“Nothing. Not until she’s back at Hamlin.”
“And that’s why we are the best of friends, so stupidly similar. I’ve tried doing nothing these past weeks. I’m out of my mind, wondering where my wife is or if the fool woman is intending to leave.”
“I thought she already left you.”
“No, you daft, Duke. Leave England. Return to Demerara.”
“Well, if you are done with her and she wants to go, let her. You can’t keep someone who wants to leave.”
“And you can’t sit around testing them to see if they will stay. You care for Jordan’s widow, but you goad her just to test her character. You should know her by now.”
Was that what he was doing? Testing her dedication to Lionel and to himself?
“Duke, this woman has Wellington’s great general on nursing duty while she’s free to do whatever.”
“She didn’t go with the barrister and Mrs. St. Maur; she stayed with the countess.”
“Well, St. Maur will be back soon from her adventure.”
“Why?”
“As soon as she learns gaming hells only allow men, she’ll see her mistake.”
“Only men can go into a gaming hell?”
“Yes, only men. You know this. We’ve been to a few.”
“No, not for a long time. All men?” Busick rubbed his chin. “Lieutenant, repeat the field report from the major.”
“Why?
“Just repeat it, man.”
“Mrs. St. Maur left with the barrister and an unidentified man about a half an hour ago. To go to a gaming hell.”
Busick jerked up, his back twinging from the motion. “Gaming hells only admit men or those theypresumeare men.”
“Duke, you think the nanny is impersonating a man again?”
Patience had a notion in her head, and the fool woman would see it through. “Send for Shrewsbury. She is the key to everything. She may even know where to find Lady Gantry in Town. She’ll definitely know where to find my gambling nanny.”
Gantry wiped through his hair. He looked poised to run. “I’ll go get the countess myself.”
“Tell her that I need her for Lionel. That will hurry her.”
His friend left at a glorious speed, and Busick looked down at his ward.
Sometimes, mothers don’t come back. The wanderlust in them needed to be released. But some needed to be chased after and given reasons to return. Busick didn’t know which camp Patience belonged, but she’d know his opinion on the matter posthaste.
CHAPTER 23
GAMBLINGSTAKES
The stench from the gaming hell had to be in my clothes, my hair, even my skin at this point. The cigar smoke was thick, as thick as the cursing, the spilled liquor, and my disappointment. I brushed at my emerald-green tailcoat hoping to clear away the last hour.
“Patience.” Jemina asked as I climbed into the carriage, “Did you find Sullivan?”
“Yes.” I said, only the one word, for I had nothing else to offer. Hearing my husband’s character run down as Markham’s pigeon stole everything—words, sentences, reason.
