The strain of it was wearing on both her and August, and it was time to take action. August, she felt, had enough on his hands trying to make changes to the stud farm while his mother did her level best to stop him. Today, however, he had a meeting with the Duke of Sheringham and would be gone until late that evening. Patience hoped that the meeting went well and that the duke could see that he would have to pay the going rate for their services. If August lost the man’s account it would be a severe embarrassment, not only to the stud farm, but to August personally. His blasted mother would never let him live it down, for one thing. That being the case, Patience had decided to take the opportunity to take the house in hand.
Lady Marchmain had gone to Tattersall’s for the auctions as was usual for her, and would also be out all day. Patience had taken every measure she could think of to bring her plan to fruition, and it had taken almost two weeks of hard work and subterfuge on her part. Poor August didn’t know what was going on, but he was preoccupied, too, and she felt it best if the blame for what was coming lay squarely at her door. He’d taken enough blame in his lifetime and, for once, he was going to have someone in his corner. She was determined to protect him from the vile woman who called herself his mother, and her faithful minions who had aided her in making a place that should have been his home into a battle ground.
At ten o’clock precisely, Roachford showed Mr Fairchild into the parlour, a suspicious look in the butler’s eyes that amused Patience no end.
Patience settled the man down and ordered tea, and they spoke about pleasantries until Roachford returned with the tray.
“That will be all, Roachford, thank you,” Patience said with a cool smile as the butler hovered, clearly desperate to know what the lawyer was doing there. Roachford gave a curt nod and removed himself, but Patience raised a finger to her lips before the lawyer could speak. She got up and walked to the door, keeping her footsteps soft. Swinging it open, Roachford gasped and straightened as she discovered him with his ear to the door. “I said, that will be all,” she repeated, her tone harder now as she glared at the man, not bothering to hide her dislike. Once he was gone, she turned back to Mr Fairchild, who grimaced at her.
“Well, there’s grounds for dismissal, for starters,” he said with a grim smile.
Patience nodded. “It’s just as I explained, Mr Fairchild, but I don’t want them all dismissed, only moved on.”
“Along with Lady Marchmain,” the man replied, a rather amused twinkle in his eyes.
Patience grinned at him. She had warmed to the man immediately when she had visited him first, telling August only that she was taking a shopping trip into town. Mr Fairchild was of middling years with more hair on his chin than his head, but he had a no nonsense manner about him that she appreciated. He had immediately perceived the difficulties that both her and August were facing. Lady Marchmain had made her presence felt in the surrounding area, too, as Patience had suspected she would have. The woman was not a popular figure, and she’d found Mr Fairchild - who had been on the receiving end of Lady Marchmain’s sharp tongue himself a time or two - only too willing to help her.
“So, then, here is the lease on the property we spoke of. I believe all of the other arrangements are in place just as we discussed.” He took a moment to look at his watch and nod in satisfaction. “They should be here any moment now, I think.”
Patience let out a sigh of relief and reached out to shake the man’s hand with warmth. “Mr Fairchild, you will never know how grateful I am for everything you have done here.”
Mr Fairchild beamed at her and chuckled, a rich jovial sound that Patience approved of. “Well, it’s not done yet, Lady Marchmain,” he said, and Patience still felt rather odd at being referred to in such a manner. “But with a bit of luck and a following wind, the worst of the upheaval will be over by tonight.”
The sound of carriage wheels rumbling up the driveway brought them to their feet and Patience sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling rather terrified about what she’d done. She could only pray that August wasn’t too angry with her and that he realised she’d done it all for him.
Chapter 26
“Wherein our hero’s heart is a little battered, and a second kidnapping goes off without a hitch.”
August sat back in the carriage as it wound its way back to Finchfields. He should have been feeling more than a little pleased with himself. The meeting with Sheringham had gone far better than he’d anticipated. The duke had turned out to be a fair man and didn’t need to listen to much of what August had said before agreeing upon the new prices. Not that he ought to have, any fool could see he was still getting a good deal. August was being reasonable, rather than greedy, and the duke was no fool, from what he could gather. In fact, he’d rather liked the man. He certainly knew his horses. He’d even agreed to give August an introduction to some other, select members of the ton, with his approval. Such a recommendation was worth its weight in gold, and August well knew it. Yet he couldn’t shake the melancholy that had settled upon his shoulders.
Patience was unhappy.
More than that, she was restless. She had been out of the house more than she was in it of late, and for the past two weeks, he’d become certain she was avoiding him. When they were together, she seemed tired and distracted, and though she assured him nothing was wrong, he didn’t believe her smile of reassurance. The sickening worry that perhaps his mother was right and that things had come to head even faster than she had predicted niggled in his heart like a maggot in an apple and wouldn’t let him be.
