The Notorious Bridegroom (27 page)

Lady Elverston waved her hand as if to swat him. “Why, you liar, you flummoxed me! I asked you here to convince you that in your right mind, you should marry the girl.”

Bryce patted his breast pocket. “Marriage license in hand,” he told her with a grin.

He had finally shocked Lady Elverston speechless. She could only stare at him, shaking her head in bewilderment. Fully recovered, she raised a fine eyebrow.

“Have you told Patience how you feel?”

“Not in so many words, but my intentions have been fairly clear. If she has any doubts, I will clarify them for her tonight.”
By word or deed,
Bryce thought. His manhood stirred in anticipation. He paused significantly. “Would you and Lord Elverston join us for a surprise announcement this evening at 75 Courtyard Lane?”

Lady Elverston returned, “It would be our singular pleasure. This calls for a celebration. I know she will make you very happy.”

His amused expression beamed. “Of that, madam, I have no doubt.”

Sally peered through the crack in the front parlor door. Aunt Patience was crying again. This time she didn’t make any noise, the tears just slipped down her cheeks, and every now and then she would wipe them away with her handkerchief.

The little girl held her doll, Spring, by the neck, at her side, wondering whether she should go find Aunt Martha or Aunt Melenroy, perhaps they would know how to cheer Aunt Patience.

“Let me see,” Lem whispered urgently in her ear, pushing her away from the door. The little footboy squinted through the crack, then sighed as he frowned at Sally, who watched him avidly. “She’s still cryin’.”

“I know. I was watch’n before you pushed me,” Sally retorted.

“Why do girls cry all the time?” Lem muttered almost to himself.

Sally’s little shoulders straightened back. “We don’t cry all the time, just when we’r sad, like when I lost my doll.” Spring hung forgotten by her side.

Lem’s eyes widened in concern. “Why is Miss Patience sad? Someone should tell the master.”

Sally shook her head sadly. “But ’e isn’t ’ere to ’elp Aunt Patience.”

Lem stared beyond Sally’s small blond head. What would a soldier in the King’s army do to comfort a lady? His little face furrowed with heavy thinking. Then he remembered that Miss Patience liked Miss Martha’s cat, Satan. He would find Satan and bring him to Miss Patience. He was sure that would cheer Miss Patience right up.

He ordered Sally to stand vigil outside the parlor door, in case Miss Patience needed her.

Sally’s tiny mouth pouted slightly. “But I’m too little to stand forever by the door.” Spring’s dress dusted the floor.

“Ah, ye can’t do anythin’, yer such a baby. Then sit on the floor,” Lem’s impatience with the little girl obvious.

Before she could tell him she wasn’t a baby, he had lifted her in his arms and sat her down with a plop on the soft carpet. He pointed his finger at her. “Ye stay ’ere and I’ll be back to get ye.” He marched off on his mission, leaving Sally staring forlornly after him.

It sure was lonely here in the hall. Sally heard the housemaids in the dining room, and through the nearby open window heard merchants calling their wares. The little girl wandered over to the window nearest the front door. Pushing aside the white linen curtains, on tiptoes she could see the busy street below her, the beautiful carriages wheeling by with shiny coachmen driving the lovely shiny horses. Was that the pudding man?

Sally bit her lip. Standing guard sure could be hungry work. Perhaps if she left Spring to watch over Aunt Patience, she could find Aunt Martha and they could buy a pudding. Carefully placing Spring by the gap in the French doors, the little girl skipped down the hallway and down the stairs. She would return before Lem did, so he would not know she had left her post.

Patience dropped the necklace she had been worrying on the fireplace mantel and turned in stunned amazement at Colette waiting in the doorway. Her last tears had dried after she had decided she would confront Bryce about the necklace. He surely did not think it would be that easy to get rid of her.

She swept across the room and pulled her friend into the room, shutting the door behind them. After seating Colette comfortably on the sofa, Patience sat down beside her, concern etched gravely on her face. “How are you? Where have you been?” It was amazing how someone else’s troubles could make your own fly right out the window. “I have been so worried about you.”

Colette blinked her long dark lashes in surprise. “But why? There is nothing wrong with me.”

