The advice was given in a breathless whisper, and Patience realised that her companions were terrified of the giant. There was no water to wash in, but to her relief, there were clogs for their feet. Pulling the dress over her head, Patience looked for some kind of tie, but there was nothing. Though she was hardly sylphlike, the dress was huge on her, the bottom dragging on the floor, and she had to gather it up to slip her dirty feet into the clogs. ‘I ‘ope yer ‘andy wiv a needle, or you’ll likely break yer bloody neck in that,’ cackled one of her companions in a voice she recognised from the night before.
Patience was saved from replying as the door opened and all whispering ceased. In the customary line, the women filed past the giant and headed along a narrow corridor into what was clearly part of the servants’ halls. Patience looked around her, trying to memorise as much as she could. There were no decorations. The small windows were bare of hangings but did not allow much light through, and the few candles dotted about simply accentuated the gloom. They were taken into a room at the end of the corridor which contained a single table with two long benches either side. Simple rushes covered the floor, though the smell indicated it had been some time since they’d been changed.
To her surprise the table was ladened with bowls of porridge and hunks of bread. There was also a pitcher of water and bowls to drink it from. The key turned in the lock behind them as the women wasted no time sitting down and tucking in.
‘Don’t hang back,’ commented a new voice to Patience. ‘You won’t be getting anything else until supper.’
Hurriedly, Patience did as the woman bade. Seating herself on the end of a bench, she pulled a bowl towards her. There were no spoons, and the women were simply scooping the porridge up with the hunks of bread. For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the room were chewing and swallowing as everyone focused on breaking their fast. The porridge was tasteless and cold, but the bread wasn’t too hard, and the cheese was surprisingly flavoursome. In a short space of time, there were only crumbs left on the table, and almost as one, the group turned towards their newest addition.
‘So, wot did ye do to upset ‘is lordship then?’
∞∞∞
For the next two days the men took turns watching Bamford’s residence to no avail. Despite their earlier certainty that the Earl would not wait for long before gloating over his latest acquisition, his lordship barely moved from the house. By the end of the second day, frustration was warring with ever-increasing anxiety, and despite Malcolm’s ongoing enquiries around the town, it was as if Patience had vanished into thin air.
By the time Max took his turn loitering around the entrance to Bamford’s townhouse, his temper was at a breaking point. As he watched for any movement, he vowed to himself that if the bastard did nothing by the end of the following day, he would take matters into his own hands and beat the information out of the treacherous little snake himself. A sick feeling had lodged permanently in his stomach, so much so that he found himself hardly able to eat. In truth, everyone was clearly suffering the same fear as the meals provided at the Earl of Ravenstone’s townhouse, though delicious, were being returned almost untouched.
Hidden around a corner, the Duke’s carriage waited, with Charity and Prudence seated inside. The younger Shacklefords too were playing their part, taking turns to act as possible messengers in the event the Earl made his move. However, apart from the endless quarrelling which must have been driving the coachman to distraction, they did not appear to be suffering from the same lack of appetite.
As his turn was coming to an end, Max’s need to do something,anything, was beginning to take over his common sense. Fortunately, Adam arrived on horseback before he had the opportunity to do something foolish. Dismounting swiftly, the Earl regarded Max sympathetically as he offered the Marquess a warming tot of brandy from a small hip flask.
Despite the rocky beginning, Max had begun to feel as though he’d found kindred spirits in the Duke of Blackmore and the Earl of Ravenstone, especially after both had insisted he use their given names. To a man who’d spent the majority of his life holding people at arm’s length, the feeling was strange indeed. Mayhap it was shared adversity that was promoting the sense of belonging Max felt, but whatever the cause, he was glad of it. Nothing had been said of his relationship with Patience, but Max had the sense that he would be welcomed into the unconventional family, provided of course Patience would actually agree to wed him. The possibility that she may never get the opportunity, he did not dare even consider. He’d swear never to see her again if it was the only way to have her return safely.
‘Anything at all?’ asked Adam looping the horse’s reins over a low hanging branch. Max shook his head, handing the flask back. ‘I’m beginning to …’ He stopped as the sound of a carriage came from the long driveway to the Earl’s mansion. Seconds later, a coach and four appeared, turning right towards the town boundary.
‘About bloody time,’ muttered Adam. He unlooped the reins before turning towards Max. ‘Take the carriage and collect Nicholas and Malcolm,’ he instructed. ‘I’ll follow Bamford on horseback.’
Max opened his mouth to argue but paused as Adam laid a hand on his sleeve. ‘I understand you wish to be the one to give chase,’ the Earl murmured, ‘but I know these roads and you don’t. Better you pick up Nick and Malcolm as quickly as possible and follow in the carriage. Keep to the main highway. As soon as I know where the bastard’s headed, I’ll return to guide you.’ Max gave a tight nod, and Adam gave his arm an approving squeeze in response.
The two men parted, Adam swiftly climbing back onto his horse Merlin, and Max running towards the concealed carriage.
At last, the game was afoot.
Chapter Twenty-One
In the short space of time they were allotted after breakfast, Patience learned that all the women were indeed being held in Farfield Place due to various offenses supposedly committed against the Earl of Bamford. Patience’s assumption that the gentlewoman was the Earl’s wife proved to be false.
The lady whose name was Beatrix, had apparently been Bamford’s mistress. A penniless second cousin to a minor title, she’d been persuaded that succumbing to the Earl’s advances was a better alternative than starvation. Two broken ribs and the loss of numerous teeth later, she decided that mayhap the bargain she’d struck was not such a good one after all and she’d attempted to run away. Needless to say, she didn’t get far, and her punishment for daring to defy the Earl was another beating, followed by incarceration in this place.
The other women had similar stories. Lolly and Bess were prostitutes who’d objected to Bamford’sunusualtastes, and Kate had been the personal maid to the Earl’s wife. ‘I’m here because he didn’t want me telling people the truth about the way he treated Lady Edith,’ the softly spoken woman shrugged.
‘Where is his wife?’ asked Patience, trying not to show too much interest.
‘She’s ‘ere, but ‘e don’ want ‘er talking wi the likes o’ us,’ Bess mocked.
‘We see her sometimes sitting in the garden when the weather’s fine,’ added Kate. ‘We sometimes manage to speak, but only ever for a few seconds. Cavendish is always watching.’
‘An’ it don’ take much afore he uses ‘is fists or anythin’ else wot’s ‘andy.’ Lolly lifted her hair to reveal a long red scar. Patience shuddered and swallowed.
‘Does … does the Earl ever visit?’ she asked in a small voice.
The two former trollops chuckled humourlessly in unison. ‘Likes to keep ‘is ‘and in does ol’ Bamford,’ Bess shrugged. ‘Me an’ Lol, we give ‘im wot ‘e needs when ‘e needs it.’
‘Keeps the bastard away from Kate an’ ‘er ladyship ‘ere – most o’ the time,’ added Lolly without rancour.
‘Why has Bamford brought you here?’ Beatrix asked the question Patience had so far managed to avoid, but before she could come up with an answer, the key began to turn in the lock signalling their respite was over.
‘Wot’s yer name anyways?’ whispered Bess quickly as they all began scrambling to their feet.
