with him. If she was this caught up in him already, it would obviously take very little for her to fall for him in a big way, and that she could not allow. She would not spend the rest of her days mourning the loss of him. He had given her a taste of what she would be missing and that would have to be enough. It was too dangerous to be in his company, so she must never see him again. Of course, it would be impossible to avoid him entirely, but … she would have to do her best.
The remembrance that he had asked her to be his friend, and she had accepted, made guilt a weight in her heart. She remembered the sincerity in his eyes, and his words, when he’d admitted that he didn’t have many friends. His loneliness had been genuine, she’d been sure of that, but … but she couldn’t be his friend when it put her heart in such danger. He would have to find another plain Jane to cultivate, if that was what he sought in his friend.
Patience got to her feet, wishing that the evening was over all at once, but she had a dance with Mr St John to endure yet, and Caro’s card was bound to be full. There was no possible hope of leaving early unless she pleaded illness. With the way her head was pounding, that might be all too true soon enough.
Mr St John, at least, had been a delight. A sensible man, his conversation had been unremarkable but by no means dull. He had an interest in the theatre, music, and books, and they had spoken of a number of topics. By all accounts, he had a comfortable fortune and owned a considerable amount of land on the outskirts of Bristol. That he was looking for a wife, he had made very clear. That he was looking at Patience in this regard seemed too good to be true, but he had given her every indication that this was the case, even asking that he might call upon her.
That this extraordinary piece of good fortune had done little to excite her could also be laid firmly at August’s door. Mr St John was the kind of man that Patience had always hoped to meet. A serious man but with a good sense of humour, someone solid and dependable who would not gamble away her fortune nor bully her. So far his manners had been exemplary, chivalrous without being condescending. He seemed to enjoy the fact that she had a mind of her own, and that she was somewhat outspoken. In fact, Patience had been deliberately provocative, just to see what his reaction was, but he had met her rather forthright comments with serious arguments and no trace of disgust at a woman holding he
r own strong opinions.
Making her way back into the ballroom, Patience made herself a promise. She would force August Bright from her mind, and concentrate on a man who might actually make her happy, instead of breaking her heart and leaving her in ruins.
Chapter 10
“Wherein August discovers the truth and is caught in his own trap.”
“You know,” Miss Bridges said, her tone considering. “You’re not at all what I expected.”
August snorted, refraining from commenting that he was not what he expected either.
“I really thought you might kiss me.”
August looked back at her in surprise.
“I’m not a complete idiot,” she retorted with a snort. “I do have a headache, but I knew what I was doing when I came out here.”
August leaned on the balustrade beside her. Tonight was just full of surprises.
“Did you want me to?” he asked, curious now. To his chagrin, she merely shrugged.
“I don’t know, really. I suppose I was curious as to what all the fuss was about.” She laughed as August raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you can’t think that us women don’t gossip about you? You have the most dreadful reputation, you know.”
August frowned. He had always been rather proud of his wicked reputation, but right at this moment it didn’t bring him any pleasure. In actual fact, he found he rather resented it.
“Is that the only reason you wanted to kiss me?” he demanded, rather put out all at once, though he was damned if he knew why.
Miss Bridges frowned, apparently thinking this over. “Yes, I suppose it is, really. You’re not the sort of man I would ever marry, after all.”
Well, wasn’t that just kick in the guts. “Oh?” he replied, hearing the indignation in his own voice and wondering what it was he was so aggravated about. Of course he wasn’t husband material. He’d never wanted to be. If it weren’t for the fact he’d soon be up to his neck in the river tick, he’d not be interested now … would he?
“Well, of course not,” she exclaimed with a laugh, her eyes wide with astonishment. Her face fell as she realised he wasn’t amused. “My goodness, you weren’t serious about courting me, were you?” she said, looking stricken.
August waved her concern away with irritation. “Of course not,” he snapped, and then relented as he saw he’d upset her. “Forgive me,” he said with a sigh. “That is not entirely true. I was courting you, but … well, the truth is I could do with your money, and you really are very beautiful, so …” He shrugged, wondering what in the name of God he was doing in admitting all this to her.
“So two birds with one stone?” she said, grinning at him.
He sighed with relief to discover that she wasn’t angry with him and gave a rueful nod. “Something like that,” he admitted.
“So?” she demanded, her blue eyes glittering with curiosity now. “What changed?”
“I … I don’t know?” he replied as the panicky feeling rose in his chest once more, stealing his breath as Patience returned to his thoughts. Oh, dear God, surely not?
Miss Bridges made a sceptical sound and he turned to look at her, to find her giving him a narrow-eyed look. “Of course you do,” she said, her tone amused. “But by the looks of you, you’re just too terrified to admit it.”
“Admit what?” he demanded, as the terror she’d so accurately described grew in his chest.
Miss Bridges sighed and rolled her eyes at him. “That you’ve fallen in love with someone, of course.”
August sucked in a breath. No. No, no, no. Impossible. Patience Pearson was a … a spinster that no one wanted to marry. She was bossy and opinionated, had terrible taste, her nose was too big and she had a tongue like a rapier, and then he remembered the sight of her in the grotto and desire surged through his blood like a tidal wave. Oh God. But she was only there because she wanted to know what it was to be kissed, to be desired. She certainly had no good opinion of him. Miss Pearson thought him nothing more than a rake, a shallow, self-centred fool who only wanted to marry her step-sister for her fortune, and a man who would take advantage of her loneliness. The realisation hit him square in the chest.
