Page 36 of Earl of St. Seville

If the information were coming from Holstrom, then the only place he knew of her being was Bedford Square. He couldn’t know she’d returned Sin to his lodging—and accompanied him inside. Could he?

Having her trailed wasn’t something Lord Holstrom seemed prone to do.

However, having Sin followed after the prizefight seemed at least plausible.

“I was at Bedford Square for a short time.” It was best to only admit the smallest of her infractions, especially if her father weren’t any the wiser about her two evenings stationed outside the Albany and her even more scandalous time within the lodging house. “There was a match between two acclaimed pugilists. I was only there for a short time, and my driver accompanied me.”

“I was unaware you were leaving the townhouse at all.”

Patience wanted to tell him that he’d be much more informed if he exited his office with more regularity when he was home other than to find sleep and chaperone Patience to social gatherings, but she kept her mouth shut. Bringing him to anger would not benefit her in any way, and she still needed to slip from the house unnoticed for the upcoming fight in Seven Dials, not to mention it would be necessary for her to visit Southlund’s House for further training. She could not risk having her father take a keener interest in her comings and goings.

It was best to make amends and promise that she’d not do anything so reckless again.

Her apology stuck in her throat, though. Outright lying to her father was something she’d immediately regret.

“I will do my best to keep you abreast of my plans in the future, Father.” She lowered her head for good measure, hoping he took the gesture as resignation and not a means of hiding her face from his all too perceptive stare. There had been a time that a mere glance from her father would be enough for Patience to spill whatever secrets she held. Now was not the time to risk finding out if he still had the skill to draw information from her. “I am sorry if my actions caused you any trouble.”

“For heaven’s sake, girl,” he sighed, the tension leaving him. “I love you to distraction”—an odd turn of phrase for her father to use—“and if anything or anyone harmed you, I would be adrift. You are my youngest, Patience, and your mother’s favorite—”

“What?” Valor shouted with fake outrage.

“You jest, Father.” Merit leapt to his feet; though, truly, neither man could be shocked at her father’s words.

The pair was consistent and predictable if anything.

“If anything,”—her father’s voice broke, and he swallowed before continuing—“if anything ever happened to you, your mother would never forgive me.”

In moments such as this, Patience wondered if her father remembered that his countess was gone and not only just momentarily out of the room. Her heart ached all the more for the hurt he suffered each day. Yes, Patience had lost her mother—as had her siblings—but her father had lost the greatest love of his life. He’d never been common stock of nobility. No, the Earl of Desmond had proclaimed his love and adoration for Ivory Bess far and wide long before securing her as his wife. That love had produced five healthy, happy children.

“I will endeavor to remain above scandal and any hint of gossip, Father.”

“Oh, fiddle-faddle, girl.” The earl reclined in his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am not, and never have been, concerned with idle gossip. It is your safety that is paramount and of the utmost concern to me.”

She stood and hurried around the desk to press a kiss to her father’s cheek. He might shy away from any affection, but that did not mean Patience need do the same.

“I love you, Father,” she whispered in his ear. “If there was one thing I learned from Mother, it was to avoid danger whenever possible.” Of course, she’d also learned to step inside a punch when necessary, but there was no reason to remind her father of such lessons. “If there is nothing else, may I go?”

He waved his hand, his attention already focused on his work. “Yes, yes, yes and take your brothers with you. I am much too busy to have them going on and on about their time in the country.”

She took in her brothers, their identical smiles turned in her direction and, without a doubt, Patience knew they were up to something. Though four years separated the men, they were nearly always found together as a pair. Where one went, the other followed. It didn’t help matters much that in just the perfect lighting, Merit and Valor appeared more like identical twins than brothers of dissimilar ages. Something Patience suspected they’d used to their advantage many times.

“Come along.” Patience sighed and hurried toward the study door. “I suppose I’d like to hear about the country house party you both attended.”

The pair caught up with her in the hall as she made her way to the main stairs, flanking her on each side.

“We disagree. What you’ve been up to is far more entertaining than our silly house party,” Merit whispered, slipping his hand through the crook of her arm.

“Yes, dear sister.” Valor voiced, a tone or two too high for a gentleman. “We have it on good authority that Bedford Square is not the only place you visited last night.”

Patience halted, turning to stare daggers at her two brothers. “Whom did you hear that from?”

Both shrugged with innocence, but it was Valor who spoke, “Does it matter?”

“It most certainly does,” she retorted. Damnation, but Patience hadn’t been careful at all. She hadn’t kept an eye on who was around the Albany or if anyone paid her any particular mind. Apparently, she wasn’t as unseen as she’d thought.

“Let us say that Holstrom isn’t the only bloke keeping watch on you, Patience.” Valor smirked and elbowed Merit.

“In fact,” Merit picked up where Valor left off, “we have also been informed that there is to be another prizefight. And that you shall be in attendance.”