Patience shook her head, grasping the maid’s arm. “But the note. I was to meet you at Puffins Lane last night. You were in trouble.” She could not control the dismay and confusion in her shaky voice.

The maid’s green eyes grew wider, her mouth slightly open as she listened to Patience. “I sent you no note. What did the note say?”

Patience rubbed her brow and collapsed against the back cushion of the sofa. “None of this makes any sense.” She paused and drew a deep breath. “Late yesterday, I received a missive with your signature claiming you were in trouble and needed my help. When I arrived at the specified place in Puffins Lane, I…found the countess’s cousin, Sansouche. He was dead.” Patience still had not fully recovered from the previous night’s shock.

Colette looked down at her hands in her lap. With a voice barely above a whisper, she told Patience, “We learned this morning. The constable visited with the countess, who is distraught over his death. I must help her with arrangements to return to France immediately.”

Patience turned to her friend. “Does anyone know who might have wanted him dead and why?” She hesitated before telling Colette, “I think someone sent me there to find his body, and they knew I would come when I heard you were in trouble, but why?”

Colette shrugged and rose to walk to the bay window, looking outside. “I do not know. All this trouble, it makes me anxious to return to my home.”

She paused, then turned to face Patience, still mulling over this mystery. “I am here this morning because I
do
need your help.”

Patience sat at attention at this unexpected announcement. She raised her eyebrows in query. “But what is it? You
are
in some type of trouble? What can I do for you?”

Returning to her side, Colette took Patience’s hands in her own. “As I said, I must leave England.”

Patience offered her friend a smile of support. “I’m sorry to see you go. What will you do on your return to France?”

The maid looked down before replying. Quietly, she told Patience, “I have learned of my uncle’s malaise. He needs me and has asked for me.”

Placing a comforting arm around Colette’s shoulders, Patience commiserated with her. “I understand about the needs of family. You should return.”

The room remained still, each woman consumed with her own thoughts. Then Colette turned an anxious face to Patience. “That is why I am here.”

Patience stared curiously at her friend. “If it is within my power, I shall do whatever I can to assist you.”

The maid’s face brightened a little.
“Mon ami.”

Just then Stone entered without knocking, part of his nature, with a tray of tea.

Before continuing, Colette watched Stone until he had vacated the room. “You see, it is the Captain Kilkennen, his lordship’s friend. The man fancies himself in love with me, but I do not return his affection. I am asking you to help me write a letter to him, to tell him I am leaving and to not follow me. My English lettering is not so good, so I thought perhaps you could write it for me.”

Patience listened in rapt silence, her eyes widened in surprise. She had had no idea that Colette and Bryce’s friend had a liaison. Although she did not know the captain well, Patience thought the news would cause a tremendous blow.

“Are you positive that he loves you? Perhaps you are mistaken?”

The maid, with a cold, determined look in her eyes, shook her head. “No, he thinks to promise me marriage but I want nothing from him. Please will you help me?”

“Perhaps I might be able to handle this gently, to save his feelings,” she told Colette, then she rose from the sofa and walked to the escritoire by the window. The last thing Patience wanted was to be involved in the dissolution of their affair. However, if she could word the letter carefully, she might be able to salvage the Captain’s pride.

She wrote
“Sir,”
then looked expectantly at Colette across the room, waiting for the maid’s suggestions. “Can you offer me any lexis to use?”

“
Oui,
I have thought on this, and I would like to say that ‘honored as I am at your attentions, I cannot reciprocate your affections. I do not love you.’”

Patience’s head was bent as she wrote the letter, her heart constricted for the man who would suffer such pain at this, knowing she was part of the instrument that caused it.

Colette’s train of thought resurfaced. “After I am gone, you will know this was for the best. You understand in war, the innocent are always hurt. But you are not innocent and neither am I. What I have done and am about to do, I did for my country.”

Patience’s jaw dropped as the quill fell from her fingers. “Colette, what are you talking about? What have you done?”

Colette pursed her lips, her deep-green eyes hiding many secrets. “Let us finish writing the letter, and I will explain these things to you.”

