Page 35 of Earl of St. Seville

Her father cleared his throat before continuing. “Patience, would you agree I give you freedoms not allowed other women of your tender age?”

“Yes.” Her chest tightened. “And I am very grate—”

“Would you say that with that freedom there is an unspoken agreement between us?” His eyes narrowed, and Patience noticed, perhaps for the first time, how he’d aged in the last several years. “And, in turn for you respecting society’s rules for young ladies, I agreed to distribute your pamphlets.”

“Of course,” she said hesitantly. “Is this about going to Southlund’s House this morning?”

“Did you inform me of your intent to visit the club?”

“Yes.”

“Then that is in keeping with our unspoken agreement, is it not?” he asked, his voice quiet and unhurried.

“Y—es,” she conceded.

He folded his arms on the desk in front of him. “Mayhap you should ponder where you’ve been recently that you have not told me about.”

Patience’s heart skipped a beat, and she clutched her hands tightly in her lap as she made a show of thinking though her movements over the last several days. The truth was, she’d been a couple of places—Bedford Square, the Albany, and Sin’s private chambers—she hadn’t told her father about. And she had no plans to admit to them now.

“Did you accost Lady Holstrom in her own home?” he seethed.

His seriousness only served to incite deep chuckles from Merit and Valor.

Patience pivoted in her seat, her narrowed stare pinning Merit and then Valor, quieting them instantly. They might be the elder siblings—and male—but they’d learned long ago not to poke fun at their youngest sibling.

“No, Father.” Patience kept her voice level. “I did not accost Lady Holstrom, I only attempted—“

“Lord Holstrom has proclaimed the opposite.” He fell silent and stared at his desk.

Belatedly, Patience realized he was rereading a correspondence.

“He also informed me that you and he were embroiled in a verbal altercation in the hall outside his office…at the same soirée.”

Patience snorted. “I would not go so far as to call it a verbal altercation.”

The earl’s fist landed sharply on his desk, halting Patience’s words. “I must say, I am inclined to believe Holstrom.”

“Father, this is preposterous,” Patience fumed, leaning over the desk that separated them, her stare begging her father to disregard whatever Holstrom—the scoundrel—had written. “I merely wanted a word with the lord, and he did not favor a meeting with me.” He held up his hand to silence her but Patience would not be quieted, not if it meant a man such as Holstrom gained the upper hand in her household. “If you do not believe me, inquire the truth of the matter from the Earl of St. Seville.”

“St. Seville?” her father mumbled. “What does he have to do with any of this?”

“He happened upon Holstrom and me in the hall.” Patience sat back, crossing her arms. “I am certain he will tell you that what I speak is truth.”

“What makes you think I would take St. Seville’s word on a matter as grave as this?”

“I cannot think why you would believe Lord Holstrom over your daughter; however, here we are.”

Her retort did as expected, causing her father to raise from his seat with frustration. “It is not only his concerns with you at the soirée, Patience. I can overlook such trivial instances as that.”

Patience was suddenly alert and wary. He thought her actions at the soirée trivial even though she’d deceived him into believing she hadn’t brought her pamphlets to the gathering?

“Then I must confess, I am uncertain why you are vexed with me.”

He returned to his chair. “Where were you last evening?”

“At what time, specifically?”

“Do not play coy, Patience,” he thundered, causing both Merit and Valor to spring from their lounges. “I will only ask the question one more time. Where were you last evening?”