Persuading Patience

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Persuading Patience Page 13

by Emma V. Leech


  “That … that’s not what I meant,” she said, wondering what the hell she had meant. She was all up in the air, her emotions so fractured she could hardly recall how to breathe, let alone think clearly.

  “Yes, it is!” Caro shouted and Patience hushed her with alarm. At this rate, the neighbours would hear her. “And besides,” she said, folding her arms, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “August noticed you, Patience. He noticed you first.”

  Patience snorted, wondering if Caro was really that naive. “He noticed you first, you little fool. He only spoke to me in order to get to you!”

  “To begin with, perhaps,” Caro acknowledged with a shrug. “But I bored him silly. I could tell whenever we were together that he was having to work to converse with me.”

  “Not a problem you have with Lord Nibley,” Patience replied with a smile, hoping to turn the tide of this conversation before she lost her mind entirely.

  Caro’s face softened and she smiled. “No,” she admitted.

  Patience slumped back into her seat. Her thoughts were running in repetitious circles that only seemed to turn in upon themselves. She was so exhausted that she could probably sleep for a week, and yet so tense and restless she knew she’d never manage to close her eyes. Whatever was she to do?

  ***

  August made his way back to his house in a blur. He found himself forced to apologise twice over for walking into people, such was his air of distraction. As much as he wanted to believe Patience would take a chance on him, as much as he’d felt certain she wanted to, he did not feel any certainty that this would be the outcome delivered to him.

  Patience was too good, too honourable and fair-minded to simply throw St John over without a thought, no matter if she loved him and not her fiancé. She was too black and white in her views of what was right and wrong, and he knew well enough his character was beyond sullied. No matter that she wanted him, she’d choose the righteous path, even if her own happiness was put at risk. She would keep her promise and protect her family from scandal, because that was who she was. If that weren’t the case, he wouldn’t love her so fiercely as he did, but that didn’t help him now.

  With his spirits sinking lower with every step, he was thoroughly wretched by the time he opened the front door. Heading to the parlour and the brandy decanter, he swore aloud as he realised that even this relief from reality was lost to him as he’d promised Patience that he’d not drink to excess any more. Entering the room in any case, he found Ben waiting for him, his expression grave.

  “Thank goodness,” he said, leaping to his feet and grasping August by the arm. “Come along.”

  “What?” August exclaimed, frowning as Ben towed him forcibly from the room. “Take your hands off my coat, Ben,” he remonstrated, trying to tug his arm free. “You’re creasing it all up. What the bloody hell has gotten into you?” he demanded as Ben opened the front door.

  “Stephen St John,” Ben replied, his tone dark as a cold sensation bloomed in August’s chest.

  “Why the devil didn’t you say so?” August replied, and hurried out the door after him.

  Half an hour later and they were standing in front of a dilapidated building on Avon Street. This was the slum area of Bath, one which was disregarded by those wealthy visitors who came to spend their days on lavish entertainments, on shopping and the theatre and returning home to splendid new houses on the Circus or Great Pultney Street. The Avon slums were older, narrower, and far darker, and not a place to venture to alone.

  “Good God,” August said, staring around him with dismay. “She’s here?”

  Ben nodded, his face as grim as his surroundings. “So I’m told.” He moved to the door and knocked, waiting for a moment before hammering a bit harder.

  “Steady on,” August reproved him, but Ben just snorted and shook his head.

  “She’s a whore, she’ll likely still be dead to the world at this time of the afternoon.” Ben seemed to have the right of it, as it took a deal more hammering before cursing could be heard from the other side of the door.

  It was opened by a young woman who might have been anywhere between twenty-five and forty. Her face suggested she was younger, but there was a hardness in her eyes, a cynical expression to her weary face that made her look far older. Nonetheless, her expression brightened at the sight of two handsome, wealthy gentlemen on her doorstep.

  “My, my, gentlemen,” she said, wetting her lips and cocking her hip, loosening the hold she had on the wrap which covered her to show an expanse of soft flesh. “Couldn’t wait for me to get to work, eh?” She looked them over, a bold, lingering look before she stepped back and allowed them entry into her home.

