She looked so indignant and disgusted by the idea that August finally felt the tension in his shoulders release. He laughed and shook his head, leaning in to kiss her.
“What a ridiculous pair we are,” he murmured as she leaned her forehead against his. “No more secrets, love. Promise me.”
Patience nodded, giving him a rueful smile. “I promise.”
August sighed, realising that his home was finally that, his home, their home. “Do you think she’ll stay there?” he asked, doubtful that such a thing could be achieved.
Patience nodded. “I had my lawyer draw up a letter, explaining things in legal terms and … well, implying that there would be consequences if she tried to interfere again.”
“You threatened her?” August said, raising his eyebrows. “What with?”
Patience cleared her throat, looking a little shifty. “I know you said no secrets, August, but …”
August held up his hand and nodded. “Fair enough, on this occasion, I think I’m happier not knowing. As long as it works.” He kissed her hand as she beamed at him. “How far is Saffron Walden from here, anyway?”
“A little over two hours,” she replied with a grin.
“Hmmm, I’d been considering John O’Groats,” he said, pursing his lips as Patience frowned at him. “It’s as far north as you can get,” he added for her benefit. “In Scotland.”
“August, I know where it is, but why …” But August decided this subject had been discussed quite enough for one day and silenced her with a kiss. Patience sighed and wound her arms around his neck as he slid one hand up the inside of her leg, using his other to tug her to the edge of the seat.
“Now then, wife,” he murmured as her cheeks flushed the most delightful shade of pink. “I think it’s time you made up to me for leaving me out in the cold for so long, don’t you?”
Patience gasped as his fingers glided past her thigh, to caress her rather more intimately. “Yes, August,” she agreed, nodding and casting a doubtful glance at the door. “But the staff, won’t they hear …”
“The staff work for us, love,” August replied, his voice firm. “So they’d damn well better get used to it.”
Chapter 27
“Wherein August stands tall.”
“August, do hurry up!” Patience said, rolling her eyes at her husband and receiving a reproving look from his new valet. Peterson was a godsend as far as August was concerned. Patience was less convinced. Though she would certainly not go so far as to say her husband was a vain man, he certainly needed no encouragement to fuss over his wardrobe. Peterson, however, regarded him with something close to reverence, and would not let him leave the house looking anything less that impeccable. Not that he ever did. Now her handsome man stood before the full length mirror, his face a mask of concentration as he tied his cravat. It was the one thing that he refused to allow Peterson to do for him. Far from being offended, his valet was watching proceedings with the air of someone staring at a work of art.
Patience huffed with frustration, earning herself a soft tut of disapproval from Peterson.
“Don’t distract me now, love,” August muttered, not looking away from his reflection. “This is the tricky bit.”
“Good grief,” Patience muttered, but gave up waiting and headed for the door. “Well, don’t complain to me if we reach Oxford too late for dinner,” she retorted as she left him alone and headed downstairs. Shaking her head with amusement, she found MacTavish waiting for her.
“Everything is packed and ready to go, my lady,” he said, smiling at her. “Peterson and Miss Smith will be following on, of course, and you can rest assured the instructions you left will be carried out in your absence.”
“You’re a wonder, MacTavish,” Patience replied, feeling a surge of relief at having found the man. He’d fitted into the household like a hand in a glove, arranging everything with a quiet air of assurance, never raising his voice, and only reporting to her. When she had interviewed him, he had told her in no uncertain terms that he loathed gossip and would not stand for it, and Patience had seen the sincerity in his eyes. Combined with a rather dry sense of humour, she had liked him instantly and hired him on the spot. She congratulated herself that it had been an excellent day’s work.
Patience went to sit in the parlour to wait until August had finished preening, and felt a little shiver of anxiety about what was to come. Caro and Percy were getting married and they were going to the wedding. Of course, Patience was delighted and excited to be there for her sister’s big day, but she was also a little anxious at being in Bath again. The gossip about her and August was still going strong, not least as her ex-fiancé had died in mysterious circumstances. August had managed to get the details hushed up, but such an event could not be completely brushed under the carpet. Rumours of duels abounded and she knew August was feeling a little jittery himself, much as he refused to admit it. Hence the fuss over his appearance. Still, they had another night before they had to face the ton, as they would break the journey in Oxford. For her part, Patience had to admit to a little thrill of anticipation at being seen on the arm of her handsome husband. She could only grin as she considered the green envy that she would no doubt see on the faces of women far more glamorous that she was. The idea that they may speak ill of August, however … that was not as easy for her to accept.
She looked up, broken from her thoughts as a knock on the door sounded and MacTavish came in, his expression grave.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but Lady Marchmain is at the door, and she insists on seeing his lordship.”
Patience gave a sigh of impatience and wished August’s valet to the devil. If he hadn’t encouraged her husband to preen, they could have left by now. Damn the wretched woman. Though it had been too much to hope that Patience would get away with her plans with no reprisals. She’d been holding her breath for the past two days, ever since she’d unceremoniously packed up all of the woman’s belongings and moved her out of the house. She may as well get it over with.
