Persuading Patience Read online

  After having done a considerable amount of homework in the days before Nibley had joined him, he had made a discovery, however, and one that he was rather pleased with. He’d been walking in Sydney Gardens on one of the first warm days of the year when he’d had the breath, and the wits, knocked out of him by an angel. There really was no other manner of describing the lovely creature who had all but left him speechless. She had, quite literally, barrelled into him, laughing hysterically, and then fell to blushing in the most endearing manner as she realised what she’d done.

  It appeared that a truly ugly and unpleasant pug dog had been to blame for their accidental collision, but before August could demand who she was, she had been ushered off by her chaperone. This had been a woman several years her senior, a rather plain and stern-looking creature who had all but given him the evil eye. August, however, was not so easily thwarted. A little investigation had turned up the information that the angelic vision was not only on the lookout for a husband, but she was an heiress. Suddenly the idea of marriage didn’t seem quite so unpalatable. After all, if she was really as rich as they said she was, and with a face and figure like that … well, that would most certainly sweeten the deal. For once in his life, his mother might actually approve of him. The news only got better, though. Not only was she from a very respectable family, but her older step-sister was known to be an educated woman, something of a blue-stocking, by all accounts. Sadly, this was the dragon who had all but frozen him to the core with her warning glare. That she was a perfect match for old Percy dithering at his side, however, had to be obvious even to the most dim-witted creature on earth.

  In theory, the plan was so perfect that August was almost overcome with his own cleverness. After all, Percy would lend him countenance and hopefully play down his well-earned and desperately rakish reputation. In return, August would try and give Percy a little town bronze and the ability to converse with a member of the opposite sex without stuttering, or mentioning his blasted rocks. In practise, his angel and her chaperone had been rather harder to track down than he’d hoped. At every turn, he seemed to arrive at a place they’d left five minutes earlier, and he’d begun to feel that they were always one step ahead of him. Then he had discovered that it was their habit to take a glass of water at the Pump Room before breakfasting at the Lower Assembly Rooms. So here he was, a nocturnal creature by habit, up at this ungodly hour of the morning for the sole purpose of tracking down an angel. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.

  “I’m not really sure we ought to accost the young ladies at breakfast,” Percy said beside him, pulling at his cravat with a grimace. August suppressed a sigh and ignored him. “After all, we’ve not been introduced.”

  August turned and gave the man a look of frustration before continuing to look for his angel. “There,” he exclaimed, a little startled to discover a slightly older version of his angel at her side, as well as the guardian dragon. Before he had time to consider who this woman might be, the slightly older angel’s eyes had found him. She smiled. August smiled back. The dragon lady frowned and followed the woman’s gaze, as did his own sweet angel. Two beautiful smiles and one cool, considering glance were levelled at him at once before all three ladies turned away. “Did you see?” he demanded of Percy as he turned back to Lord Nibley. Nibley, however, was still staring, a glassy-eyed look of stunned devotion in his eyes.

  “P-perfection,” he murmured, looking too much like a landed fish for August’s comfort.

  “Well, if you like that sort of thing,” August said, wondering how the fellow could describe the dragon lady in such terms, but to each their own. “I told you you’d suit each other, didn’t I? The question is, how to arrange an introduction?”

  “Lancaster,” Percy managed, still sounding a little shaken. August looked to where the man gestured and scowled. Benjamin Lancaster was something of a rival. A hardened gambler, his tastes were rather darker than August’s, but he still seemed to manage to charm the ton, and especially its ladies. “Knows everybody,” he added.

  “Hmph,” August replied, still scowling, but he had to admit the man was well connected. He didn’t relish the idea of drawing his attention to the angel in the room, but it was unlikely Lord Lancaster was unaware of her. If he did indeed know one of the party, however, that was the invitation he required. “Very well, come along, then.”

