by Kit Donner
In the first cell lay Rupert, wide-awake. The jealous moon had finally managed to peek beneath the overshadowing clouds, illuminating Rupert’s tiny cell.
Patience flung back her hood and whispered, “Rupert.” Her heart was alight at seeing her dearest sibling, but worry still consumed her.
Her brother leapt to his feet from his position on the cold stone floor and rushed to the metal bars. “Patience! What are you doing here? How did you flummox the guard to let you in?” his voice loud in surprise.
Patience put a finger to her lips in warning. “The constable is watching naught in his deep slumber. I slipped past him for I had to see you and find how you are faring. I just learned this morning of your dilemma. How did they catch you?”
Rupert shook his head in disgust. “I was in the woods last night with my friends during the false reports of invasion. They decided to try and rob a few of the folk fleeing to Winchelsea. I had no idea of the plan. We were to go to the coast to scout wrecks. What rotten luck!” He hit the bar with an open palm.
“These are the same men who have taken you in?” Patience asked falteringly, afraid of the answer.
“Yes, they have asked no questions about why I prefer not to be seen in the daylight and given me a place to lay my head at night. One of them calls himself the General and the silent chap is called Bear. Why?”
Patience closed her eyes briefly. “Because they stopped me upon the road to Winchelsea.”
Her brother’s sunken cheeks hollowed even deeper with his pain. “We became separated when I finally caught up to them, the constable’s men not far behind. I can’t seem to convince anyone that I had nothing to do with any robbery, but since I am wanted for the murder of our cousin, my words mean less than a preacher without a sinner.”
Bitterness came over Patience. “It is all Lord Londringham’s doing. He had you arrested, he…”
“Wait, Patience. He was here, this morning to see me. He wants to help. His lordship does not believe that I killed Carstairs. Says he suspects a Frenchman. I told him everything I knew about that night. He’s the first person that has listened to my story. I gave him the silver buckle I found outside the French doors at Carstairs’s estate. Lord Londringham thinks it might lead to something.”
Patience stared at her brother in amazement, her mouth dropped in her lap. “Lord Londringham wants to help you?” she asked in an unrecognizable squeaky voice.
“Yes, and unfortunately, he thinks I might be safer in here, especially if the real murderer suspects I have evidence of his guilt. But he thought it wouldn’t be too long before the constable would allow me to stay at Lord Londringham’s home, while he clears up this fiasco.” Rupert’s bright smile did nothing to hide his despair.
Patience bent her head to rest on the cell bars, her tired brain trying to assimilate what Rupert had said. Bryce was actually trying to help them. Her heart and mood lightened, dispelling the gloom of her brother’s cell.
“Did he give you any indication of how long you might be in here?” she queried, almost fearing to hope this nightmare would soon be at an end.
He shook his head with a twist to his lips. “No idea. But at least it’s a place where I can rest and no longer have to hide.”
She looked at her little brother and patted his arm. “Rupert, I will speak to Lord Londringham to see if we can move you soon to Paddock Green, where you will be more comfortable. Together we will get you out of here.”
“Yes, but his lordship still faces the task of clearing my involvement with the robbery during the false alarm. I’m not sure how he will do it.”
Determined to be cheerful about the best news she had heard in weeks, Patience encouraged her brother. “Don’t despair, little brother. His lordship will fix everything. I know.”
Rupert suddenly looked to his right, alert at a strange sound. “Patience, you must get out of here. It’s not safe. Did you come all the way to the village by yourself?”
At her quick nod, he frowned. “It’s much too dangerous. There are all sorts of outlaws on the road. You must promise me never to put yourself in such precarious circumstances again.”
She smiled. “I think it is you we need to worry about. I can take care of myself,” she told him assuredly, remembering the fireplace tongs she had hidden in the gig for protection.
“Have a care, and don’t come again at night, unless his lordship is with you.”
