‘Didn’t you mention that your father’s a clergyman?’ Max queried in surprise.
‘That’s never stopped him before,’ she scoffed. ‘Indeed, my father left to his own devices is a recipe for disaster. Much, much better to keep him under our noses.’
By this point, Max was having serious doubts about the whole damned business. What had seemed like a perfect idea the day before now felt like a slippery slope to disaster. ‘It is not usually the done thing to call on the household of a duke unannounced,’ he offered, well aware he was fudging. Patience shrugged. ‘Nicholas does not care about such things,’ she declared, ‘and besides, the townhouse has been rented by Adam, and he’s an earl, which I believe is lower than a marquess.’ She shook her head at the ridiculous rules and regulations followed by the English aristocracy. ‘And in any case, there is no point in us prevaricating as I’m completely certain the Earl of Bamford will quickly see through our ruse.’
Max stared at his accomplice’s excited face and wondered what madness had possessed him to involve her in such a preposterous scheme. But, having revealed his predicament to Patience, he now had little choice but to see it through to the end.
Accordingly, he presented himself at the Earl of Ravenstone’s Bath residence at promptly three o’clock that afternoon. Although Patience was aware of his arrival, it was another agonising ten minutes before she was called for.
She had only had the opportunity to speak briefly with her father before the Marquess’s arrival but had promised to divulge the entire scheme once the three of them were alone.
For reasons she preferred not to examine too closely, she had taken great care with her appearance that morning and gritted her teeth when she saw the knowing look on her sister’s face. Despite her assertions at the ball, Grace clearly couldn’t actually believe they’d managed to attract the interest of such a prime catch on Patience’s very first entry into society. Indeed, the Duchess’s face was flushed, and she tittered at every comment the Marquess made. The fact that she had no idea when said prime catch had actually laid eyes on Patience in no way dampened her enthusiasm, and if she happened to wonder, she took great care not to show it.
Patience, aware that to appear too eager might well be a little suspicious, instead did her utmost to appear, for the most part, surly and uncommunicative. In other words, she endeavoured to act like her normal self.
However, she couldn’t help wondering whether she’d done the right thing by tipping off her father. Every time the Reverend spoke to the Marquess, he wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully. Indeed, at one point, she was convinced he actually winked. It was fortunate that Adam and Nicholas were not present, or they would undoubtedly have smelled a very large rat. In truth, if Grace hadn’t been so delighted that Patience was receiving such an illustrious visitor, she too might have questioned what the Marquess of Guildford actually saw in her Friday-faced sister.
To Patience, the quarter of an hour seemed interminable, and she was entirely certain that had the Marquess truly been interested in pursuing her, he would already have changed his mind and been on the fastest coach back to London.
At length, just as she was on the verge of standing up and yelling, ‘No more,’ Grace stood up reluctantly. ‘I trust you will forgive me my lord, but I have a prior engagement and must leave you in the err … capable hands of my father and sister.’ She glanced warningly at both of hercapablerelatives as the Marquess stood up and bowed. ’It has been an honour to make your acquaintance your grace,’ he murmured sincerely.
Patience winced as her sister giggled again before finally sweeping out of the room.
‘Tare an’ hounds, I thought she’d never leave,’ muttered the Reverend, rising to his feet to pour himself and the Marquess a brandy.
‘Right then, my lord, let’s hear it,’ he demanded, handing Max a large measure. ‘What exactly have you involved my bacon-brained daughter in, and how exactly is it going to get us all out of the deuced suds?’
Chapter Ten
‘So, let me get this straight. You think to give everybody and his dog the impression that you are interested in my daughter to lull Bamford into a false sense of security and give you time to find this diamond of yours?’ Reverend Shackleford frowned and looked over at Patience dubiously. ‘I’m not sure that would wash with anyone whose eyesight was more than passable.’
‘That’s exactly what I said,’ Patience responded with no rancour at her father’s assessment of her merits. ‘There is no time to lose. We need to discover the whereabouts of the diamond as soon as possible.’
‘And how do you think to do that?’ the Reverend questioned doubtfully.
‘Bamford is having a soiree the day after tomorrow,’ responded Patience. ‘Naturally, Lord Guildford has not been invited, but we have.’ She pursed her lips. ‘At least, I am certain Nicholas received an invitation, but I’m unsure whether he accepted. I’ll find out this evening.’ She frowned thoughtfully. ‘Indeed, it might be better if he did not accompany us. If we can persuade him that you and I, Father, should attend in his stead, we’ll have far more freedom to snoop.’
Her father glared at Max before looking back at Patience. ‘That’s as may be, but how is you getting his gemstone back going to help you avoid the marriage mart?’
‘As the sum of Miss Shackleford’s plan to avoid matrimony appears to be her ruin by person or persons unknown, I will effect an interest to protect her from unscrupulous individuals who will seek to take advantage without concern for the aftermath,’ Max responded through gritted teeth, though the question was directed to Patience. ‘You must realise that her idea to simply compromise herself with anyone who volunteers is more likely to see her bedded by some varmint who does not give a tinker’s damn about her welfare let alone her reputation.’
‘And you do?’ was the Reverend’s equally blunt response.
‘I will not see her a laughingstock,’ Max retorted.
‘You won’t be seeing her bedded either,’ the Reverend growled.
‘John is hardly a varmint,’ Patience protested.
‘Who the deuce is John?’ questioned Max with exasperation. The whole bloody business was beginning to resemble a farce.
Patience opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. How to explain that John was the person who’d taught her to pick locks without disclosing his main source of income.
‘A friend’s brother,’ was all she said lamely in the end.
‘You were intending to ask your friend’s brother to compromise you?’ questioned Max incredulously.
‘He’s very accommodating,’ declared Patience with a frown.