  “Nibley,” Lancaster said, nodding to Percy as the two men approached. August looked the fellow over. He was tall, six foot, at least, and with the kind of build that suggested tales of him fighting with Gentleman Jackson were all too true. He had the air of a libertine, too, a world-weary, cynical glint to his blue eyes and a rather sardonic curve to his mouth. The fellow was handsome, to be sure, in a rather dark and forbidding manner, but August felt he offered no real competition with the angel. A man like him would send her running in terror, surely? August at least had the ability to look as though he wasn’t the least bit threatening. His golden looks and green eyes were usually enough to gain invitation anywhere; and added to his natural charm, ladies tended to fall at his feet without much in the way of effort on his part.

  “Good morning, Lancaster,” Nibley said, shaking the man’s hand. “Might I introduce a friend of mine? this is August Bright, Lord Marchmain.”

  “Marchmain,” Lord Lancaster greeted him, shaking his hand in turn. “Benjamin Lancaster, pleased to know you. I hear you’re on the hunt for a wife, Nibley,” he said, turning his attention back to his lanky friend.

  Nibley coloured at that and took off his spectacles. Hunting through his pockets he withdrew a handkerchief and began to clean them with studious care. “I-I … I suppose so,” he stammered, looking desperately ill at ease.

  Lord Lancaster snorted and clapped him on the back. “No need to look so put out, old fellow, it comes to the best of us … well, not me,” he added, his tone dry as he winked at August. “But the succession has to be ensured for you poor devils. Lucky I’m the youngest son, eh?”

  August nodded. “That would take the pressure off, I imagine,” he admitted, wondering if his mother would nag him so hard if he had siblings to take some of the attention from him.

  “Actually, Ben, wondering if you’d do me a favour?” Percy piped up, getting to the point with more alacrity than August might have credited him with. “Do you know the young ladies sitting over there?”

  Lord Lancaster looked over to where the three women were breakfasting together and smiled. “I do, as it happens, the mother, at least.”

  “Mother?” August repeated, a little surprised.

  “Yes.” Lancaster grinned at him. “Hard to believe, I know, but that’s Mrs Cecilia Bridges. Her lovely double is actually her daughter, Caroline, the older girl I think is her step-daughter, Patience Pearson, though I’ve never met her before. Heard she guards the two of them somewhat ferociously, though. She has something of a reputation for being rather outspoken. Told old Bokko Bexley to go to the devil, apparently.”

  August gaped at him, rather impressed, in truth, as Lord Bexley was a bully and a nasty one at that.

  Lord Lancaster chuckled and winked at August. “She’s the one you need to charm if you’re going to have any chance with Caro.”

  Sighing, August gave Percy a doubtful look. Somehow he didn’t think Percy was ready to be charming, but still, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. “Would you be so good as to introduce us?” he asked, hoping Lord Lancaster wasn’t interested himself.

  “Certainly,” he replied, gesturing for them to follow him. “Cilly, that’s Mrs Bridges, she’s a good sort, lots of fun. Used to throw the most wonderful parties when her husband was alive.” August watched with interest as Mrs Bridges eyes lit up at the sight of Lord Lancaster.

  “Ben!” she exclaimed, lifting her cheek for a kiss. “It’s been forever, you naughty man, wherever have you been hiding yourself?” She paused then and lifted a hand, shaking her head and laughing. “On second thoughts, don’t answer
that, I’ve no doubt you’ll say something appalling just to shock me.”

  “As if I would, Cilly, darling,” Ben replied, his voice like silk as he turned on the charm. “May I introduce some friends to you,” he added, gesturing behind him. “This is Lord Nibley and Lord Marchmain.”

  Mrs Bridge’s greeted Percy and then her eyes warmed as she looked upon August, a smile curving over her mouth. “Lord Marchmain, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  August took her hand and lifted it to his lips, holding her gaze. “I hope you didn’t believe it,” he murmured, before kissing her fingers. Mrs Bridges laughed, clearly delighted with him.

  “Oh, I did, I’m afraid, every word.” She turned then, and finally August had the introduction he’d been longing for. “May I introduce my daughters. This is my step-daughter, Miss Pearson, and my daughter, Miss Bridges.”

  August bowed to the ladies, receiving a frosty look and a taut nod from Miss Pearson and a curious look from Miss Bridges.

