Sighing, she succumbed to her maid Ruby’s poking and primping without complaint until both Grace and Temperance were at least satisfied with her appearance. Nodding in unison, they both stepped back and agreed that it might be entirely wasted on their ungrateful sister, but at least she looked her best.
With one last talking-to, her two sisters left her to make her own way downstairs. Grace to visit the nursery and Temperance to eagerly ready herself for her husband’s return later that day.
And surprisingly, as she stared into the mirror, Patience was unable to argue with their assessment. This time, her dress was a beautiful shade of lilac, which entirely complimented her colouring – giving her an unexpected flush to her cheeks and softening her usually mousy hair. Running her tongue experimentally over her lips, she wondered absently if they were always that pink, and unexpectedly found herself imagining what it would feel like to have the Marquess press his mouth against them. The thought sent a sudden jolt of heat directly to the juncture between her thighs. With a small gasp, she looked down, but seeing nothing outwardly amiss at least, she fidgeted uncomfortably, pressing her legs tightly together in an effort to banish the strange sensation.
Another five minutes passed before she was certain she had the tremors under control, and as soon as she began to feel more like herself, Patience picked up her gloves and bonnet and made her way downstairs to wait in the drawing room along with Felicity and her four younger siblings.
Watching their noisy bickering effectively dampened even the most lingering heat, and as Prudence threw a punch at a grinning Anthony, Patience began to wonder what on earth she’d been thinking. Clenching her teeth, she glanced over at her companion. Felicity was calmly sipping her tea whilst seemingly ignoring the mayhem around her. She didn’t look in a dudgeon at all. Taking a deep breath, Patience decided to take a leaf out of her mentor’s book. She just needed to somehow find some inner tranquillity. How hard could it be? She picked up her cup and took a small sip, willing the pandemonium to go over her head.
Unfortunately, inner tranquillity was a lot harder than it looked, and by the time the Marquess of Guildford presented himself at exactly twelve o’clock, Patience was a hairsbreadth away from committing murder. While her outside demeanour looked calm, inside, she was a roiling mass of uncertainty, frustration and anger.
Her feelings were further complicated by the fact that she was also inexplicably looking forward to seeing the Marquess again. Which was of course entirely ridiculous. Guildford was not interested in her, only in recovering his diamond. The fact that her whole family thought that somehow, she, Patience Shackleford, had captured the interest of a handsome title was absurd.
The noise had reached such a crescendo in the drawing room that neither Patience nor Felicity heard the front door bell clang. Unfortunately, the final straw came as the butler knocked and opened the drawing room door to announce the Marquess’s arrival, just in time to observe Patience stand up and yell, ‘Damn your eyes you unruly bunch of windbags. I swear I’ll risk the morning drop if you don’t bloodyshut up.’
For a few seconds, nobody moved. The silence was so absolute they could actually hear birds twittering in the tree outside.
The hush was broken by the butler’s discreet cough. ‘The Marquess of Guildford,’ he intoned, in a voice completely devoid of any emotion before backing hastily out of the room. All eyes travelled to Lord Guildford, immaculately turned out in morning attire. As Patience stared at him, she thought she’d never laid eyes on anyone so handsome. Her face went the colour of a ripe tomato, and she opened and closed her mouth several times, only to have nothing come out of it. She was entirely bereft of words. Nothing,nothingcould excuse her behaviour. If he’d been truly courting her, he would undoubtedly have walked away in disgust.
‘You look just like a fish.’
‘Patience just said some rude words.’
‘What’s the morning drop?’
‘Are you going to marry my sister?’
Fortunately, Felicity recovered first, and rising gracefully, gave a small curtsy. ‘How delightful of you to call, my lord. My name is Felicity Beaumont – I have the honour of being an old family friend and will be most pleased to accompany you today. May we offer you some refreshment before we leave?’
Following Felicity’s lead, Patience somehow managed to find her voice. ‘I am sure his lordship would prefer to leave immediately,’ she stammered. Then belatedly realising she had forgotten to curtsy, she gave a quick bob before finishing lamely, ‘It is a fine day, is it not?’
In truth, the first half of their walk was more of a march as Patience endeavoured to get the whole ordeal over and done with as quickly as possible. There was no opportunity for private conversation as her four younger siblings were determined to monopolise the Marquess. Fortunately, they arrived at Sydney Place and the elegant hotel overlooking the gardens within minutes. There was a small orchestra playing on the balcony of the hotel, and a large number of people were enjoying both refreshments and the sunshine.
The park itself was delightful. The principal path sloped gently upwards leading to a picturesque pavilion, the view from which was quite breath-taking. A narrow waterway meandered through exotic trees and shrubs and was spanned by two elegant bridges in the manner of the Chinese, providing the whole space an enchanted feel.
Patience had not visited the park before, and slowing down, she looked about her in delight, briefly forgetting the reason they were there.
‘I suggest that we keep to the main path,’ the Marquess submitted with a nod towards the younger Shacklefords who were clearly already anxious to run off. Patience looked to Felicity who nodded in agreement. In truth, she would have loved nothing more than to venture off the principal walkway to explore the romantic, picturesque landscape.
As they walked, Felicity was careful to remain close to her charges, but not so close as to impede their conversation, though she now believed it to be a fruitless exercise, given Patience’s earlier outburst. She could not think of any circumstances under which a peer of the realm would even consider taking to wife a female with the mouth of a fishwife. Sighing, she looked determinedly ahead at the four younger Shacklefords who were running around with gay abandon, having no idea they had just effectively ruined their older sister’s chance of ever making an advantageous marriage, or indeed any marriage at all.
Max, on the other hand, was not a typical peer of the realm. He was well aware that they could use his companion’s outburst to promote the very outcome she wished. Once the language she’d used became common knowledge, there was no doubt she would be shunned by theton.Naturally, the rejection would initially include her siblings, but such was the standing of the Duchess of Blackmore and the Countess of Ravenstone, that the Marquess had little doubt they would ride out the storm. However, the perpetrator would be unlikely to be forgiven much before her dotage.
Comfortable obscurity achieved in one fell swoop. Providing, of course, her family did not disown her.
Of course, it would also mean he’d have to shun her too. And there lay the rub.
For some reason that had nothing to do with the reclaiming ofSepideh, Max did not wish to avoid Patience Shackleford’s company. Indeed, he’d found it difficult to think of anything else. The thought of her being harmed at Bamford’s had churned at his gut, preventing him from sleeping until the early hours when he was certain she must be home.
Glancing over at her rapt face, he wondered how he could ever have thought her plain. She was contradictory, bad-tempered, outrageously direct, and gloriously alive. More so than any woman he’d ever come into contact with. And for all her familiarity with colourful expletives, she had an odd naivety about her. It was clear she believed herself unlovable but was not willing to change herself to become more palatable. Dear God, he hoped she never did.
He abruptly became aware that the object of his thoughts was speaking. Her rising colour also indicated she’d been aware of his scrutiny.
‘I feel I must apologise for … for … my behaviour earlier,’ she stammered, looking down at the ground.
‘Mayhap it was fortuitous,’ Max answered. She looked at him, brows furrowed, clearly not understanding.
‘Well, it certainly solves our dilemma,’ he explained drily. ‘Your … performance was witnessed by eight people and undoubtedly heard by a good few more. Unfortunately, servants especially are notorious for spreading gossip…’