His mother, of course, had gone out of her way to make their lives a nightmare. At last, he’d found the courage to stand his ground, to take control of the business and do things the way he’d always wanted to. He would have worked with her if she’d had the slightest willingness at all to do so, but she’d made her feelings plain now and August had had enough. He was taking things in hand as he should have done years previously if his guilt over his father’s death hadn’t held him back. That she blamed him for the death of her husband was something she’d never said aloud, but August felt the weight of it nonetheless. He had always wondered if that was why she punished him so, and he supposed he’d not fought back before because he felt he deserved her wrath. Now, however, she was hurting Patience, and that he could not accept.
Before his meeting with Sheringham that morning, he had visited the family lawyers and arranged for his mother to have a monthly allowance, as he had once been given. No more, however, could she draw on their finances with impunity. Perhaps he was not the man his father had been, but Patience had given him enough belief in himself to realise that he perhaps wasn’t the fool his mother had made him out to be.
Of course, the family lawyers had also been led to believe he was a man not to be trusted with money, and had looked askance at his instructions. But at the end of the day, he was Lord Marchmain and they worked for him, so they had done as he’d bid. He only hoped that in time, they would realise the stories about him, whilst true enough, were not the whole picture. He hoped one day such men might treat him with a little more respect, and not simply because of his title, but he realised that respect had to be earned, and it would take time.
As the carriage rolled over the grand entrance to Finchfields, he decided that he would not run away from his problems as he always had in the past. It was time to be a man, and that meant he needed to talk to Patience. Somehow he had to persuade her to stay, to give him the chance to make her happy. He knew that his mother had to go, and though he did not relish the coming scene, he would remove her from the house by carrying her over his bloody shoulder if it came to it. She had a sister in Kent and he would force her to go and stay there until suitable accommodation could be made for her. Preferably far away from him. In fact, John O’Groats had a nice ring to it, he thought with a snort of amusement. August sighed, pleased with his decision. Enough was enough, and he would not let her destroy his marriage as she’d destroyed the rest of hi
s life.
Once the carriage had rolled to a halt, August leapt down and hurried to the house, eager to tell Patience of his plans, and then stopped in his tracks as a tall man with a long face and neat black hair opened the door to him.
“Good evening, Lord Marchmain,” he said, smiling as though he was actually pleased to see him.
“Who the devil are you?” August exclaimed in shock, wondering where the fellow had sprung from. “Where’s Roachford?”
The man’s face furrowed a little, but he bowed his head. “I am MacTavish, my lord, your new butler. I’m afraid I cannot tell you where Mr Roachford may be, but he left some hours ago.”
“Did he, now?” August replied, noting the man’s Scottish accent and looking him over. He scratched his head, rather at a loss at what to say now. “I say, you’re Scottish, what’s John O’Groats like?” he demanded, wondering how the fellow would take such a question. MacTavish didn’t even blink.
“Windy, my lord,” he replied, deadpan.
August gave a bark of laughter and clapped the man on the shoulder. “Excellent,” he said, pleased and amused. “I like you, MacTavish,” he added, heading into the house. “Oh, where’s my wife, by the way?”
“I believe you will find her in the parlour, my lord.”
August nodded his thanks and then ground to a halt for a second time as an unfamiliar maid exited the parlour before him, pausing to dip a curtsey and then hurrying down to the kitchens. Frowning, August wondered what on earth was going on, but carried on his way. As promised, he found Patience in the parlour. She was standing by the fire, white faced and obviously anxious as she was wringing her hands together in a most uncharacteristic fashion. His heart dropped as he remembered exactly why he’d needed to speak with her.
“Hello, love,” he said, feeling hesitant all at once.
“Hello, August,” she replied, her hazel eyes watchful. “Did your meeting go well?”
August nodded, a sick, twisting sensation in his stomach as he realised she was trying to get up the nerve to tell him something. No. No, please. Surely not. Not yet?
“Yes, very well,” he replied, wondering how she’d go about it. Would she make excuses, it’s me, not you, or would she just go for a clean break? Not that she could go anywhere if he wanted her to stay, she was his wife, after all, but the thought of forcing her to be with him …
“August, whatever is the matter? You’ve gone as white as a sheet.”
August shook his head and tried to smile. “Nothing, love,” he said, his voice quiet. “Just … just a long day.”
“Oh,” she said, twisting her wedding band round and around her finger in a manner than did nothing to soothe his nerves. “I … I was hoping to speak to you. There’s … something I need to say.”
August nodded, knowing he couldn’t escape it. He would just have to try and do everything to change her mind. If he could get her into bed, he might stand a chance after all. There, at least, was something he was good at.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Patience pressed, frowning at him as he sat down. “You’re awfully quiet.”
August nodded again. “I’m fine. Go on, then, you’d … best get it over with.”
He watched, his heart thudding in his throat as she took a deep breath. “Well, the thing is, August… I’ve taken a lease on a house in Saffron Walden, and of course, you’ll have seen MacTavish. I-I’m afraid I’ve been making plans and I’ve made some decisions about the future. I’m sorry, August but … but I had to do something.”
August felt his heart contract. It was worse than he’d thought. She was all ready to move out. “I see,” he said, hearing the words as though they’d come from far away. He put his head in his hands and then looked up as Patience crouched at his feet.
