Patience fought to still her excited trembling as the Earl appeared again. Bending down, he picked up his glass and swallowed the rest of the brandy. Seconds later, the door opened, and he was gone.
With a sigh of relief, Patience stepped from behind the curtains. There was a muttered oath behind her, and when her father didn’t appear, she turned and lifted the sumptuous drapery. ‘What the devil are you doing?’ she hissed, as she revealed her father swathed in gauze like one of those Egyptian mummies she’d read about.
‘What does it look like?’ he muttered, batting ineffectually at the fabric covering his face. ‘And unless you want to be carrying me out in a deuced box, I suggest you lend a hand.’
Sighing, Patience stepped back into the folds of the curtains. ‘You’re trapped in the under-curtain father,’ she grumbled. ‘Just stop moving, you’re simply twisting the fabric around you.’
Suddenly, shockingly there was a knock on the glass behind them. In a blind panic, the Reverend turned to see two eyes peering at them through the French window. Augustus Shackleford gave a low terrified scream which was immediately echoed by the figure standing outside. Half a second later, the figure uttered a strangled sound and disappeared.
‘Damn it father, do you want everyone in the house to come running?’
‘Someone’s out there,’ protested the Reverend.
‘Well, whoever they are, they’ve undoubtedly gone for help,’ groaned Patience hurriedly trying to unravel her father from his shroud.
Suddenly, a hand plastered itself against the window. Despite her earlier admonishment, Patience couldn’t prevent the small scream escaping her own throat.
‘Who’s there?’ the Reverend quavered, finally managing to claw the bindings from his face and pressing it against the glass.
A white face appeared to accompany the hand. ‘It’s me, Sir,’ groaned a familiar voice. I think I’ve hit my head.’
‘What again? The Reverend shook his head in disbelief. What the deuce are you doing skulking around Bamford’s back garden?’
‘Keeping watch, just like you told me to,’ the curate defended, blinking the driving rain out of his eyes.
‘Percy, can you go and fetch the carriage?’ Patience interrupted, desperate to get the unfortunate curate out of the rain as soon as possible. ‘We’ll meet you at the front of the house in ten minutes. Don’t let anyone see you aside from the coachman.’
As Percy nodded and creptaway, she finished unwrapping her father. ‘The diamond is here, in this room,’ she said excitedly.
‘You can stubble it right there my girl,’ the Reverend muttered heatedly. ‘We are leaving this very minute.’
‘But…’ protested Patience.
‘No buts. If we get caught now, we’re finished. And not only us, but the whole deuced family. Nicholas will never forgive us,’ he added at her mulish expression.
Patience glanced around the shadowy room in frustration before uttering a sigh. ‘Of course, you’re right father. We need to hurry. She turned back to straighten the curtains before glancing longingly towardsthe bookcase.
Was the diamond hidden somewhere amongst the books? She shook herself. Now was not the time. Instead, she nodded to her father, and together they tiptoed to the door. Five minutes later, they were back in the large drawing room. To their relief, the Earl did not glance their way even once. Neither did he appear to have noticed their absence.
Without further ado, they slipped quietly through the front door and out into the night.
Chapter Twelve
‘The Marquess of Guildford has sent a note requesting your company for a promenade around Sydney Gardens? Grace commented elatedly over breakfast the next morning.
‘Indeed, that is splendid news,’ beamed Felicity helping herself to toast.
Patience forced down her excitement and smiled as demurely as she could over at her sister. Unfortunately, not having a demure bone in her body, she entirely overplayed the bashfulness, earning her a suspicious look from Temperance.
‘Truly, that is good news,’ she added with a slight cough. ‘What time does he suggest?’
Grace looked down at the card. ‘Twelve p.m.,’ she frowned. ‘That is a little early.’
‘I don’t mind,’ responded Patience quickly. ‘I’m sure father will be happy to accompany me.’
She looked towards her father who was currently hiding behind the morning papers. She coughed to get his attention. With a sigh, the Reverend laid down his papers and opened his mouth to speak.
‘You promised to accompany me to the Pump Room, Augustus,’ protested Agnes before he had a chance to utter a word. To Patience’s frustration, her stepmother’s voice had thewoe betide him if he arguesring to it. She knew her father would not dare cry off.
