Max was certain the strange chit on the terrace was Patience Shackleford. Indeed, she was almost exactly as Northwood had described. But whatever ambitions the Duchess and Countess had for their sister, he did not rate their chances of getting her up the aisle. He grinned to himself. It was actually refreshing to meet a woman who did not believe marriage to be the holy grail it was purported to be. But then, if Northwood was to be believed, she was doing the entire population of unmarried males a favour.
He was still chuckling to himself as he strode back into the ballroom and ran directly into the Earl of Bamford.
The Marquess recovered first. ‘Bamford,’ he said in a clipped voice, barely inclining his head.
The years had not been kind to the Earl, but considering the rumours of the man’s debauched lifestyle, Max thought it hardly surprising. He was short and fat, with sandy, thinning hair and a florid complexion. Max believed him around three and forty but, in truth, he looked much older.
‘Guildford.’ If the Earl felt any discomfort at their sudden collision, he managed to hide it well though his answering bow was almost theatrical. ‘I must offer my deepest condolences on the death of your brother,’ he lamented sadly as he straightened. ‘I fear there are many of us who are finding Hugo’s loss almost unbearable.’
The temptation to draw the bastard’s cork was so strong, Max had to squeeze his fists together, digging his nails into his palms to stop himself. ‘I had not realised that you and my brother were more than passing acquaintances,’ he managed to grate at length.
‘That’s understandable. You were, after all, away for quite some time my lord. I like to think I acted as a … well as a replacement older brother. A sobering influence while you were away.’
Far from being alarmed at their unexpected meeting, Bamford appeared to be actually enjoying it and was in fact goading him, Max realised. The knowledge was like a dash of cold water on his temper.
He took a deep breath. ‘My brother and I did not see eye to eye,’ he said regretfully, ‘which I’m sure you were aware. He was not a good judge of character I’m afraid, though knowledge of his friendship with Prince George has given me much solace. If you also provided Hugo with … advice and guidance, then please accept my thanks.’
‘Indeed,’ Bamford replied in the same sorrowful voice. ‘Your brother’s friendship is something I will always treasure. He gave me so much.’
Too bloody right he did. Close to the snapping point, Max gave an abrupt nod.
‘Will you be staying long in Bath, Guildford?’ Bamford continued. Despite the casualness of the question, Max recognised that the Earl was probing, and he forced his ire down. He had no intention of leaving the spa town until he’d recoveredSepideh,but if the diamond was indeed hidden in Bamford’s townhouse, then the Marquess dared do nothing that might prompt the Earl to move it elsewhere - and that meant playing along.
Somehow, he had to hold on to his deuced temper and come up with a convincing reason for not immediately returning to his estate or London. Max took a deep breath.
‘I have never had the occasion to visit Bath before,’ he admitted carefully, ‘and despite the unhappy circumstances, I have found the town and indeed its … residents most congenial. It’s in my mind to remain for a week or two whilst exploring the lay of the land as it were.’
‘Ah,’ Bamford answered with a slight leer, instantly grasping Max’s inference. ‘I too have found the people of Bath to be most … accommodating.’ Looking at the corpulent sweating figure in front of him, Max doubted any woman would go willingly to the Earl’s bed.
‘Please do not allow me to keep you from your amusements any longer, my lord,’ Bamford was continuing politely. ‘Our little tête-à-tête has been most enlightening.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Dear Hugo did not speak of you often I’m afraid, though I’m certain he must have missed you while you were away.’
Max opened his mouth to deliver a scathing response, but fortunately managed to restrain himself. In the end, he merely inclined his head stiffly and managed a smile, though admittedly, it was more reminiscent of a grimace.
As the Earl waddled away, Max had to force himself to remain still. The urge to smash something was overwhelming. Glancing up, he spied a number of ladies determinedly heading towards him and swore internally. ‘Devil take matchmaking mothers,’ he muttered to himself. Suddenly weary unto death, the thought of yet more polite conversation with insipid debutantes turned his stomach. He simply had to get out. Accordingly, before the first of the single-minded matrons reached him, he turned his back and strode in the opposite direction, determined to find a back door.
