“I mean that he’s barely left the house since that night, and only then to get so drunk he can hardly make it back again.” Nibley took a breath, shaking his head. “In truth, I don’t know how to explain it, as the two of you always seem to be at daggers drawn, but … but this morning I realised that he was mourning the loss of a love affair.”
“What?” Patience exclaimed in alarm, stunned by the surge of jealousy that blazed through her blood. Who could he be in love with? He’d mentioned no one. Had he been seeing someone else, someone he loved? How could he act in such a way with her if his heart was truly engaged elsewhere? Patience sucked in a breath as her head spun with fury and misery and regret. Why? Why should she care, she was marrying Stephen, after all. Nonetheless, she had to know. “Who?” she asked, hearing the tremble in her voice with dismay.
Caro shook her head, smiling and moving forward, taking her hands and squeezing her fingers. “It’s you, you silly goose,” Caro said, her voice soft. “Didn’t you see the way he looked at you just now? He’s just discovered that you’re to be married, that he’s lost his chance to be with you. That’s why he looked so wretched.”
Patience stared back at her, the words circling in her head though they made no sense whatsoever. August? In love … with her? “Don’t be idiotic,” she snapped as anger rose in her chest. She’d just become engaged to be married, why would they do this to her, now of all times? It was too cruel. “August Bright has never loved anyone but himself,” she raged, fear making her cruel as terror prickled under her skin. Oh God, what if it were true? What if August loved her?
Nibley shook his head, his expression grave now. “If you’d said that just a few days ago, I would have wholeheartedly agreed with you, Miss Pearson,” he said, his voice low and rather sad. “But I’m afraid I agree with Caroline. As incomprehensible as it seems when you consider how he behaves toward you, I believe he truly is in love with you.”
Caro gripped her arm as Patience swayed a little. She felt sick, giddy, and quite unable to deal with this now. Yet what did it matter? Perhaps they were right and by some strange quirk of fate, August loved her. It changed nothing. He would love someone else in a week or two. He’d be a terrible husband, he’d never be faithful to her. He was everything that Patience had warned Caro to avoid, a charming man with a handsome face and no depth to him. A little voice in her mind spoke up for August, defending him, reminding her of the glimmer of something more she’d sensed in him. Not enough, she raged silently. It was not enough to suspect there was more to him. She needed certainty, security, and besides, what did it matter? She was engaged to Stephen, a good, solid, dependable man. There had never been a scandal about Stephen, he didn’t have opera singers and dancers and mistresses attached to his name each week in the scandal sheets. He never would have.
Patience snatched her arm from Caro’s hold. “How could you?” she demanded, staring at first her and then Lord Nibley in fury. “Are you deliberately trying to destroy my happiness, my peace of mind?” Despite her attempts to keep calm, her voice rose, quaking as her emotions spiralled out of control.
“Patience, no!” Caro exclaimed, wide-eyed with horror. “I would never …”
“You’re just jealous,” Patience flung at her, even though in her heart she didn’t believe it. “It looks like I’m actually going to marry and be settled happily and you can’t stand it. You thought I’d always be there for you because I had nothing better to do, didn’t you?” she raged as Caro caught her breath and began to cry.
“That’s quite enough,” Lord Nibley said to her, his voice surprisingly hard and commanding as he reached for Caro’s hand. “I believe you have suffered a terrible shock, Miss Pearson, so neither Caroline nor I will hold your words against you. But it was I who told you of this, not Caroline. I would never dream of interfering in another’s life, only … only, August is my friend and … and I believe perhaps you have made a mistake in Lord St John.”
Patience gaped at him, too astonished to comprehend what he was saying. “It’s not enough that you tell me Lord Marchmain’s misery is to be laid at my door,” she said, as hot tears gathered at her eyes. “Now you malign my fiancé, too?”
Lord Nibley stood a little taller and nodded. “I only wish you to think very carefully, Miss Pearson. I promise I do not speak to hurt you, but marriage is for life, and I have grown very fond of you over the past weeks. I should be sorry indeed to see you make a mistake that you cannot rectify.”
“And I am to comprehend that marrying Stephen St John would be a mistake?” she said, her voice faint now as a tear slid down her cheek. Could this night possibly get any worse?
Lord Nibley sucked in a breath. “I cannot say that with any certainty, Miss Pearson. I have no proof that Mr St John is not everything he appears to be, but I tell you in all sincerity, there is something about the man I cannot like.” He moved closer to her and grasped her hands, and it was only now she realised that they were like ice, and she was trembling. “I do not tell you not to marry Mr St John, Miss Pearson,” he said, his voice full of sincerity. “I only urge caution. Do not rush into this marriage, take your time and be very certain. Follow your heart,” he added with a smile. “It will guide you, I’m sure, if you let it.”
Patience let out a stifled laugh and pulled her hands free, turning away from them.
“Where are you going?” Caro called after her, but she didn’t answer, she just needed to get away from them. She was aware that they followed her, close enough so that she was not seen to be alone, but far enough to give her privacy.
