Denying the Duke (Lords & Ladies in Love) Page 16

  Alex tossed the nightgown to her and walked to the water bowl on the dresser, washing his face and cleaning his teeth. With Thomas busy supervising their leave-taking, Alex pulled on his clothes and tied his cravat in a loose knot. He turned to Patience who was still abed. By the look on her face, it was apparent she’d been watching him strut around naked. Her breathing was rapid and she had a lovely blush on her face. When she licked her desirable lips, he fought the urge to join her.

  No, he could not make love to her again so soon.

  He tamped down his lust and said, “Hurry up, sweeting. We will want a bite of breakfast before we leave.”

  Patience pulled the nightgown over her head and shimmied into the garment. “Will you send Polly up, please?”

  He left the room as quickly as he could, wishing there was a cold lake nearby he could dive into. He found Polly in the common room, speaking to Thomas. “Polly, Her Grace would like you to attend her.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” The woman hurried off as Alex took a quick look around the common room, then walked outside to check the area around the inn. No sign of Loverly. He strode back into the inn and to the private dining room where the innkeeper’s wife awaited him. “Shall I serve breakfast now, Your Grace?” The plump woman with the cheerful smile dipped a curtsy to him.

  “Yes. My wife will be joining me in a little bit, but I will have some coffee while I await her.”

  Alex sat and sipped his coffee, staring into the cold fireplace. Once the early summer months arrived, most inns stopped providing fire for their guests, but there was still a slight chill in the air.

  His thoughts wandered to London, where they would arrive today. He would have to visit with the War Department as soon as they returned. He would also contact Hawk, Cam, and Templeton and warn them to be aware that Loverly was following him. He was concerned for Patience, and had to make sure once they arrived in Town that she was never alone when she left the house.

  It would not be easy to do that and not have her ask questions. She was not an addlepated woman. His attention snapped to Patience as she entered the room. Her hair had been braided and wrapped around her head. Her blue traveling suit had been brushed and her boots shined. She looked the epitome of a lovely aristocratic woman.

  He stood and pulled out her chair as the innkeeper’s wife carried in a tray loaded down with eggs, rolls, butter, fruit, and kippers. Once the food was placed on the dining table, he and Patience began their meal.

  “I will need a few moments to use the facilities before we leave.” Patience wiped her mouth with her napkin and placed it alongside her plate.

  “I will see you outside. I am going to check on the horses.”

  Once again as he exited the building he looked for Loverly, but saw nothing amiss. Since the traitor had been riding a horse, chances were he was already in London. It was quite possible he’d ascertained their destination and no longer felt the need to track them.

  With all his concerns, Alex was anxious to get on the road and finish the journey. Traveling was always troublesome at best, what with difficult, muddy roads, highwaymen, and the chance of breaking down along the way. With the added worry of Loverly tailing them, he would not relax until he had Patience inside four sturdy walls.

  Just as he thought those words, she appeared from the door of the inn and joined him. “I am ready.”

  Alex opened the door and assisted his wife in. He gave John Coachman instructions and climbed in after her. With a tap on the ceiling, the carriage began to move forward, to London, and the issue he had to deal with there.

  Hopefully, it would be resolved quickly.

  …

  The outside of the War Department building at Horse Guards stood dark and gloomy in the cloudy, rainy day. He entered the building and shook the water from his great coat. His appointment with the commander in chief of the Forces was in less than five minutes. He hurried up the steps, turned right, and entered the chief’s office.

  A young soldier stood at attention near the inner door. Another soldier sat at the desk in the center of the room. The man jumped up as Alex entered. “Good morning, Your Grace. The Commander is awaiting you.”

  Alex nodded and followed the soldier into the inner sanctum of the commander in chief, where major decisions, involving life and death situations, were made. The chief stood and offered a slight bow. “Your Grace, thank you for coming.”

  A slight smile teased Alex’s lips. “That sounds remarkably humorous coming from you, Commander.”

  The man waved to the seat in front of his desk, and Alex settled in.

  “Bad business, this Loverly thing. I wished the man had done us all a favor and killed himself. We’ve managed to keep things as quiet as possible in deference to his daughter. However, the last we heard she has disappeared. I hate to think what her life would be like if she were here in London.”

  Alex leaned back and rested his booted foot on his opposite knee. “I’m afraid the Loverly thing has hit close to home for me.”

  The commander’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed?”

  “As you know, I have just returned from my estate, where my wedding recently took place.”

  “Felicitations, Your Grace.”

  Alex nodded his acknowledgment. “Both at the church on my wedding day, and at one of the inns where my wife and I stopped on our way to London, Loverly made an appearance.”

  The commander’s jaw dropped. “We have been searching for the man here in London. We’ve scoured all his usual haunts, former friends’ homes, and have a twenty-four-hour watch on his townhouse, which is now under the control of the Crown.”

  “Somehow, he found a horse and managed to travel all the way to Bedfordshire, and back again.” Alex leaned forward. “What concerns me are his intentions. He obviously wants to contact me, but my major worry is my wife. I wouldn’t put it past Loverly to involve her in some plan to get what he wants.”