Despite his tiredness, Max was still wide awake in the early hours. While he may have effectively hinted at a fitting reason for his continued stay in Bath, he had no recipient of his affections on the horizon. He grimaced in the darkness. The last thing he wanted to do was lead some poor unfortunate on, and even if he did succumb to such ungentlemanly behaviour, he was running out of time. Now, in the cold light of dawn, he was beginning to believe he had no other option but to simply attempt to gain entrance to Bamford’s townhouse without the Earl’s knowledge and somehow locate the diamond.
Naturally, breaking and entering was not generally part of a gentleman’s education, but the Marquess had always been resourceful and believed he’d be able to find a way in without too much bother. That said, if he was caught snooping, and subsequently forced to confront the Earl, it could prompt the very scandal he wished to avoid, dragging both the Wolverton family name through the mud, and even more disastrously, that of the Prince Regent and consequently Queen Charlotte.
Crossing his hands behind his head, he stared over at the first hint of dawn seeping around the edges of the curtains, well aware he was clutching at straws.
For some reason, his thoughts strayed back to his conversation with Patience Shackleford. Though she’d not actually confirmed it, Max did not doubt her identity. He thought again about Northwood’s comments and couldn’t help chuckling in the darkness. Her sisters were clearly unaware of her ridiculous plan to thwart their matchmaking attempts, and he would not break her confidence. Indeed, to tattleso would do her no favours but simply put both their reputations beyond the pale, though he had to hope she wasn’t biting off more than she could chew. Max’s amusement fled, and he frowned in the darkness. What if the silly chit really did intend to put herself in danger? How desperate was she to avoid matrimony?
Patience Shackleford had made it quite clear she had no intention of marrying. But to what lengths would she go to avoid such a fate?
Forcing himself into a sitting position, Max swore out loud. Fiend seize it, by taking him into her confidence, Miss Shackleford had made him an unwitting accomplice in her scheme. He could not, in all conscience, abandon her to a possibly unthinkable fate. Had she involved him purposely? He thought back to her desperation to be rid of him. She had clearly not planned their meeting.
Laying his head back against the oak headboard, Max groaned. He really didn’t need any additional complications in his life. He had to focus on recovering the one thing that would save his family from penury. He did not have the time to get involved with a foolish chit who was most likely dicked in the nob. She would not thank him for his interference and would insist he leave her to seek the path to her own ruin in whatever reckless way she wished. He couldn’t help her.
Unless…
∞∞∞
After tossing and turning for most of the remaining night, Patience finally gave up on sleep around dawn, much to Freddy’s disgust. She’d taken the foxhound along to her chamber, thinking his presence might provide her with the comfort to sleep, but try as she might, she’d been unable to get the Marquess of Guildford’s face out of her head. How the deuce had he known her name? To her knowledge, they’d never met before - indeed she would hardly have forgotten it if they had. And she’d unwisely hinted at her plan with a complete stranger. What a goose wit she was. If he should decide to share her foolish words with the world, her family would become a laughingstock, Duke or no Duke.
When did everything become so deuced complicated? Climbing out of bed, Patience felt the noose continue to tighten. She knew she was running out of time. If John did not arrive soon, she would be forced to … to … in truth, she didn’t know what she would do. There was no one else she could trust.
Feeling suddenly claustrophobic, she hurried over to the window and drew the curtains wide, letting in the meagre pre-dawn light. Quickly lighting a candle, she wondered if it was too early to go for a walk. If she left now, she would be back well before the maid arrived to wake her, and what her family didn’t know about wouldn’t harm them. Or more importantly, get her in the suds. Placing the candle on a table, she threw open the doors to her wardrobe and stared at the multitude of beautiful clothes deemed necessary for her to give the correct impression.What poppycock.
