‘For goodness’ sake, stop your sniveling, lad, somebody could come through that door at any second.’ Reverend Shackleford patted his curate’s shoulder, then looked down at Bamford’s still form.
‘Well, I must say I didn’t think you had it in you, Percy,’ he sighed. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to argue this one with the Almighty.’
‘Is he … dead?’ gulped the curate.
The Reverend bent down. ‘No, but he’s going to have the devil of a shiner.’ Then pursing his lips, he looked back up. ‘We certainly can’t leave him here. He’ll be stripped of everything but his birthday suit within the hour.’
‘I think he was waiting for his carriage,’ Percy guessed, wringing his hands.
‘Well, where the devil is it?’ The Reverend looked around, then shook his head and sighed. ‘We’ll just have to take the scoundrel back in our carriage and somehow come up with a decent Banbury story if he wakes up on the way.’ He stepped over the body. ‘Give me a hand, Percy,’ he mumbled, bending down to take hold of the Earl’s arm.
It took five minutes to lift the comatose man, and by the time they had him slung between them, Bamford was unfortunately beginning to come round. ‘Haven’t had enough yet, Moll?’ he mumbled attempting to nibble Percy’s ear.
‘What are we going to do, Sir?’ the curate hissed, trying to hold onto the Earl whilst batting away his advances.
‘Lord knows,’ the Reverend muttered as the Earl began to nuzzle into the clergyman’s shoulder. ‘Fancy riding St. George?’ his lordship slurred with a lurid wink.
Fortunately, at that very moment, Bamford’s carriage appeared behind them. Clearly, the coach driver had also been taking advantage of the additional services provided at the tea house.
‘Wot you doin’ wiv ‘is ludship?’ the man bellowed as he pulled the horses to a stop beside them.
‘I’m sure his lordship will be asking you the same question tomorrow morning,’ commented the Reverend tartly. ‘You’ll help us get him into the carriage if you know what’s good for you.’
The driver blanched and hurriedly climbed down, demanding, ‘Wot’s up wi’ ‘im?’ as he rushed to open the door.
‘We believe he’s sustained a nasty knock on the head,’ the Reverend grunted as Bamford tried to stick a wet tongue in his ear. ‘Indeed, it’s very fortunate we were here attempting to save the souls of those poor fallen women.’ He nodded towards the tea house, then jumped and slapped the Earl’s hand away as it crept round to pinch his ample bottom. ‘Like ‘em a bit meaty,’ leered Bamford wobbling backwards and forwards like a newly released Jack in the Box. In the end, it took all three of them to push and pull the portly Earl until he was mostly seated inside the carriage.
‘I suggest you return his lordship home immediately,’ panted the Reverend, surreptitiously trying to wipe the Earl’s slobber from his ear.
The driver nodded before hastily climbing back onto his box and cracking his whip to urge on the two horses. Seconds later, the carriage disappeared round the corner.
‘Do you think the Marquess and Patience have had enough time to retrieve the diamond?’ Percy questioned.
The Reverend sighed. ‘Well, as distractions go Percy, I think this one was up there with the best. And if the Marquess hasn’t yet managed to recover the stone, I think Bamford’s so befogged, he’ll show them where it is and offer them a nightcap while he’s at it.’
Chapter Seventeen
Patience must have fallen briefly asleep as the next thing she knew, the Marquess was gently shaking her awake.
‘The hour is late,’ he whispered. ‘Your father will return soon, followed by the rest of your family, and we do not wish them to discover us so compromised before I have the opportunity to speak with your father.’
‘What is it you wish to speak with my father about?’ Patience asked drowsily.
With her head still resting on his chest, she did not see him frown at her question. ‘If we are to wed,’ he murmured, ‘I would prefer not to begin our formal courtship with your family believing me a rake of the first order.’
‘Wed?’ Patience responded confused. ‘What are you talking about?’
Max raised his eyebrows at her question. ‘You think I will not do the honourable thing?’ he countered quietly.
Patience sat up and stared at him nonplussed. ‘I have no need of your offer, charitable though it is,’ she retorted. ‘We spoke of this, my lord. I have no wish to wed – indeed, my family have finally accepted that I will remain a spinster. I am travelling home in two days.’
‘Ah yes, the comfortable obscurity part of your plan,’ he bit out.
She frowned at his tone. ‘Yes,’ she faltered, ‘our partnership has accomplished its purpose.’ She paused and attempted a smile. ‘Indeed, it has turned out much better than we dared hope. You have your diamond, and I have my freedom.’
‘Is that what we are?’ he shot back savagely. ‘Partners?’
‘I … I … don’t understand,’ she whispered, fumbling with the buttons of her shirt.
