Page 63 of Denying the Duke (Lords and Ladies in Love 3)

Without saying anything more, she hurried up the stairs. “Please have Polly attend me,” she said to the man at the door—someone she didn’t recognize—as she entered the house.

She had to get away. That was the only thought running through her mind as she climbed the stairs. She could not face Alex tonight. Or probably ever. The man who shot Loverly in cold blood while he begged for his life was not the man she’d fallen in love with.

Love. She snorted.

War had changed him into someone she could not live with. Besides his actions tonight, she had no intention of living with a man who did not respect her. After what she’d witnessed in her parents’ marriage, she wanted a husband who treated her as a marriage partner, not some missish little chit who needed to be taken care of.

She was not stupid enough to think she didn’t need protection from someone like Lord Loverly, but had she known about him, she certainly would not have fallen into his hands so easily. Alex had treated her like a fool, and she was done with it.

Polly arrived and sucked in a deep breath at Patience’s appearance. “Your Grace! I am so happy to see you returned.” She walked closer and examined her face, touching her gently with her fingertips. “I will get something for your bruise and order a hot bath.”

“No.” Patience turned from her and headed to her wardrobe. “I am leaving tonight. I want you to pack enough for a day or two. I will send for the rest of my things later.”

“Leaving? Now? It is the middle of the night.”

“I don’t care. Please have a footman send word to my cousin Miss Suzanna Blake. She is residing with her cousins, Lord and Lady Montfort. They are in Mayfair. I believe she left the direction with John Coachman when he returned her to London after the wedding. Tell her I will be arriving within the hour.”

Polly stood staring, her mouth agape.

“Polly, please hurry. I want to leave as quickly as possible.” She snapped her fingers. “Also tell John to ready the carriage for our trip to Mayfair.” She had no idea how long it would take Alex to “clean things up” and did not want to be here when he returned. Her feelings so raw, she didn’t want to talk to him.

The maid left and Patience began pulling things from her wardrobe and dresser drawers. After her shaky fingers dropped several things on the floor, she stopped and took in a deep breath. She had to calm down, she was much too anxious to concentrate on anything. Before she could change her mind, she crossed the room and entered Alex’s bedchamber, heading right to the sideboard where he kept a bottle of brandy.

After pouring herself more than she probably should have, she swallowed it in two gulps and then stood coughing and wiping tears from her eyes. The burning in her chest hurt almost as much as the bruise on her face.

Once she stopped coughing, she returned to her room to find Polly packing items into a satchel. She glanced down at her gown and realized her attire would certainly scare poor Suzanna to death. She had no time for a bath, so she took a quick wash at the bowl on the dresser.

She pulled out an old gown, interrupting Polly to unfasten and then fasten her gowns. Not wishing to take the maid away from her packing, Patience brushed her hair back and fastened it at her nape with a ribbon. Examining herself in the mirror, she decided she would wear one of her hats with a veil to cover her bruised face.

The brandy had begun to do its work, and suddenly, Patience was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. She paced the room, trying to distract herself, stopping at the window several times to make sure Alex was not yet returned.

“I believe we are ready.” Polly fastened the strap on the satchel. “Shall I have the footman carry the bag down?”

“Yes. Please.”

She placed the hat on her head, lowered the veil, and threw a wrap around her shoulders. Without looking back, she left the room, fully intent to never see it again. Once they had settled things, he could set her up at one of his many estates. She hated London, anyway.

The ride to Suzanna’s house did not take much time. As they pulled up, she was pleased to see candles burning through the window on the lower floor. Patience exited the carriage with her head held high. As her foot touched the first step, the door opened.

Montfort’s butler bowed as she entered. “Miss Blake is awaiting you in the drawing room, Your Grace.”

“Thank you. Please direct my lady’s maid, Polly, as to where she can bring my things. She is right behind me.”

He nodded and walked Patience down the corridor, where he stopped in front of a door and knocked. He opened and said, “Her Grace, The Duchess of Bedford has arrived.” He pushed the door open and Patience stepped through.

“Oh my goodness, Patience. Whatever happened to you?” Suzanna stared at her, her eyes wide.

…

The sun was slowly making its way over the horizon when Alex rode into the mews and slid from his horse. He handed Night Storm over to the stable hand and trudged to the house. He was weary to his very bones.

It had taken hours to arrange for Loverly’s body to be removed and sent to the authorities. Then all the necessary reports took up even more time. Besides his exhaustion, he was worried about Patience. She had been in a terrible state when he’d last seen her, but hopefully, by now with some sleep and treatment for her bruises, she might be more herself.

He still hadn’t dealt with the anger the entire episode had caused. It was bad enough Patience had been kidnapped, hurt, and then held with a knife to her throat. But watching him shoot and kill Loverly was probably worse. Such events were never to be witnessed by a lady.

When he’d stood with the gun aimed at the man, he had not decided if he would kill him or turn him over to the War Department and let them do the d

eed, if that was what they wished. But once Loverly had reached into his pocket, there’d been no choice.