“Thank you, MacTavish. There is no need to disturb Lord Marchmain. I will deal with this.”
“Would you like me to accompany you?” he asked, concern in his eyes as Patience smiled. Though he’d not had first-hand experience of Lady Marchmain, Patience had been quite forthcoming about circumstances at Finchfields Manor before her intervention. She’d given him strict instructions that Lady Marchmain was never again to set foot in the house, and she’d meant it. MacTavish had taken her words as gospel.
“No, thank you, but … but perhaps you would remain close to the door. I will call you if I require assistance.”
MacTavish nodded his understanding and opened the front door for her. Patience took a deep breath before she stepped out and walked towards her mother-in-law.
The woman turned towards her at the sound of the door opening, anger flashing in her eyes as she saw Patience and not August.
“So, he’s still too spineless to face me, I see,” she said, sneering at Patience as she made her way down the path to where the woman waited.
“August does not know you are here,” Patience replied, wondering if she could get through this without doing the woman an injury. “I’ll not have you making him miserable for no reason. Say what you came to say and then leave. You are no longer welcome here.”
“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” Lady Marchmain said, bitterness glinting in her eyes. “Well, you may have taken everything from me, but don’t think you’ve won. You’ll be replaced soon enough, by a mistress if not by a wife.”
“Oh?” Patience replied, clenching her fists as the woman pricked at fears she thought she’d buried. “I thought I was going to grow bored of August before six months was up? I do wish you’d make up your mind.” She saw a glimmer of shock in the woman’s eyes that August had told her what had been said and laughed. “Yes, he told me, and I shall tell him what was said here, once you’ve gone. We have no secrets, you see.”
“Y
ou may regret that fact when he confesses he’s been unfaithful,” the woman retorted, but this time her words washed over Patience. She wouldn’t let this vile creature get under her skin. She was bitter and angry and striking out, and Patience would not give her the satisfaction of being hurt by her words. August loved her, she believed that now, and as extraordinary as it might be, she did believe he would be faithful to her. She would not allow his mother’s cruel words to shake that belief. Looking at the woman now, she could only see the shell of an embittered creature, eaten away by hatred. The woman looked ill, gaunt, and frail, and Patience could only pity her.
“My only regrets are for you, Lady Marchmain,” Patience said, only realising how true the words were as she said them. “You’re alone in the world now. You’ll not see your son, or any children we may have. To my knowledge, you have no friends, no one who cares for you. You’re a lonely and bitter old woman and I’m sorry for you.”
For a moment, Patience regretted the starkness of her words as a flash of hurt showed in the woman’s green eyes. But that hurt morphed into recrimination in the blink of an eye and Lady Marchmain’s face twisted into something feral and ugly. “And whose fault is that?” she demanded, her voice shrill and angry. “My life was perfect until the day he was born. I never wanted children, but my husband insisted that we had an heir to carry on the name. Thank God, the first one was a boy and I didn’t have to do it again, but it didn’t matter. His father was besotted with him from the first. It was August he took everywhere after that, August that lit his face up, not me, August who was the apple of his eye. He stole my husband from me, and then he killed him with that bloody horse!”
Patience gaped at the woman, astonished by her outburst. “My God,” she said, hardly believing her ears. “You were jealous of your own son?”
“Yes!” she replied. “And why not? He killed his father as sure as he put a gun to his head.”
“What utter nonsense.” The words were furious and Lady Marchmain actually took a step back in the face of her anger. “He was a little boy. Do you mean to tell me that his father was so devoid of common sense that he would have spent a large sum of money on a horse he knew he could do nothing with? You’re just looking for reasons to justify something that makes no sense, and you know it. You wanted someone to blame and your son already bore the weight of your jealousy, why not your loss, too? You made him your scapegoat because you could, because he was too young to fight back, and you’ve been punishing and using his guilt against him ever since. You’re a wicked and hateful old woman and I never wish to see you again.”
Lady Marchmain’s face was cold and hard, but to her dismay, Patience realised that she was no longer looking at her. Patience turned and saw August standing by the front door. His face was devoid of emotion, but it was clear that he’d heard what had been said.
Lady Marchmain put up her chin, her eyes glinting with defiance and malice. “You took my husband away from me, and then you killed him.” She waited, the callous glint of satisfaction in her eyes as she waited for August to react to her words.
Patience watched with her heart in her throat as August walked down the steps toward his mother. He moved past her, gripping her arm and dragging her towards her carriage. Opening the door, he steered her towards it.
“Goodbye, Mother,” he said, his tone flat. She stared back at him, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. When she didn’t move, August looked back at her. “I suggest you get in by yourself, or I will put you in, and I suspect you won’t like the manner in which I do it.”
Patience watched his mother glower at him, glancing between her and August and then climbing in, head held high.
“I suggest you don’t come back,” August said, the words hard now and more angry than Patience had ever heard them. “I might not be responsible for my actions if you dare.” He slammed the door shut the moment she was inside, and they both watched as the carriage moved away. Once it was out of sight, Patience moved forward, taking August’s hand, her heart breaking for him.