  August did his best not to wrinkle his nose in disgust at the foetid and overripe stench that assaulted him on entering the single room dwelling. It was dark and dirty and he glanced at the bed with a shudder.

  “We’re not here to take advantage of your, er … ample charms, Miss Trencher,” August said to the girl, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. The change in her demeanour was instantaneous, suspicion glittering in her eyes as she moved to a small table and snatched up a knife.

  “Oh?” she demanded, backing away from them. “Whatcha want, then?”

  August held up his hands, as Ben tutted at him. “Not to hurt you,” August said in a rush. “We just want information. We’ll pay you for it.”

  The girl looked puzzled now and frowned at them, pushing dirty blonde curls from her face and clutching her wrap tighter around her. August noted that she still held the knife, clenched in her fist.

  “Does the name Stephen St John mean anything to you?” Ben asked as August felt torn between hoping it did and that she’d never heard of him.

  The woman’s face darkened and she spat on the floor at their feet. “That’s what Stephen St John means to me,” she said, her tone furious and full of contempt.

  “Why?” August asked, a tight sensation growing around his heart. “What did he do to you?”

  Miss Trencher stared at them in disgust. “What’s it to you?” she demanded, folding her arms now, a defiant look in eyes. “Why should I tell you?”

  August took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Miss Trencher, we have no right to ask you such personal questions, none at all, but … but someone I care for very much may be at risk from this man. Please, would you help me? As I said, we’ll compensate you for your time.”

  The woman hesitated, frowning at him, studying his face until she let out a breath. To his relief, her expression softened and she put down the knife. “The trouble with Stephen is that he’s a liar, and he’s bloody good at it an’ all,” she said, the bitterness in her tone inescapable. She sat down at the only chair, elbows on the table as she sighed, looking up at them. “I worked at his place, just a chambermaid like, but ‘e took a fancy to me.” Miss Trencher shrugged, her eyes far away now, in another place. “I was a good girl, back then,” she said, sounding rather wistful. “Local lad was sweet on me, reckoned we’d get married, and then Stephen decided I was his.” August watched with pity in his heart as she gave a heavy sigh, one hand running through her hair and getting caught in the tangles. She sat for a moment, working them through with her fingers. “He was lovely at first,” she said, her voice low. “Such a gentleman. Never wanted so much as a kiss, just to walk out with me, talk to me about things. No one had ever really talked to me before. We talked about all kinds of things, made me feel like ‘e really valued me, you know? Like ‘e valued my opinion. He promised me I’d be safe, looked after, I wouldn’t want for nothin’.”

  She fell quiet and August exchanged a glance with Ben, whose troubled expression reflected everything he was feeling.

  “And then?” August pressed, his voice soft.

  “And then ‘e got what ‘e wanted,” she said, her tone dry. “He changed then. It didn’t ‘appen all at once,” she said, sounding thoughtful now. “It’s like … like he gets in your head. Makes you believe y
ou’re the one in the wrong, like you’re hurtin’ him by being difficult, by wantin’ too much.” Her face darkened as she stared back at August, warning in her voice. “He makes you feel worthless, an’ once you start believin’ that, you’re done for, ‘cause that’s when he’ll start to belt you.”

  August sucked in a breath, clenching his fists. By God, if he’d been determined to keep Patience from marrying this bastard before, now any choice had been taken from the equation. He had to get her away from the man.

  “I’ll kill him,” he growled, one hand raking through his hair.

  “I’d pay to see that,” Miss Trencher said with a weary smile. “If not for him, perhaps I’d be married now, instead of earning my bread on my back,” she said with a sneer. “So kill the bastard and good luck go with you, but mind yourself if you go for him.” There was a stark warning in her voice that August took note of. “He’s a black-hearted villain, a big bugger an’ all.” She lifted her hand, wagging one finger at August. “Just don’t go thinkin’ that the devil will play by the rules, ‘cause ‘e’s no gent. Not like you, sir,” she added with a smile.