“Are you quite well, Lord Marchmain?” Miss Bridges asked, laying a hand on his sleeve. “You’ve gone as white as a sheet.”
August opened his mouth but couldn’t find anything sensible to say.
“Would you like my smelling salts?” she asked, stepping a little closer to him and looking really rather alarmed now. August decided he felt rather alarmed himself, but before he could find something to say, they were interrupted.
“You bastard!”
They both turned in surprise and August felt his heart drop to his boots as he discovered Lord Nibley and Patience, staring at him with identical expressions of disgust.
“It’s not what it looks like,” he said in a rush, wondering if a more pathetic and unbelievable line had ever been spoken. Beside which, it was exactly what it looked like. He come out here with the intention of seducing Miss Bridges. That he’d had an epiphany and been unable to go through with it seemed a moot point in the circumstances.
To his surprise, Nibley stalked towards him with fury in his eyes. “I should take you outside for this,” he raged, looking rather like a murderous stick insect.
August just gaped at him, too appalled by the look in Patience’s eyes to offer any defence. To his relief, Miss Bridges came to his rescue.
“Lord Nibley,” she said, hurrying to lay her hand on his arm. “You’ve misunderstood, I assure you. I was feeling dreadfully unwell and Lord Marchmain brought me out for some air. He’s been a perfect gentleman, I assure you.”
Patience stared at her step-sister, her eyes full of pity. “Oh, Caro, you little fool,” she said, sounding more tired than angry. “Come along, we’re leaving now.”
“But Patience, you don’t understand,” Miss Bridges protested as her sister dragged her away without so much as a glance in his direction.
Nibley paused, staring hard at him for a long moment before turning on his heel, and leaving August alone.
***
“Go away!” August muttered. He groaned, pulling the pillow over his head as the knocking continued. To his growing irritation, he heard the door handle turn and realised he hadn’t locked it last night. Hardly surprising, as he’d been so foxed it was a wonder he’d made it up the stairs. With a sigh, he cracked open one eye and glared at Lord Nibley, who was staring down at him and looking remarkably like the grim reaper in the dim light of his bedroom.
“What the devil is wrong with you?” Percy demanded, crossing his lanky arms and peering down at August like he was one of his blasted rocks with an unusual configuration. “You’ve hardly left this house for over two weeks now, unless it’s to drink yourself into a stupor. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” August retorted, though his chest felt strangely hollow. “Can’t a fellow get a bit of peace and quiet without a bloody enquiry?”
“No,” Nibley replied, his voice terse. “There’s something wrong with you, that much is obvious. You’ve not been the same since that night at Mrs Grant’s.”
August closed his eyes as the night he’d tried so hard to forget came back to him with far too much clarity. He remembered Patience standing in the moonlight, looking more lovely than he’d ever seen her, and staring at him with such disgust that he wanted to vomit. Shame washed over him and he wanted nothing more than to drink his way back into oblivion. He was a bloody fool. Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do, he had to fall for the only woman in the world who could see past his looks and his charm and know there was nothing to him worth wanting. He was all on the surface, a handsome face with no substance beneath. Nothing that a woman like that would value, at any rate. God, it seemed, did have a sense of humour, and had punished August for his past in the most appropriate and painful manner possible.
“Well?” Nibley pressed and August groaned as he remembered the fellow was still ther
e.
“Just leave me be, Percy,” he begged. “There’s a good chap.”
He heard a heavy sigh and the sound of Nibley shifting from foot to foot. “Caro … that is, Miss Bridges has assured me that I was wrong about … about what happened that night,” he said, and August looked up and gave a huff of laughter. “So, perhaps I … I owe you an apology.”
“She’s wrong and you owe me nothing,” he snapped, glaring at Nibley now. “Of course I went out there to seduce her. Good grief, do you think I was unaware of the fact that she’d be ruined if we were discovered, that she’d be forced to marry me? I knew what I was about and you’re a bloody fool if you think otherwise.”
He waited for Nibley to explode with anger, almost looked forward to the moment where he hit him, though he somehow doubted Nibley’s spindly limbs could do any real damage. But the man just stood staring at him, a curious expression on his face. “I know,” he said, rather taking the wind out of August’s sails. “Caro told me everything, you see. She also told me that you couldn’t go through with it, said she thought you were in love.”
August felt his breath catch in his throat and gave a hollow laugh. Good God, could this day actually get any worse. Wasn’t it bad enough without having his humiliation made public? At least they didn’t know who it was. Small comfort, perhaps, but better than none.
“I have to admit that I didn’t believe her at first,” Nibley continued. “I thought you’d just pulled the wool over her eyes, little innocent that she is. But now …”
Percy kept staring at him, his eyes full of compassion and August considered what a pitiful sight he must make.
“What I don’t understand is … why don’t you fight for her? Whoever she is,” Nibley added, looking truly perplexed. “I mean, for heaven’s sake, August, you’ve got more advantages than most men on earth, why would you not stand up and fight if you really love her?” Nibley turned back to the door, but paused before he left. “I would,” he added, his voice rather fierce.
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