Page 15 of Denying the Duke (Lords and Ladies in Love 3)

She hopped up to pull the bell rope. Instead of taking her seat, she remained by the door until a footman appeared. “Please have tea brought up.”

Once the man was off on his mission, Patience returned to her seat, stiff-backed, hands clenched in her lap. “It appears we are about to have more rain.”

Bloody hell. With all the things that needed to be said between them, they were now going to discuss the weather. No. That he would not permit.

“Why are you not married?” he blurted out, ignoring, and not apologizing, for his bellicose tone.

Patience drew back, her eyes wide. “I am sure I don’t know what you mean, Your Grace.”

“Stop with the Your Grace, Patience.” He stood and ran his fingers through his hair, walked a few paces toward the window, then back again to stand in front of her, hands on his hips. She leaned back, again with fear in her eyes. Where did that come from? He certainly didn’t remember her being the fearful type. Had something happened between now and the time he’d last seen her?

“I’m sorry—Alex. I don’t know what to say, or what to do.” She looked up at him with a pleading look. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” His jaw tightened as she sucked in a breath. The devil take it, he was making a mess of this—their first conversation. Truly, he did not know what he wanted from her. He’d thought she was completely out of reach as his brother’s widow. Then he learned they’d never married, and it had thrown his mind into a whirlwind.

Taking a deep breath, he sat again, attempting to get himself under control. “I am sorry for my tone. Right now I am discombobulated. A few weeks ago, I was a major in His Majesty’s army, on my way home from an assignment in America. The dukedom was the furthest thing from my mind. I have had no training, or guidance, for this role.”

Patience seemed to relax a bit at his change in demeanor. Two footmen entered the room carrying a tea tray. They set the tray on a small table next to Patience. She viewed the offerings and thanked them.

The respite seemed to reestablish a somewhat convivial atmosphere as Patience poured—and fixed his tea exactly as he liked it—then passed him a plate with two tarts and several finger sandwiches. He took a sip of the tea. In France and the United States, he’d drunk coffee, which he’d grown to love, but nothing beat a good cup of English tea.

He placed the cup in the saucer and cleared his throat. It was time to make amends for his attitude. “What I meant before, but unfortunately bellowed out like a farmer calling his hogs, is why, after four years of a betrothal, you and Cyrus had not married?”

She eyed him skeptically, making him wonder if he was going to hear the truth or a story she made up on the spot. “The time was never right.”

Alex leaned back, trying very hard not to appear hostile when he really wanted to reach across the distance between them and shake the answer out of her. Something had changed in Patience. He clearly remembered an open, friendly young girl who had viewed life as an adventure. She had been the one who’d wanted to run away, who had seemed fearless.

“Can you explain why the time was never right?”

Patience took a sip of tea, wrapped her hands around the warm cup, and stared at a spot on the carpet. “The agreement our fathers had worked out was at eighteen, I was to be presented to the queen at one of her ‘Drawing Rooms,’ followed by a Season to develop the exposure and polish necessary for my future duties as a duchess. At the end of the Season we were to announce our betrothal, with a wedding planned for Christmas of that year.”

Her voiced cracked a bit, but she continued, “However, the year I should have had my coming out, I was sick most of the spring with a fever, so it was put off. Cyrus then decided he did not wish to marry ‘the young chit’ just yet, and since Napoleon had been defeated, decided to take the Grand Tour he’d been denied due to the war. While he was traveling, your father passed away, and Cyrus returned to take up his duties. Since we were all in mourning, our official betrothal was not announced until a few weeks ago.”

How would he address what he’d heard from Hawk? That his cretin of a brother had left his beautiful betrothed to immediately join his mistress in bed. Where he had then collapsed and died, leaving Patience to deal with the humiliation.

“How are you holding up?”

She raised her chin and stared at him with her clear, green eyes. “I have never been so happy and relieved in my entire life.”

…

Patience remained still as Alex regarded her with very little surprise. Obviously, he knew his brother quite well, but her own memories of Cyrus still gave her nightmares. Many a night, the thought of going from her father’s house to the Duke of Bedford’s home and bed had caused her to think of ways to escape.

Every time her family had visited the Abbey, Cyrus had attempted to claim his nonexistent husbandly rights. She’d fought him off, and once, received a slap to the face that had left her bruised for a week. Mother had been distraught, and her father wanted to know what she had done to provoke her future husband, who had every right to “take her in hand.”

At one point, she had managed to squirrel away some money and had convinced Polly to flee with her, but they’d been caught and dragged back home. Father had not been pleased. And she’d paid the price.

Ale

x, however, appeared to ignore her statement. Instead, he said, “What are your plans now?”

She gave him a sad smile. How to explain that all she wanted to do was retire to her family’s country estate and spend the rest of her life planting flowers and riding her horse. But since her father had other plans, there would certainly be no peace for her. She doubted Alex was privy to Father’s scheme to marry her off to him.

At one time, she would have been ecstatic. Now all she felt was weary—tired of being a pawn in men’s games. She no more wanted to be forced to marry Alex than she’d wanted to marry Cyrus, even though the two men were dissimilar—and at one time she’d had strong feelings for Alex.

She’d spent four years dreaming of her knight in shining armor coming to rescue her. However, he no longer seemed to be the same young man with whom she’d fallen in love. He was harder, not only in body, but in soul. There had been no smile for her the two times she’d seen him, and a hollowness was now present in his eyes that had not been there before.

The carefree and loving young man was no more. The man she saw now was cold and bitter. There was no tenderness when he looked at her.