“Are you very angry with me?” she asked, looking up at him with big anxious eyes.
“Angry?” he repeated, frowning. “How could I be angry? I’m just … so sorry, love.” He reached out and took her hands, pulling them towards him and holding them tight. “Only, won’t you give me another chance? Please, love,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady even though his heart was breaking. “I’m going to tell mother to leave in morning. I’m going to send her to her sister’s house. I’ve already stopped her ability to draw funds and I’m going to get her out of our lives, Patience. Only please let me try again.”
“What?” Patience stared at him, utterly bewildered. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, as August blinked at her.
“I … I’m asking you not to leave me,” he said, feeling a little confused himself now.
“Leave you?” Patience stared at him, so incredulous that his heart leapt with hope. “Why would I leave you? August, you’re not making the least bit of sense.”
August sucked in a breath as her words filtered through his anxiety and he felt he could breathe again. “Well, to be fair, love, neither are you,” he said, grinning at her with a surge of relief as he pulled her from the floor and into his lap and kissed her. For a moment, he managed to divert her, pleased and relieved beyond measure by the way she melted into his arms and gave a little sigh of content as he released her.
“Oh,” she sighed with feeling, the sound huffed against his neck as she cuddled into him. “I needed that.”
“Me, too,” he said, looking down at her and thanking God that she was foolish enough to want to stick it out. “Shall we start over?” he asked, smiling at her now that his heart had realised it wasn’t about to be crushed and could beat normally again.
Patience nodded at him.
“I’ll go first, then,” he said, pulling her closer as he sat back in the chair. “Who is this MacTavish fellow, and that girl that was in here with you, and where is Roachford?”
“Well, that’s what I was trying to tell you,” she exclaimed, looking a little impatient now. “I’ve replaced all of your mother’s staff and sent them to the house in Saffron Walden. It’s her house now,” she said, looking a little sheepish. “I do hope you’re not too cross with me,” she added, returning to twisting her fingers together. “But I simply couldn’t stand another day of her. The way she spoke to you, August, it … it was just plain wicked. I would have killed her before the week was out,” she added, looking so utterly sincere that August laughed, quite astonished.
“You mean to say that’s what you’ve been doing these past weeks?” he demanded, torn between amusement, admiration, and no little anger.
Patience swallowed and nodded. “I-It took forever, you see,” she said, glancing at him and away again. “Interviewing all of the staff, making arrangements for your mother’s belongings to be moved, finding the house and arranging the lease. My word, I had no idea of the work involved in finding good staff,” she added, shaking her head. “But I must say, I think I did rather well.” August gaped at her as she looked a trifle defensive now.
“And where is my mother?” He hardly dared ask, but he didn’t see how she’d gotten the woman out of the house without a fight.
“W-well,” she stammered, still avoiding his eyes. “I sort of took a leaf out of your book and … and kidnapped her. I had the carriage pick her up from Tattersall’s and take her straight to the house in Saffron Walden.” Patience swallowed and looked up at him. “She should be there by now,” she added in a small voice.
“Good God,” August said, his voice faint as he stared at the evil genius that was his wife. He was full of admiration for her, but he was damned if he was going to tell her that just yet. Instead, he picked her up and put her down on the chair again, none too gently, as he stood, staring at the fire in silence. He glanced back at her, seeing the trepidation in her eyes and bloody glad of it. The wretch. After all she’d put him through.
“A-are you very angry, August?” she asked after a few more moments of stony silence.
“Angry?” he demanded, his voice rather incredulous. “I should say I’m bloody angry.”
“B-but I did it for you, for
us,” she said, blinking back tears that didn’t soften him up one bit.
“And all this time, these past weeks, you’ve been plotting this?” he demanded, wondering when he’d ever been so bloody furious in his life before.
Patience nodded, staring at him in silence until she found the courage to reply. “Yes, August.” A fat tear slid down her face. “I just couldn’t bear to see her hurting you anymore. She doesn’t deserve to have a son like you, you see, and it hurt me when I saw how unhappy she made you. I can’t stand to see you unhappy. It breaks my heart.” She sniffed, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand now as they began to fall in earnest. “I know I ought not to have done it, but I had to. I just had to, can’t you see that?”
August sucked in a breath as his anger fled, dissipating in the face of such love and concern for him. He got to his knees and took her hands.
“Patience, love. I’m proud of you for what you’ve done. Proud and grateful and … well, bloody amazed, truth be told. But, damn you, you lied to me!” He shook his head at her. “After the way you berated me for not telling you the truth, for not telling you about St John and forcing you to elope with me … and you do this?” Patience blinked, dawning horror in her eyes as she realised. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?” he demanded, wanting to shake the woman as badly as he wanted to kiss her tears away. “I thought you were leaving me! I thought you were bored and unhappy and avoiding me.”
“Oh, August!” she exclaimed, looking really rather cross herself now. “How can you be so nonsensical? When will you realise that I would never do that, I love you, can’t you believe that by now? Leaving you, indeed? As if I such a thing were even possible.”
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