“Yes, master,” she said teasingly. “Oh, and here is a piece of plum cake that I stole from the cook. I wasn’t confident they would feed you well.”
Rupert hungrily seized the package to smell the contents. “Actually his lordship gave the guard an extra bob to see I was well fed.”
Another prisoner called to Rupert. “Is that a woman’s voice, boy? Send ’er down here when ye’ve finished with ’er,” the disembodied voice sneered.
“You’re not fit to touch her shoe, you jackanapes,” he returned.
“Sh…Rupert, I must leave before your yelling awakes the guard. Take care, dear brother. We’ll be home soon.” Then she was gone into the night she knew so well, her hood again covering a face warm from the memory of her beloved brother.
Having retrieved Calliope and the gig from the inn, Patience started her journey home, anxious to see Bryce and reveal her identity to him, and perhaps more. The rain was a missing guest and the wind had died down, leaving the forest’s home feeling friendlier and safer.
She felt so happy she decided to hum, confident that all would be well. But her song whispered away as she tried to think how to tell Bryce about her brother and how to address the bigger question: why had she maintained this subterfuge? The answer to that was not quite clear in her mind.
Over a particularly hard bump, a muttered oath broke into her musings. Halting the little mare, Patience turned around and swept back the blanket to discover Lem, smiling brightly at her.
“Lem, what are you doing here? You should be home in bed,” she admonished the little fellow, trying to appear displeased at his presence.
Lem climbed over the seat to sit beside her. “After last night, I couldn’t let ye go off to the village without protection. Remember, I’m a soldier on a mission to provide safe escort home for a lady,” he told her with a proud smile.
After such a pretty speech, Patience couldn’t stay angry with him. She hugged him with a free hand and whispered, “I’m glad to see you.”
They continued on, Patience hurrying Calliope as fast as the small horse would go. The moon’s light led them down the village road when suddenly a huge black horse jumped in front of their gig, scaring the little mare and the carriage’s occupants. It took several minutes to calm down the horse.
Patience couldn’t determine the rider’s identity and hoped it might be Bryce out for a midnight ride. But given Lem’s frantic grip on her arm, that didn’t appear likely.
“Well, isn’t this a charming scene? I’ve been awaiting an opportunity to gain my revenge, and you’ve so kindly provided me with one.”
She thought she recognized the voice, peering into the dark at the man. “Mr. Gibbs?”
“Yes, it is I. Mr. Gibbs, who has spent the last several days with plans to finish your punishment that I never quite started before his lordship interrupted me. And the same for you, little boy,” he cooed in a nasally voice to the terrified boy, shaking beside Patience.
“Let me pass, you monster. I will report you to the constable if you lay a hand on myself or Lem,” Patience commanded him, her eyes narrowed in bravado. He will not hurt Lem, not as long as I am alive.
A thin, shrill voice came from the left of the carriage. “Mr. Gibbs, ye said I was to have the girl, ye only wanted the boy.”
“Shut up, old man, I owe her a few bruises first, then you can have her.”
Patience fumbled in the back of the gig for her fireplace tongs and held them up to Mr. Gibbs as he reined in his jittery horse. “If you come near here, I shall brain you with this,” she roared, in
protection of her cub.
“What a little grappler you are. Quit wasting my time. Get down from the carriage now.” To make his point clear, Mr. Gibbs drew a revolver from his cloak and pointed it at Patience’s heart.
She hesitated. She had nothing to use against his firearm.
Again he issued an order, not a very patient man. “Now, young woman.”
The shot came from nowhere, knocking the revolver from Mr. Gibbs’s grasp, which caused him to squeal in agony. Blood spurted from his wound in a water rush. Pounding hooves from behind their carriage in the opposite direction signaled the escape of his associate.
Mr. Gibbs pulled a smaller pistol from his chest pocket, aimed at his assailant and fired. Not waiting to see if he hit his target, he pulled his mount around and spun off into the forest’s dark embrace.