Follow your heart, Lord Nibley had said. The words circled her brain like crows on a freshly ploughed field. What utter nonsense, she scoffed. If she’d followed her heart, she’d have thrown herself at August’s feet and been trampled in his rush to get away from her. Even if there was the slightest grain of truth in their ridiculous supposition, it would still lead her to misery. A lifetime of looking the other way would stretch before her, of not noticing the scent of another woman’s perfume, of discovering her money gambled away and their children going short because of it. No. August was the kind of man who touched her heart, who made her soul sing, but it was just daydreams and illusions. A man like that was not to be relied upon.
Not ever.
Chapter 12
“Wherein August discovers friends and a spark of hope, and Patience begins to doubt.”
“Thank you for bringing him home.”
“That’s what friends do.”
August was dimly aware of the voices speaking over him. Percy and Ben, their voices low and full of concern. Well, this was a new low. He’d done some ridiculous and scandalous things in a lifetime that had brought him notoriety and more than a headline or two in the gossip sheets. Never, though, had he humiliated himself in public. No one before had ever reached his heart, and if his feelings had been bruised a time or two, it was easily disguised. He’d never let anyone see if he was unhappy or lonely, or perhaps not as sunny and contented with life as he made out he was. No one except Patience. He’d let her in, allowed her a glimpse of the man beneath the façade, and this was the result.
A cup of coffee was pressed into his hand and he was aware of Ben’s voice in his ear. “Come on, then, drink that up. Make you feel better.”
August snorted and shook his head, but Ben was having none of it.
“Drink it,” he said, his voice stern now. Why couldn’t they all just go away and leave him be?
“What do you know of St John?” Percy was saying to Ben, something in his tone that made August pay attention. St John, that was the loathsome bastard marrying his Patience.
August really didn’t have a violent bone in his body. He abhorred confrontations and avoided fights wherever it were possible to do so and keep honour intact. However, whoever this St John fellow was, he wanted to tear him apart, limb from limb. This rather pleasant image was interrupted, however, as Percy’s words filtered into his brandy-soaked senses.
/> “I don’t know, Ben. I just don’t like the fellow.”
“What?” August said, trying and failing to bring Percy into focus. “What’s that you say?”
“Drink your coffee and sober up, you damn fool,” Ben cursed him. “Then perhaps you can join the conversation.”
August tried to stand, indignation fuelling his temper. “If this fellow isn’t worthy of her …” he began, the words slurred as his legs refused to co-operate, and he sat down again, splashing hot coffee over his hand. “Damnation,” he swore as Ben tutted at him.
“We don’t know that the fellow isn’t worthy of her, you gudgeon,” Ben retorted, though there was no heat behind the words. “But Nibley doesn’t like him, which seems to be enough reason for doubt in my book.”
August nodded and then regretted it, clutching at his head. “Nibley’s a good fellow,” he mumbled. “Good friend. The best,” he added, realising that there was no one else who had tried to help him, to advise him.
Percy’s face swam before his eyes as the man himself crouched down before him, and he tried hard to focus on it. “We’ll look into him, August,” he said, patting August’s hand like he was reassuring a small boy that there would be cake at teatime. “We won’t let her make a mistake.”
August nodded and tried to stand again as hope lit in his chest. If she could break her engagement, she could marry him. If only he could persuade her to see sense. Before he even got halfway up, Ben’s large hand shoved him back into the seat.
“August, it’s four in the morning and there’s nothing to be done now. Just get some sleep and sober up,” he said, his no nonsense tone cutting through the alcohol haze and making August feel ever more the fool. “In the morning, we’ll make some discreet enquiries. Alright?”
August nodded and raised the coffee cup to his mouth with a trembling hand. This wasn’t over yet. He downed the cup and handed it back to Ben, who grinned at him.
“That’s the spirit,” he said, clapping August on the back so hard that he wanted to vomit.
August swallowed hard and made himself a promise. There would be no more drinking, no more bad behaviour. Somehow or other, he had to get Patience to see that he was a changed man. She had changed him.
All at once, he remembered Beau and how happy he was with his wife and his children. Just weeks ago, August had looked at him and seen only the loss of his freedom, of his hero’s fall from the heights of notoriety. To him, it had seemed as if his glamorous lifestyle had been replaced with one of repetition and drudgery. It was only now that August understood the pity in Beau’s eyes at his lack of understanding.
The thought of returning to his home, of making it his again, with Patience beside him … the idea of it hit him with such longing that his breath caught. That was it? That was what he wanted? All of those years of jumping from bed to bed and pretending he was living the life that every man dreamed of, and that had been what he’d desired all along? He let out a little huff of laughter as the truth filled his heart.
It was.
***
August swallowed another cup of coffee with a grimace. He was awash with the damn stuff and his head still felt like it had been kicked by a carthorse.
“Where’s Ben?” he mumbled, putting his head in his hands and trying to ignore the hearty breakfast that Nibley was devouring. Where did the fellow put it, anyway? It certainly didn’t stick to his bones.
“He remembered a fellow who was at school with St John,” Nibley said between mouthfuls of roast beef. “Went to track him down first and then going to go home to get changed. Be back soon,” he added, before cutting another thick slice of beef.