  “Tell me, Lord Marchmain, what brings you to Bath before the end of the season?” Mrs Bridges asked with obvious curiosity. She might well ask, August thought with just a touch of bitterness, but after all, his deal with Beau had brought him here, so perhaps fate was being kind after all.

  “I fear we are both a little jaded after the excesses of a London season,” he replied with a warm smile. “Even the most fabulous entertainments pall after a while, it seems, and so we left early. My friend Nibley and I are simply seeking some convivial company, preferably in an atmosphere where one can hear oneself think,” he added with a dry laugh.

  “How delightful,” Mrs Bridges exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Then you must join us tomorrow for my little rout party.”

  “Cilly!”

  August raised an eyebrow as Miss Pearson hissed at her like a scalded cat.

  “Mama,” Miss Pearson rectified, somehow managing to moderate her tone and give August the evil eye at one and the same time. “I’m sure that such a man about town as Lord Marchmain has better things to do than join our little party,” she said, glaring at August with obvious enmity. “I’m afraid he would find it most dreadfully dull.”

  August bit back a smile and held Miss Pearson’s gaze. It seemed she had his measure and wasn’t about to let a handsome face distract her. Well, he’d see about that. “Au contraire,” August replied, perfectly aware that his eyes were full of devilry. “I would be delighted. We both would, wouldn’t we, Percy?”

  August looked around when Nibley didn’t back him up on this statement, and sighed when he discovered the glassy, dead fish expression was back in evidence. Then he realised why that was. Lord Nibley was in the throws of an all-encompassing infatuation … with August’s angel.

  ***

  “Out of the question!” August exploded as they made their way back to their lodgings after having bid goodbye to the ladies. “For starters, she’s well out of your league.”

  “No, she isn’t,” Percy objected, striding beside August like a well-groomed stick insect. “I-I’m a b-better prospect than you, and you know it.”

  August snorted and sent the man an unloving look. “On paper, perhaps,” he conceded. Everyone knew that Nibley was a rich man, after all, it didn’t mean the women were desperate to marry him, though. There were limits. A draughty castle in the wilds of Scotland and a husband who forgot to eat because rocks were so very fascinating to him being the two most pertinent. “In reality, a woman wants a man who knows what’s what, and I’m sorry, Percy, but with the best will in the world, that ain’t you.”

  Percy sighed but didn’t argue the point.

  “What did you think of Miss Pearson?” August asked, hoping to steer the man’s attention into safer waters.

  “Who?”

  August rolled his eyes as they turned to walk beside the river. “Miss Pearson. Her step-sister, for heaven’s sake.”

  Percy blinked and then frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t remember.”

  “How can you not remember her?” August demanded in astonishment. “I can still feel her eyes burning a hole in my head. She was positively vibrating with the need to round up her dear sister and mama and get them out of my sight.” In truth, it had been really rather amusing. Though he didn’t know why he found it funny, the blasted woman would clearly do everything in her power to keep him out of her sister’s company. Still, they had an invitation, and he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

  “What did she look like?” Percy asked, squinting as the sunshine glinted off his spectacles.

  August shrugged. “I don’t know, brown hair, brown eyes, a rather big nose,” he said, and then stopped as he realised he ought to be more complimentary to pique Percy’s interest. “There was a deal of intelligence in her eyes,” he added, trying to think of some plus points that weren’t an outright lie that would appeal to a man like Nibley. “In fact, I think her eyes were a rather lovely hazel, not brown, come to think of it.” Aubrey nodded, feeling quite pleased with himself. “She certainly has spirit, too, no wallflower, that one.” Percy frowned a little at that and Aubrey cursed. Wrong tact. He hurried on. “Though very pretty manners, quite as she ought to be.”

  “Hmmm,” said Percy. August sighed.

  ***

  “I can’t imagine what you were thinking, mama,” Patience said for the fifth time as they crossed Pultney Bridge. “Lord Marchmain, of all people!” Patience grabbed hold of Caro’s hand before she stepped out in front of a rather fast moving carriage, taking a moment to glare at her before moving forward once again.