The past few minutes had passed so quickly, Patience was afraid to move. Was it another highwayman, intent on harming them? Or was it a friend?
His voice came from the side of the carriage. “Hurry home, you should not be out at this time of night without a proper escort.”
She grasped the reins in her hands and took deep breaths to slow her racing heart. “May…May I know the name of our champion to thank him properly?”
“You may thank me later,” he told her, before he too left them on the deserted road to home. But she knew their defender would see that they made it home safely.
Bryce rested Defiance in the nightshade of the trees, looking for the gig soon to follow him. Damn, that had been close! If he had been a second late, Patience might—he dashed those thoughts from his mind, realizing that saving Patience from various perils occupied more of his time than he had realized and that perhaps next time he might not be so fortunate.
Mr. Gibbs. He should have known the man wouldn’t simply disappear. He would have to guard both Patience and Lem from now on, until the constable’s men had a chance to track down the culprit. He wouldn’t let Patience out of his sight, a duty made bittersweet.
He had decided not to reveal his identity at the carriage. It was most important that Patience come to him with her confession rather than him questioning her on the open road. She would be bound to give him more lies.
What had she been doing in the prison? Perhaps one of the guards could tell him whom she had seen. He was suddenly very resentful of this unknown man who had beget such loyalty in Patience that she would risk her own life and Lem’s to see him. And what kind of ogre did she think he was? She had only to ask him for a favor, and he would be hard-pressed to refuse her lovely entreaties, framed in rosy cheeks with full pink lips and a quivering tongue that he longed to explore.
The gig rattled past him, awakening him from his errant thoughts.
In the morning, the longcase clock tick-tocking in the hallway deafened the still silence in the study. Bryce deliberated by the fireplace, his arm hung over the marble mantel, as he gazed down into the banked embers as if they would spell answers. Although the parlormaid had opened the shutters earlier in the morning, the grayness outside haunted the room with a misty sadness.
He waited for her. Patience. His appointment with the prison guard had provided some insight. Although the man had not noticed a woman slipping into the building, he did detect small mud prints outside Rupert Mandeley’s cell this morning, and another prisoner mentioned as how he had overheard voices near Mandeley’s cell. But the young man himself was reluctant to tell him anything.
What was she doing in the prison visiting Mandeley? Why were her movements furtive if she was innocent of any wrongdoing? And, blast it all, why didn’t she confide in him? Nothing made sense, but that he knew he had to get her away from here.
She would be safer with him in Town. Safer from Mr. Gibbs. Safer perhaps from the French spies he was confident still hid along the coast. He refused to acknowledge his other purpose was to remove Patience far from this Rupert Mandeley, scoffing at any green thoughts. If they were not lovers, then what was the connection between Patience, Mandeley, and Sansouche? Or was there? If only she would provide some answers. Bryce pounded his fist on the mantel.
Yes, he acknowledged silently, given Patience’s actions so far, he would need to keep a close watch on her in Town while he met with his compatriots. Everything would be perfect between them—if there was not the little matter of distrust between them.
“My lord, you sent for me?” Her husky voice floated across the room, mixed with the scent of lavender. Bryce spun around to be confronted by a demure picture of Patience in a plain gray gown, her remembered thick dark hair swept neatly behind her. For someone who had quite a full night’s activities, Bryce noted she looked so refreshed and guiltless that Admiral Nelson himself would divulge his battle secrets at her slightest honeyed gaze.
Patience broke into his musings with a shy smile. “My lord?”
A smile which lit the room from where he stood. He gestured toward a nearby chair and watched as she sank gracefully onto its upholstered seat.
Bryce relaxed against the mantel while he studied her before beginning. I wonder if she knows she has been caught. What will she reveal to me? “I mentioned a few days past that I will be journeying to my town house in London with some of my staff. I will still have need of your services there and request you accompany me.”