  August reached for his money, sliding a generous reward onto the table for her time and information that he could ill afford. Miss Trencher’s eyes grew wide at the sight of it and she got to her feet, walking a little towards August. “I hope you get your lady friend away from him,” she said, her voice quiet now. She moved closer and trailed a finger down his chest. “And if you fancy stayin’ awhile, after you been so generous an’ all…” she added, looking up at him from under her lashes.

  August cleared his throat and smiled at her. “A generous offer, Miss Trencher, and one I thank you for, but in the light of this information, I have less time than I believed. I must act without delay.”

  The woman sighed with regret, her eyes sliding from August to Ben. Ben grinned at her and blew her a kiss. “Perhaps another time, sweetheart,” he said, shaking his head. “I need to keep this fool out of trouble.”

  Miss Trencher looked disappointed by this turn of events but graciously showed them to the door. “Come back any time, gents,” she crooned, her soft voice following them as they hurried away.

  Chapter 15

  “Wherein our hero gets desperate and does something rash.”

  “I’ve made arrangements for the church, and explained things to Mother. She’s excited to meet you, of course. I’ve told her I will bring you the day before the wedding so that you can meet and get to know each other.”

  Patience listened to Stephen talking, going through all the arrangements he’d made, none of which she’d had the slightest input on. He was just being kind, taking the stress out of the situation for her, she reasoned, even though a stubborn voice inside of her insisted it was the kind of high-handed behaviour she detested in a man. Yet she was all on edge now, afraid that she was searching for reasons not to marry him, to throw herself at August instead when good sense would give her every reason to believe Stephen was the right choice.

  She made herself go through all the scandalous stories she had heart about August, the affairs, the gambling, loose women … He’d even been named in a Crim Com, in a salacious scandal where he’d been accused of being Lady Norton’s lover. Was this truly the kind of man she wanted to marry, over a respectable gentleman who had been nothing but kind and courteous to her from the outset? She must be out of her mind to even consider it, and yet she did consider it. She thought of nothing else, and so it was that she almost missed Stephen’s next words.

  “Of course, your step-sister and step-mother will return directly to Bath after the wedding.”

  “What?” Patience replied, startled. “It’s rather a long journey for them to do right after the wedding, perhaps, Stephen.”

  He narrowed his grey eyes at her, amusement in his expression. “A man does not want his mother-in-law in residence on his wedding night, dearest.”

  Patience blushed, and was horrified to discover that the idea of a wedding night with Stephen filled her with dismay. Oh, damn August Bright. Why did he have to ruin everything by giving her false expectations of what life and love could be?

  “Of course, Stephen,” she replied, trying to stop her voice from trembling and hoping he’d believe it was just maidenly nerves putting her all on edge. “I’m sure I’ll see plenty of them after that, of course. It will be so lovely to have them to stay with us.”

  To her alarm, his face darkened further. “Darling girl, if you imagine I’m having people who are not even blood relations staying with us for weeks on end, you are quite wrong. Your step-mother would be bound to try and interfere in our lives and cause difficulties which will only upset you. No, Patience. You may think it hard of me, but I assure you, it is for the best. You are to be a married lady, with your own responsibilities,” he said, puffing up before her eyes with his own self-consequence. “Far better to distance yourself now and avoid any unpleasantness later, I assure you.”

  Patience stared at him in horror, but Stephen just got to his feet. “Now I must be going,” he said, his tone one that sounded all at once rather stuffy and overbearing. “I have much to attend to.”

  “But Stephen,” Patience objected, finally finding her tongue now that the initial shock had worn off. “You cannot go yet. I feel very strongly about what you’ve just said and we need to discuss it.”

  Stephen turned and gave her a look full of reproach and disappointment as he sighed. “Darling, please don’t cause difficulties now. I’m doing all of this for you, after all.”