  “Oh, do stop scolding, Patience, dear,” Cilly replied with a sigh as she lifted her skirts clear and skipped around a puddle from last night’s shower with dainty steps. “I’ve heard he’s the most amusing man, and so handsome, too,” she said with a pleased glint in her eyes.

  Patience made a sound of disgust. “Yes, and the worst rake in the south of England,” she muttered, shaking her head.

  “No, no,” Cilly replied, her expression quite serious. “I rather believe he’s one of the best.”

  “Mama!” Both Patience and Caro exclaimed in shock as Cilly trilled with laughter.

  “Oh, do stop being such a stick in the mud, Patience. I’m not suggesting Caro go out and marry him. She has far more sense than that, don’t you, darling?”

  Cilly and Patience both turned to look at Caro, who gave a grave nod. Patience snorted.

  “I do, too!” Caro retorted, folding her arms and looking mutinous.

  “No, you don’t,” Patience replied, her voice firm. “You’d only need gaze into those lovely green eyes for a few seconds and you’ll believe yourself head over heels in love with the wretched man.”

  Caro stopped in her tracks, glaring at Patience. “I didn’t notice his eyes were green. Did you, mama?”

  Cilly raised her eyebrows and smirked a little. “No, actually. I didn’t either.”

  Patience flushed and put her chin in the air, walking past them with an imperious toss of her head. “Then you must both be blind as well bird-witted.”

  “So you do admit he’s handsome, then?” Cilly demanded, as her and Caro had to walk fast to keep up with Patience’s longer strides. There were some advantages to being unfashionably tall.

  “Of course I admit it,” Patience said, feeling exasperated now. There was little point in denying that August Bright was the most glorious-looking man on God’s green earth. He looked as sunny and golden as his name would imply, and any intelligent woman would steer far and wide from him for fear of the havoc he might wreak on their sanity. Sadly of the three of them, only she could see the danger. “That does not mean I wish to further the acquaintance of a man with a shocking reputation. Think of the damage he could do to Caro.”

  “Oh, pooh,” Cilly replied with a wave of her little gloved hand. “I’m not about to leave them alone together. You will both be well-chaperoned at all times.”

  “Oh?” Patience said, her tone dark. “And who
’s going to chaperone you?”

  Cilly flushed and sent Patience an indignant look. “I am a twice-married lady, I might remind you, Patience, and whilst I would be the first to admit I’m not as clever as you, I do know a thing or two about men.”

  Patience looked away, a little mortified by the set-down. “Forgive me, Mama,” she said, chastised. “I forgot myself.”

  Cilly laughed and reached out, taking her hand. “No, you didn’t, darling girl. You were protecting us both from our silliness, as you always do. But have a little faith, Patience. Sometimes it’s alright to have some fun. If you have no fun at all, that’s when you’re most in danger of doing something truly reckless. After all, all work and no play …” she chided, though there was sweetness and affection in her eyes.

  Patience laughed and nodded. “I know, I know, makes Patience a real nag.”

  Chapter 3

  “Wherein swords and ostrich feathers clash.”

  Patience had to admit that Cilly’s rout party was a grand success. They’d only been here a mere ten days, but somehow Cilly had managed to befriend the most select members of society and bring them all together. Not that Patience was surprised. Cilly, like Caro, was full of vivacity and life and laughter. They were both a joy to be around, if wearying, after a while. She had often longed for a little of their easy charm and love of life and people. Patience felt herself to be all prickles, always on the defensive, and cynical with it. Not that she wanted to be, only that she had seen enough of life to believe that you trusted people at your peril. Cilly had been crushed twice now, by the deaths of the men she’d loved. Patience had seen, too, the destruction wrought by an unfaithful husband when one of their dearest friends had discovered her own faithless wretch had run away with one of the housemaids. He’d come back, of course, and his wife had no option but to allow it and pretend it didn’t matter. Only it did matter. Privately, Patience had thought the woman ought to take revenge on the devil. Preferably involving the use of a carving knife, or possibly a meat clever, but then Cilly had always accused her of having a bloodthirsty nature. Her mama and sister found her love for Gothic novels quite incomprehensible, but then neither one of them could sit still long enough to read a page, let alone a whole book.