Her reaction was unanticipated. Patience’s face turned slightly ashen as she wet her lips nervously. Bryce thought he detected a shine of tears in her green eyes before she looked away. What the devil! Did this Rupert Mandeley mean so much to her that she couldn’t bear to leave him? Who was this man that earned her loyalty and her heart? Bryce pondered in frustration. Would that he could ever know such steadfastness in any woman.
“Is this not to your liking? Most of my staff usually enjoys the change,” Bryce mentioned, trying to ease what seemed like a painful blow.
When she returned her gaze to him, her face was composed, all anxiety neatly hidden from him behind her paper mask of duty. “I’m only surprised. I wasn’t expecting the change. Yes, of course, I’ll go with you,” she said falteringly.
“Patience, you know me well enough that I wouldn’t force you to attend me. But for many reasons that I cannot divulge at this time, I think it best that you make preparations for Town. And you need not wear the cap and spectacles any longer. You will be safe from discovery by your brother with me.”
She nodded her acceptance, then retired from the room with Bryce staring after her. He returned his gaze to the fire, disappointment pumping through his veins. She didn’t want to go with him and wanted to stay behind. Since it was his utmost desire not to be separated from her, what persuasion could he offer rather than making it a command that she accompany him?
Bryce now found himself arming his wits for battle with this young woman who had proven many a time to be as distrustful as any of her species. Perhaps his wound had affected more than his leg. His senses, indeed. But surely not his heart.
Patience walked slowly toward the kitchen, trying to collect her scattered thoughts that continued to butterfly around in her head. She was traveling to Town. This was good, she would be with Bryce. This was bad, she was leaving Rupert behind. This was good, she could ask Bryce to go with her to the high court to see about releasing Rupert. This was bad, she had lost her heart to a man who would never allow anyone to look into the window of his soul. To a man that needed no one.
Patience set her chin in determination. By the time she was through with him, Bryce would need her. Would not be able to live without her. How she planned to accomplish this, she hadn’t the slightest notion.
Chapter 17
Patience breathed in the warm sunshine after yesterday’s moody drizzling rain. No thunderstorms either. She had spent a good part of yesterday packing her trunk as well as assisting in packing the rest of the house for supplies needed in Town. The household appeared in a state of confusion as the servants hurried to ready their belongings and house necessities.
Later that ev
ening in the study, she had hoped to speak with Bryce about Rupert, but she hadn’t caught sight of him all day, and now she was out of time.
Very early the next morning, Patience stepped into his lordship’s carriage. The coat of arms sparkled like gold dewdrops in the sun, its black surface glossied and polished, shining bright enough for reflections. Lucky looked resplendent in his navy-and-gold livery, as did Lem, sitting beside him on the high coachman’s box, aping his movements—flicking an imaginary whip and pretending to spit.
Although Londringham brought Defiance along, he surprised Patience by insisting she join him in his carriage for their journey north. Two other smaller coaches conveying the rest of the staff trunks and household goods fell in line behind them.
Just the two of them. Patience was careful to keep her skirts out of Bryce’s way. She shyly stole a glance at the man seated across from her. He neither smiled nor frowned but wore the same expression Patience had viewed many a time before, bored indifference. How to get the trip started off right? When would be the best time to divulge my identity? Will he throw me out of the carriage when I tell him? And why will he not look at me the way he did that night in his room?
She ventured a topic of conversation, already knowing the answer but hating the silence stretched between them like an acrobat’s wire. “My lord, will our trip be long?”
Opening his vest pocket, he withdrew his watch and flipped it open. “Two full days, depending on the roads and the weather. We shall stop overnight along the way.”
“Oh, thank you.” What a stupid thing to say. I must think of more clever words to capture his attention. I need an opening to discuss Rupert. Patience noticed him rub his left leg gingerly.
“Does your wound pain you overmuch?” Such a dolt! He would not be rubbing it if it did not hurt. She could have bitten her tongue. Watching his big hand resting on his muscular thigh reminded Patience of other times when he was rubbing her in the most exquisite places. She squirmed slightly in her seat.