  “Stephen,” Patience said, again, her tone firm as she recognised his attempt to divert her. “This is not something I will put aside, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too, dearest,” he replied, his voice impatient now, a harder thread beneath it that gave her pause. “But now I must be going. Such things can be discussed further once we are married, then you will see that I was right.” With that, he left the room and Patience with anxiety clawing at her heart.

  ***

  “My God, she’ll kill me,” August said, his voice faint as they went over the plan once again.

  “Can you think of a better idea?” Ben asked, frowning at him and looking rather uneasy himself, which didn’t help matters.

  August shook his head. Somehow he suspected that if he took his evidence to Patience now - gathered from a sweet little petticoat - he’d be thrown out on his ear. Added to that the news that Caro had sent in a scribbled message that they were to leave on Friday for Bristol, and be married there on Saturday morning, and panic was surrounding him on all sides. If he did this, Patience may well never forgive him, but she’d be his wife, at least, and he’d have a lifetime to make it up to her. If he did nothing, however, she’d be married to a brute who would hurt her and make her life a living hell. Getting to his feet, he poured himself a stiff drink, downed it in one large swallow, and turned back to Ben.

  “Let’s get on with it then.”

  ***

  August looked at the waiting carriage, emblazoned with the coat of arms of the Dreighton family, and then stared at Ben in trepidation. “You’re sure your brother won’t mind?” he asked, thinking a more ridiculous statement had never been uttered. Would Ben’s older brother, the notorious prig who was Earl of Dreighton, mind Ben lending his carriage to aid and abet a kidnapper? That really didn’t take a lot of thinking about. Ben, however, just shrugged.

  “With a bit of luck, he’ll suffer an apoplexy,” he said, sounding remarkably sanguine about it. “But don’t worry, he’ll blame me, not you. I took it, after all.”

  August reached out and grasped the man’s hand. “Ben, I can’t thank you enough, truly. I don’t know what to say …”

  Ben, however, just waved his thanks aside. “Think nothing of it,” he said, grinning now. “Annoying my brother is close to being my raison d’etre, so getting his name in the scandal sheets should do the trick.”

  August blanched. “No! I mean, steady on, Ben. The idea is t
o keep the scandal to a minimum. Patience is going to be fit to be tied as it is, without causing a stir like that.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll keep it quiet, and if it does get out, I’ll tell everyone it’s nothing to do with him,” Ben replied, looking thoroughly unconcerned, as well he might. He wasn’t about to kidnap the woman he loved against her will and then endure five days in a closed carriage with her. August had never considered himself a coward where women were concerned, but even he quailed a little at the idea.

  Still, it was too late now. Caro was in on the plan and thought it the most romantic thing that had ever happened in the history of anything, or some such nonsense. August hadn’t been paying much attention. However, she had secretly packed Patience’s belongings, which were safely stowed on the carriage. Now they were waiting for word from Lord Nibley, of all people. How Caro had talked him into being party to such a shocking scheme was beyond August, but then the fellow was stupidly in love with the girl. He’d probably agree to any insanity at this point, no matter how much he disliked it.

  They were all attending a party this evening at a rather grand house on Queen’s Square. The idea was that Caro would persuade Patience to come outside and get some air at around ten o’clock. She was to drag her unsuspecting sister around the corner, where August would bundle her into the carriage and make off with her, whether she liked it or not. Thinking about this part of the plan was enough to make his heart beat in his throat, so August was doing his best to pretend it wasn’t happening.

  He looked up as Ben elbowed him and the tall, gaunt figure of Percy Nibley strode towards them. He glared at them, owl-like behind his spectacles. “Of all the hare-brained, ridiculous schemes,” he began, glowering at August and looking really quite furious.

  “Steady on, old chap,” Ben said, his voice low, grasping Percy’s arm. “You don’t know what we discovered about St John.” By the time Percy had been enlightened, his face was quite pale.

  “G-good God,” he stammered, shaking his head. “I take it back, August,” he said, reaching out to shake August’s hand. “I-it’s heroic, that’s what it is. Especially considering the temper Miss Pearson’s got,” he added, looking thoughtful. “Going to be the very devil of a journey.”

 

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