“I’m so sorry, August,” she said, leaning into him and wishing there was something she could do or say to stop his mother’s words hurting him so.
August shrugged though, shaking his head. “I’m not. It at least makes sense to me now. I always wondered if I’d done something wrong, said something to make her hate me, but now I can see that it really wasn’t my fault.” He turned to her then, putting a hand to her cheek. “How can a mother be jealous of her own son?” he asked, looking bewildered. Patience shook her head, not understanding it any more than he did.
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” she said, turning her face into hand and kissing the palm as she covered it with her own hand. “If I had your son, I would be overjoyed, August. Truly, I can’t think of anything more wonderful.”
He beamed at her then, all sorrow vanished from his eyes at her words. “Well, then,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “There’s an ambition I have every intention of getting behind.”
Patience chuckled, and then gave an indignant squeal as a hand groped her behind. “Pack that in,” she said, trying to sound severe and failing. “For heaven’s sake, we must leave now. We’re going to be late as it is.”
“Come along, then,” August said, tugging at her hand and making her exclaim again as he pulled her along at speed to their own waiting carriage before flashing her a wicked grin. “I’m quite certain I can make a start enroute, after all …”
***
“August, stop it!” Patience protested, though in August’s opinion it was a half-hearted attempt at best. “We’ll be at the inn soon,” she added, trying and failing to divert his questing hands. “Haven’t you had enough?”
“I refuse to believe such a state possible.” August chuckled, wondering if his innocent little wife had the slightest clue of what she did to him. Though she was a lot less innocent since she’d married him, he thought with a smug grin. There was a lot to be said for making love in a carriage after all, the rocking motion was really very rewarding. To be fair, it hadn’t been long since he’d helped her return her dress to rights and tidied her hair, but something devilish in him was more than eager to rumple things all over again. She was just so deliciously eager, despite her protests, which he didn’t believe for a moment. He’d discovered that the young woman he’d first believed to be a prim and cold and a stickler for propriety was really a rather wanton creature given the right circumstances. His theory was born out as he tugged at the neckline of her dress and lost no time in applying his mouth to the sweetly puckered nipple that he’d revealed. The sigh she made was decadent and only spurred him on as one hand tangled in his hair, drawing him closer rather than pushing him away.
August lifted his head, looking at his wife, who was flushed and dark-eyed with need, just the way he liked her best. “I shall have to punish you, you know,” he said, his tone teasing as she lifted an eyebrow at him.
“What on earth for?” she demanded, as indignant as she could manage, bearing in mind her rather compromised position.
“For telling me fibs,” he said, with as straight a face as he could manage. “You make out like it’s me misbehaving, that you are the model of propriety and don’t want me to be so wicked, and just look at you …”
Patience snorted, a terribly unladylike sound that August adored all the same. “You have me there,” she said, shaking her head with a mournful expression. “You’ve ruined me, August Bright, and I shall never be the same again.”
“I should think not,” August muttered, pleased, before applying himself with enthusiasm to the job at hand.
Epilogue
“Wherein a wedding, a deal of gossip, and a happy ever after.”
“Buck up, Percy, you’re getting married, not shot,” August said, shaking his head as Ben Lancaster smothered a bark of laughter.
“Amounts to the same thing, if you ask me,” Ben muttered from his position on the pew beside him as August rolled his eyes at hi
m. He couldn’t fathom why the fellow was so dead set against marrying. Just look at him. If he wasn’t a positive example of marital bliss, then he’d like to see a better one.
“Shouldn’t she b-be here by now?” Percy demanded for at least the tenth time in as many minutes as he got to his feet and began to pace again.
August sighed and checked his pocket watch, again. “No, Percy, it’s still early yet. Do stop fretting. The bloody vicar isn’t even here yet.”
“You’ve got the ring?” the fellow asked, looming over August like a nervous stick-insect.
“I’ve shown you the blasted ring twice already,” August exclaimed, shaking his head in despair. “Get a grip, man.”
Percy swallowed and removed his spectacles, cleaning each lens with care before wiping his brow and putting them back on. “S-still can’t believe she said yes,” he admitted, casting August a look filled with apprehension. “Can’t help thinking she m-might change her mind.”
“Why on earth would she change her mind?” August demanded, ignoring the sceptical look than Ben was casting him. “You’re a fine fellow, Percy, and Caro’s no fool. She can see that, believe me. She’ll be here, so stop making a cake of yourself, and for heaven’s sake, sit down and stop pacing, you’re giving me a crick in my neck.”
Percy let out a sigh of relief and sat down again.
“Thank you, August,” he said, his voice quiet and sincere.
August shook his head, serious now. “No need, old fellow,” he said, turning back to Percy. “It’s me who should be thanking you, truth be told. Don’t know what might have become of me if I’d not found Patience and … well, you made me fight for her. So, thank you.”
“I did?” Percy replied, sitting up a little straighter and looking as surprised as he was impressed. “Well, bless me. If I did, I’m glad, though I’m damned if I know how.”
Ben groaned beside them. “For the love of God, pack it in, you two. I’m going to retch if I have to endure any more of this bonhomie.”
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