Page 51 of Earl of St. Seville

She’d hidden her vulnerabilities by cowering behind her convictions and her work.

The foolish, bloody pamphlets.

Her fists clenched at her sides until her nails cut through her gloves and into the palms of her hands.

It had taken only the sight of Sin—and his kind words in Holstrom’s hall—and Patience had all but forgotten the one passion she’d clung to since her mother’s death. She’d gone so far as to reenter Southlund’s House.

She’d lied to her father.

Perhaps she’d lied to herself, as well.

A frigid droplet of rain landed on her upturned face, mingling with her warm tears.

Her years of caution in regards to pugilism, the hours spent speaking with fighters, profiteers, and the printing of her pamphlets had made no difference, except to make her an outcast among those who should see her as their equal…a peer.

She’d toted her self-righteous message to all and sundry.

And then had quickly forgotten it all when she saw Sin’s need.

In the last five years, Patience had made certain that not a single member of society got to know her. She’d hidden behind her work. But why?

If Sin had taught her anything, it was that she’d been right to hide, both herself and her heart. The hurt at discovering Sin’s lies wounded her as deeply as her mother’s passing had.

It was a betrayal to her mother and her memory to even think this way. Comparing the death of her most loved and cherished relative to the lies of a man she’d met only a week prior? She wasn’t only an insufferable person, she was also an ungrateful daughter. In her selfish need to champion her mother’s death, Patience had knowingly sent her father into harm’s way, night after night, distributing her pamphlets. Worse yet, his reclusive nature had been Patience’s doing, as well. Each time he went out on her fool’s errands, he relived the loss of his countess.

It was his undoing.

Patience finally allowed the sobs to leave her, breaking the silence of the night…and doing nothing to alleviate her pain.

An agony she had no right to feel.

Her father was worthy of his continued sorrow. Sin was deserving of his all-consuming need to save his family and his people. Even the men and women who chose prizefighting as their means of crawling out of the deplorable circumstances of their birth had the right to seek a better future.

Damnation, if a person enjoyed the sport, who was Patience to fight, kick, and scream at them to change their interests?

Her mother had never given up on pugilism, even after she retired from fighting. She taught at Southlund’s and passed her passion for the sport on to another generation of pugilists. Including Patience. There had been a time when Patience knew no greater joy than seeing the smile on her mother’s face when she executed an advanced move in the ring or when she bested her sparring partner.

She’d taken something that had been a source of pride for her family and turned it into something so vile she felt compelled to shout her warnings from the rooftops.

In her single-minded pursuit, she’d even pushed her siblings away.

Her sisters, Temperance and Verity, scrambled to wed and be away from Marsh Manor, and Merit and Valor spent increasingly large spans of time away from their townhouse. And her father remained in his study when he wasn’t at his club.

Patience had done this to her family.

She’d thought she was helping others, stopping them from suffering what her family had, but instead, she was making it impossible for her family to exist in one home.

Could it be that she’d been utterly wrong? Maybe not in her belief that brawling was a danger but that life itself could ever be completely safe.

Tonight, she’d pushed Sin away, likely forever, and all because she didn’t see that his reasons were as important or worthy as her own.

“What have I done?” she demanded of the sky above.

In response, the clouds overhead parted and the midnight moon shone brightly.

Chapter 17

In the aftermath of his confrontation with Holstrom—and in his hurry to depart Seven Dials—Sin had paid no heed to the two men who followed him from the warehouse to Coventry’s waiting carriage in the alley. Due to his rage over the circumstances, Sin didn’t bother glancing about when he paused to put on his shirt, followed by his jacket. He was prepared for any confrontation to come. In his need to see Lady Patience, and in his anger at himself for hurting her, Sin hadn’t noticed the two men climbing into the carriage after him. And as the pain from his injuries began to draw at the edges of his mind, and the exhilaration of the fight subsided, Sin finally glanced up from his place in the carriage to see the two dark-haired men sitting across from him.