  The commander pounded his desk with his fist. “The man is a dunderhead. He should save the House of Lords an extensive trial and a public execution, and take care of the business himself.” He let out a breath and shook his head. “There is absolutely no honor in the man.”

  Alex shrugged. “It has been my experience that traitors have little honor.”

  The commander nodded. “Yes. You are right. So, what are your suggestions?”

  “I will put guards with my wife at all times and wait for him to contact me. Now that we are all back in London, I imagine it will be soon.”

  “You know what to do if you encounter him?” The unspoken message was clear. If the man wasn’t willing to kill himself, it would be done for him.

  Alex stiffened. “I am no longer in His Majesty’s service.”

  “I am authorizing you as a citizen of the Crown.”

  But he was not just a citizen, he was a duke. Only the Prince Regent himself could authorize such an act. Alex pushed it to the back of his mind. “What if I merely bring him in? Those were my orders when I was sent to America to rout him out.”

  “We wanted him on British soil to question him. Learn his contacts.”

  His taste for the brutal life he’d left behind had ceased. How could he kill a man in cold blood and then return to his wife and make love to her? That Alex was no more. He must be gone to move on with his life, assume his new role. He stood. “I have other business to attend to. I will keep you apprised of the situation.”

  The commander stood and extended his hand. Alex accepted the handshake and left the room.

  Holding a glass of brandy in his hand, Alex stared out the window of his study. It was well past midnight, and the sliver of a moon cast only a slight glow on the garden outside the window. Two days had passed since his meeting with the commander in chief. Two days of constantly watching his surroundings, two days of having footmen follow Patience, while trying not to alert her to the danger she might be in. He took a sip and jumped at a flash of something reflected in the window.

  “So
we meet again, Your Grace.” Loverly stood in the middle of the room, a pistol pointed at Alex’s chest.

  He cursed his foolishness in not being prepared. His pistol was in his middle desk drawer, nice and safe. But then, he’d never expected Loverly to appear in his house, either. “How did you get in?”

  “Ah, Your Grace. That is my secret, is it not? All I can say is you might be a bit more circumspect when you hire your help.” He moved farther into the office and waved the pistol. “Put the glass down. We don’t want any weapons in your hands now, do we?

  “I must tell you how impressed I am with your change in importance. To think I was captured and dragged back from my new life by a duke. One would think that gives me an entirely new status, yes?”

  “Why are you here, Loverly? I want you out of my house and out of my life.” He looked around the room, trying to see what he could use to surprise the man and possibly relieve him of his weapon.

  “Ah yes. What is it I want from the new Duke of Bedford?” He pointed with his pistol to the two chairs in front of the dark fireplace. “Perhaps we should sit and have a conversation, Your Grace.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Patience entered the breakfast room, still anxious from her calls the day before with her mother-in-law, and dreading the ones for the afternoon. Yesterday’s visit had gone well, but she’d suffered through the examination by Lady Cummings-Blackmore, a notorious woman, who had reduced many young ladies of the ton to quivering jelly. Patience had only met her once or twice and had not looked forward to having the termagant pass judgment on her.

  She had breathed a sigh of relief when she and the dowager duchess had left Lady Cummings-Blackmore’s residence. Patience had managed to not embarrass herself or the dowager.

  This morning they were headed to the modiste once again to be measured, pulled, pushed, and stuck with pins. As much as she enjoyed having new gowns made, she hated the procedure to get them.

  Alex stood and pulled her chair back. “What are your plans for today,” he said, his tone sharp as he settled back into his seat.

  Taken aback, she answered, “Your mother and I are visiting the modiste this morning, and making calls this afternoon.”

  He nodded. “Is there any way you can postpone your plans?”

  “Why?”

  His attitude confused her. He looked almost angry. “I think you have enough gowns.”

  Had he not looked sincere, she would have laughed. But apparently whatever was disturbing her husband, he did not find it humorous. She tried a lighthearted response to ease the tension. “No woman has enough gowns.”

  “I would prefer if you stayed at home occasionally. You are forever wandering around London.” His lips were tight, and she became annoyed. What was this all about? She was an adult, to come and go as she pleased. He was not her father, and she had no intention of letting him control her the way her father had.

  “We have only been in London for two days, so I hardly think I am ‘wandering around’ as you so succinctly put it.” She scooped butter onto her knife and spread it over a piece of toast. “Your mother made these plans. I am following her wishes.” She placed the knife down with a bit of enthusiasm. “I might say, at this point, that I would like nothing more than to return to the country.”

  “My mother does not run our lives.”

  “Perhaps someone should tell her that.” She blew out a breath and attempted to calm down. Already stressed in anticipating the day’s trials, Alex’s manner was pushing her over the brink. Just when she thought her old Alex had returned, he’d become pompous and arrogant, very much the duke he swore he would never be.

  They both stared at each other, tension radiating between them. Not the good type of tension, Patience thought. Certainly not the tension she’d felt yesterday morning when he’d locked the library door and they’d made improper use of his desk. She had barely composed herself before it had been time to dress for her afternoon calls with his mother.

  She’d been forced to wear a gown a bit higher in the neckline to hide the small marks Alex had left on the top of her breast.

  Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am sorry. I did not mean to have this turn into a quarrel.” He smiled at her, no real warmth in the gesture. “Please forgive me.”

  “Yes.” Of course she would forgive him, but something was off. He had assumed his new duties with aplomb, surprising her, but from the time they had stopped at their first inn on the way to London, he’d seemed tense, distracted, and almost angry. “Is something wrong, Alex?”

  Again, the smile did not quite reach his eyes. “No.” He patted her hand, as one would pat an adorable kitten or puppy. “Do not concern yourself.”

  The rest of the meal passed in silence, until Alex stood. “I will see you at dinner.” He got as far as the doorway, then turned. “Do not let my mother bully you. She has a tendency.”

  Right now, she felt as though both he and his mother were bullying her. She felt pulled and pushed in every direction.

  Perhaps there was something lacking in her that made those close to her feel as though she could be browbeaten. No, she would not allow that. She should slip away from the house and enjoy some freedom. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Patience retired to her sitting room after breakfast where she spent the time answering correspondence and writing in her journal. No sooner had she closed the cover of her book when the dowager appeared at her doorway. “Aren’t you ready? Our appointment is in one half hour.”

  “I just have to retrieve my shawl, bonnet, and gloves.” She hurried past her mother-in-law’s direction.

  “Of course you will fix your hair.”

  Patience gritted her teeth and continued, mumbling to herself. After grabbing her belongings—she refused to even look at her hair, she descended the steps to meet the dowager duchess at the entrance hall. They left the house followed by two footmen. Patience turned to them. “We probably won’t need your help today. We aren’t expecting to have packages to carry.”

  The shorter man bowed. “His Grace prefers if we accompany you, Your Grace.”

  Honestly, the man was insufferable. Did he not trust her? After all, she was out with his mother, of all people. With as much dignity as she could muster, she accepted the man’s hand and climbed into the carriage.

  “I don’t understand why we need an entourage.” Patience adjusted her skirts and placed her hands in her lap.

  “It makes no difference, Your Grace. You have other things with which to occupy your mind. Ignore servants. As a duchess, you should never speak to them unless it is to give them orders. That is what your head butler and housekeeper are for. They deal with servant issues.”

  “Even Polly?” She bristled. “Should I have the housekeeper speak for me also when it comes to my own lady’s maid?”

  The dowager’s brows rose at her impertinence, and Patience was piqued enough to stare her down.

  “Truth be known, I believe you are too friendly with your lady’s maid. She does not always know her place. You should be firmer with her. Servants work for you. They are your employees, not your friends.”

  “Polly is more than an employee.” She was probably getting herself into trouble here, as she did need the dowager’s support, but, honestly, this ordering her about by both Alex and his mother was wearing, and she was tired of it. It was time to assert herself. She might be Patience, but she was losing her patience.

  The thought made her giggle, and she ignored the dowager’s questioning glance at her chuckle.

  She could have her secrets, too.

  Staring out the window, she decided to have an escape soon and enjoy some time to herself. No afternoon calls, no modiste sticking her with pins, no elderly matrons sniffing at her, finding her wanting. A walk in the park, a stroll on Bond Street, an ice at Gunter’s. Just her and her “inappropriate” lady’s maid, Polly. Pleased at the prospect, her nerves settled. She would do that very soon.

  P
erhaps tomorrow.

  …

  After entering his club, Alex strode through the main room to the northwest corner where Templeton, Hawk, and Cam had gathered, sipping on coffee. Cam seemed to have them enraptured with some sort of tale that was probably 90 percent fictitious. The man’s reputation for weaving stories was renowned and quite entertaining, making him the darling of the ton. That, and his handsome face, title, and money. Adamant about not marrying for at least another ten years, so far he had held out against the toughest of the marriage-minded mamas and their conniving daughters.

  “You’re just in time to hear the ending of this latest tale.” Hawk grinned as Alex sat across from him. He waited, somewhat patiently, as Cam wound down. In the meantime, Alex poured a cup of coffee and added cream and sugar.

  Once they all had a laugh at the story, Alex put his cup down and leaned forward. “Things have gotten quite serious with Loverly and I need your help.” He looked around at the group of friends.

  Templeton frowned. “Whatever you need, we’re here. What happened?”

  “Last night I had a surprise visitor.”

  “Loverly?” Hawk asked.

  “The very one. I intend to find out how, but he managed to get into my house and surprised me in my study. Around midnight.”

  Templeton let out a low whistle.

  “Exactly.” Alex nodded in Templeton’s direction. “He held me at gunpoint and demanded I give him five thousand pounds and a safe escort to a ship heading to the Caribbean.”

  “Well. He certainly isn’t asking for much, is he?” Hawk said.

  “Of course, I told him I did not have that kind of money on hand. At which time he informed me he would give me two days to gather it, and he would send a note as to where and when we will meet.”

  Alex waved at the footman to bring more coffee. Cam stopped him. “I believe this calls for something a bit stronger than coffee.” When the footman approached them, Cam said, “Brandy, my good man.”

  “What guarantee does he have that you will agree to this?” Templeton viewed him over the rim of his glass.