August closed his eyes as the coffee roiled in his guts.
An hour later and Ben was shown into the parlour, not looking in the least like he hadn’t slept all night, the bastard.
“Morning, August, how’s the head?” he demanded, sounding far too chirpy for August’s liking.
“Like it was run down by the mail coach,” August replied, his tone impatient. “What did you find out about this St John fellow?”
August wasn’t sure if he was pleased or terrified when the man’s face grew serious. “Not that much, but he certainly wasn’t well liked at school. A cold fish, by all accounts. No scandals as far as I can tell, or at least, nothing anyone was willing to tell me about.”
“That’s it?” Percy said, clearly as unsettled and disappointed as August. They could do nothing unless they had proof. That the fellow was not well liked was not something he could use to open Patience’s eyes or enough reason for her to break her engagement. It was only enough for August’s heart to fill with fear. Even if Patience wouldn’t listen to him, if she would never marry him, the idea of her going to a man who would make her unhappy, perhaps even be cruel to her... August’s heart clenched in his chest, fear for her making it hard to breathe.
Ben shrugged. “Not entirely, no. The only snippet I did get involved a young woman, a Miss Trencher. But no one can really tell me anything except that she was ruined and St John was implicated. It seems to have been hushed up pretty effectively. Everyone seems to blame the girl, a fortune-hunter, from what they say.”
“And what do you say?” August demanded, staring at Ben and praying that there was something here he could use.
“I say … it bears further investigation,” Ben said, his face grim. “But we need to track down this Miss Trencher. She’s from Bristol originally, so I’m going there today, see what I can discover.”
August stood and reached out his hand to Ben, who took it as August shook it with warmth. “Thank you,” he said, a swell of gratitude for this man who hardly knew him and owed him nothing. “I’ll be forever in your debt.”
Ben waved his thanks off with a snort. “Don’t worry, I’ll find a way you can repay me one day,” he said, grinning.
“You do that,” August said, smiling in return and feeling all at once that there was hope for him. If Percy and Ben thought he was worth troubling themselves to help, then perhaps Patience could see something in him, too. Miracles did happen, after all.
***
Patience walked beside Stephen, Caro and Lord Nibley walking a discreet distance behind them, and Cilly and a lady friend of hers chaperoning them all.
“You’re very quiet today?” Stephen observed, glancing down at her.
Patience jumped a little, startled out of the thoughts that were snarled up in her head like brambles. Every time she tried to free herself of their clutches, to reason with herself and force her foolish heart to behave, she felt the thorns dig deeper.
“I beg your pardon,” she replied as guilt filled her chest. “I’m afraid I didn’t sleep very well.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding at her, amusement in his grey eyes. “Excitement over the wedding plans, no doubt. Women do get in a tizzy about such things.” Patience frowned, wishing he hadn’t sounded quite so smug and condescending. That was unlike him. “Well, the sooner we get it over, the better and you can sleep sound again, my love.”
Patience swallowed down the bubble of panic that his words brought, and though she’d tried hard to dismiss them, Lord Nibley’s words echoed in her head.
“A-actually Stephen, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to wait a little longer than you suggested. It’s only been a few weeks, after all. It’s all been such a whirlwind.” She looked up at him and offered a smile that she hoped would show him that she just needed a little time. “I’d just like to get to know you a little better.”
“Oh?” He stopped, staring at her hard as the amusement fell from his eyes. Patience felt her heart stutter a little bit as a steely look made his grey eyes look suddenly cold.
“N-not long,” she stammered, thinking perhaps that she’d hurt his feelings. “Just a few weeks. I’ve always thought that September would be a lovely time to get married,” she offered, hoping that this would reassure him that she was only suggesting they wait until the end of the summer.
“No
,” he said, moving forward again.
“I beg your pardon?” she demanded, shocked that he wouldn’t even discuss it with her. She stopped this time, glaring at him as he turned. He glanced at her, considering for a moment before the cool look slid from his eyes.
“My love, you must understand that I am eager to make you my wife. Do not make me wait any longer, please.”
Patience let go of the breath she’d been holding, telling herself she was being foolish and jumpy. It was all Nibley’s fault, putting these ridiculous notions in her head. “No, of course I understand,” she replied, feeling rather awful now. “But the end of this month does seem rather a rush … couldn’t we just …”
Stephen reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. “Why would you ask that?” he demanded, his tone soft but a thread to it that made her a little anxious. “Are you trying to hurt me?”
“N-no!” she exclaimed, perplexed that he could think it. “Of course not.”
“Splendid,” he replied, beaming at her. “Now then, would you like to see the grotto? I’m told young ladies like such places, though I can’t fathom why.”
“Caroline would say because they’re romantic,” she said, as uncertainty grew in her chest and memories of that very place rose to the surface. Stephen snorted in disgust.
“Romantic?” he said, his tone full of revulsion. “Squalid and damp, if you ask me.”
Patience bit her lip as tears prickled behind her eyelids. She would not think of August. She would not.
“I’m sure you’re right,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even. “I don’t want to see the horrid place, anyway.”
Chapter 13
Persuading Patience Page 11