Lately, everything concerning Colette was an enigma, a complete tangle that had no beginning or ending. Patience shook her head, then resumed transcribing.

“‘I return to France, my home. Someday you will learn the truth and be surprised. I will have surprised everyone at my success.’” Addressing Patience, she ordered, “Let us end the letter with, “‘Do not follow me, for I cannot be found. Be content that in time I am sure I will pay for my sins.’” Her voice was becoming raspier, her breathing harsher. She had walked over to the desk and stood behind Patience, watching her as she wrote.

Patience looked up to observe Colette more closely. Her face was pale as she leaned against the desk to inspect Patience’s work. She was ill, that much was certain.

Uneasily, Patience scratched the last few words, her friend from Storrington seeming more a stranger than ever.

She started up from the desk. “You are ill. I shall send for Stone, he will know what to do.” All thoughts of uncovering the mystery surrounding Colette halted temporarily. She helped the weak woman into a nearby chair and asked her, “What can I do? Perhaps some water?”

Colette put a hand to her brow, her face compressed in pain. “I simply need to rest for a moment.”

With a distressed backward glance as she left the parlor, Patience hurried to procure some water for her tormented friend.

She didn’t see Sally hiding behind the door. Sally was looking for Spring. She had enjoyed her treat and returned to collect her doll, but Spring was nowhere to be found. The little girl watched as Aunt Patience ran from the room, and decided to see why she was in such a hurry.

She peeked inside the room and saw a strange woman bending over the desk, writing with a quill. Sally shivered when she saw the wicked look on the woman’s face. It was like the face of the witches Aunt Patience had described in Sally’s fairy-tale books. Yes, the witch had frightened Aunt Patience, but she had escaped.

Sally quickly realized that if the witch caught her spying, something awful might happen to her. She hoped Spring was safe somewhere else, and Sally ran with the wind behind her as fast as her little legs would carry her, away from the witch with the evil eyes.

Patience bustled into the room with a glass and smelling salts in her hand and halted. Colette was no longer on the chair. She started to glance around the room, when she heard Colette speaking over her shoulder. “I will not be needing the water. But I would like you to come with me.” In a suddenly regained strong voice, the request was more like a command.

Slowly, Patience pivoted to confront a completely healed Colette holding a very menacing-looking pistol. “Colette, what has happened? What are you doing? I don’t understand.” Her voice shook with fear.

Colette’s eyes were as cold as a storm-tossed winter sea. “You’ll get your answers in due time. I just need you to sign your letter to Lord Londringham and then we shall depart.”

Patience stared aghast at her once-friend. “
My
letter?” she managed to squeak.

“
Oui.
His lordship will return and read the letter and know it was you who are the French spy. He will know your betrayal and will not pursue us.” Colette nudged the pistol in the direction of the desk. “Please finish, we have little time.”

Patience stared in disbelief. “You, you are the French spy Lord Londringham seeks?”

The other woman shrugged, her secret could now be told. “Yes, I have fooled everyone, including his lordship and many others. They seek a man, when it is a woman who has trumped them!” Her bold words rang in the room. She pointed the pistol at Patience’s heart, waiting.

Patience walked slowly toward the escritoire, her heart thumping with dismay and pain. She slowly signed her name “Patience Grundy.”

“Please to let me see it.” When Patience proffered the letter to Colette, the woman nodded quickly.
“Magnifique.”

Colette propped the letter on the mantelpiece and instructed Patience. “I want you to walk out this door, get your cloak, lead me out the front door and down to the carriage I have waiting. Tell the butler that you and I are going for a carriage ride and should return in an hour. If you give my little secret away,” she warned Patience, indicating the pistol, “then I shall not be responsible for any injured or dead parties. They will be on your conscience if you did not do as I say. Have I made myself clear?” Her face held almost a friendly, companionable expression with a very dark smile.

Patience knew she would do whatever she had to do to get Colette out of the town house before she hurt anyone. She nodded to the woman. “No need to use that thing. I assure you I will cooperate. Please do not hurt anyone. They have done nothing,” she pleaded with Colette, who looked as if she had bloodless veins.