Pascale Duguay (3 page)

Her companion turned into the inn’s courtyard. To her surprise he called to one of the hostlers to take care of the horses before proceeding to help her down. She had not counted on her benefactor stopping here himself. Buying a ticket onto the coach would be impossible if he stayed with her.

“I must thank you for your help, sir.” A loud rumbling sound coming from her stomach nearly drowned her words, causing a passing couple to stop and stare in surprise.

A pained expression crossed her companion’s face.

“It was no trouble, Miss Fairchild. Please allow me to buy you luncheon. You must be starved. I know I am.”

Even if Patience had not eaten since the previous night, for in her haste to be off she had forgotten to bring food with her, she had no intention of accepting an offer which had plainly been uttered merely to spare himself embarrassment. Before she had a chance to open her mouth, however, she found herself propelled into a crowded inn bustling with activity.

At their entrance, the innkeeper’s face turned in their direction. His desultory gaze skipped over Patience conveying the fact that he did not think her worthy of his personal attention. But when they alighted on her companion, his demeanour completely changed, and he nearly tripped over himself to reach the man’s side.

“My lord! It is an honour to have you here again! My private parlour is already bespoken, but I am sure we can make you quite comfortable nonetheless!”

“Then lead the way,” he said, relieving Patience of her valise.

A surprised look came over the innkeeper’s face, and he glanced at Patience sceptically. Patience guessed that he was not used to seeing “my lord” with apparently rankless persons. What a sore trial she must be to his consequence! She struggled to quell the bubble of laughter threatening to escape.

They were shown to a vacant table in a quiet part of the room. The innkeeper relieved “my lord” of his hat and gloves before turning to Patience to ask if she would like to put off her bonnet. She refused politely saying that as she was prone to colds, she would rather keep it on. Patience released a small sigh of relief when the innkeeper turned to “my lord” to propose various dishes for their luncheon. She had no intention of displaying her remarkable red curls until she was safely with her aunt.

While the two men discussed food, Patience took the opportunity to study the gentleman closely. Without his hat, he looked much less severe and haughty. In fact, she was forced to acknowledge that he was very handsome. Had he smiled at her the way he was now smiling at the innkeeper instead of forever frowning at her so, she would have found him quite irresistible. The stormy grey eyes, which had looked down at her with such disapproval, were now clear and bright, drawing her like a moth to a flame.

When the innkeeper left to see to their order, Patience found those grey eyes looking inquisitively at her. Feeling her cheeks grow hot, she quickly switched her attention to her surroundings. She gazed at the people around them. She fervently hoped she would not see anyone she knew from her own village. She was known by the whole community, having lived among them all her life. Several of them often came to Ventley on shopping expeditions since their own small town did not offer as much variety in terms of goods.

Especially none of that nature,
Patience noted, as a buxom young woman came to their table, two tankards of ale balanced on a platter. The low cut of her dress did not leave much to the imagination, especially when she bent lower than necessary to set their drinks on the table. She straightened and ignoring Patience, gave a sly look and a wink to “my lord” before turning back, her hips swishing in a most provocative manner.

Is that female also well known to the gentleman
? Patience wondered as she caught his gaze following the serving maid’s departure. As starchy as he appeared, he was obviously not above enjoying being seduced by village wenches.

“Did you find something to amuse you?”

Patience found her rescuer’s gaze upon her and immediately replaced the smirk that must have appeared on her face with what she hoped was an innocent look.

“I was simply enjoying the sights.”

She detected an amused gleam in his eyes, and for a moment, she was certain he would laugh out loud. However, he chose to stifle the impulse, and she was disappointed to see him revert to his serious self once more.

“Where were you planning to inquire for a new position?” he asked switching to a safer topic.

“I have heard that there is something available not very far from here,” Patience answered vaguely.

“Maybe I know the employer in question,” he insisted.

“I doubt it. The lady is a recluse and rarely leaves her home.”

Fortunately, the serving maid returned to their table just then, putting an end to their conversation. A hearty soup was placed before them with warm bread fresh from the oven and a large chunk of cheese. The maid repeated her earlier seduction but Patience, who now found her whole attention absorbed by the sight of the food, could not be bothered with the coy display. She was suddenly ravenous and the smells wafting from her bowl were no less than heavenly to someone who had walked for miles and not eaten for hours.

Lord Rutherford was relieved when the serving maid finally left them to their meal. He had found her little act amusing, but no more. His preferences in such matters lay in quite a different direction. He was used to bedding a very different type of female.

He turned to Miss Fairchild and watched her dig into her bowl enthusiastically. He forbore to continue the conversation while they ate. The more he gazed at her, the more he became distracted by her pearly white teeth tearing off pieces of the bread while her full, rosy lips slid most sensuously over the spoon. The sight was strangely arousing. He found he had to suppress a groan when her tongue darted out to capture a crumb at the corner of her mouth. How could such a small and plainly dressed woman exude such sensuality and charm without even trying? The serving maid, for all her evident expertise, had not succeeded half as well in capturing his attention.

When Miss Fairchild had eaten her fill, she gave a contented sigh and threw him a warm smile.

“I cannot thank you enough for all you have done. I am sorry if I have inconvenienced you in any way.”

“It was nothing at all. But as I have to be on my way, I must take my leave of you now.” The Earl rose. He did not think he could stand another minute of this enchantress’ company. Either he left right now, or gave in to the urge to cast her over his shoulder and take her to the nearest bed.

“Please, do not let me keep you, then.”

Patience watched with mixed feelings as her rescuer strode to the counter to settle for their meal. She had enjoyed the brief time they had spent together. He may have acted high in the instep, but she had a feeling there was much more to this man than he was willing to show, especially to a total stranger like herself. The rare glimpses of amusement she had caught in his eyes had only served to make her want to crack his severe countenance all the more. The man definitely led much too serious a life and could use a person like herself around him.

He exited the building and Patience shrugged off her musings. She had a mission to accomplish. How the man chose to live his life was none of her concerns. She hurried over to the ticket booth to buy her seat on the stagecoach. She found that her purchase had left her with only a few shillings. But as the coach would bring her to her final destination, she had no need of money anyway. Miss Thimble had been worried for no reason. In fact, she would likely be extremely happy with her pupil right now. Patience had not been in a single scrape!

Smiling, she picked up her bag and walked out the door — and collided directly with the person coming in. “Oh! Pardon me, sir! I should have watched where I was going.”

“What a wonderful surprise!”

Patience could have sunk underneath the floorboards when she looked up into the portly face of the man whom her father had chosen for her future husband. His beady eyes roamed over her body while his groping hands squeezed her waist. These would probably have wandered lower had she not swiftly backed away.

“Sir Rupert, how nice to see you,” Patience managed through her clenched jaw.

Sir Rupert’s beady eyes continued their casual perusal, scanning her body from head to feet, making Patience itch to slap his face. The man acted as if she were his already.

“What brings you to town?” asked Sir Rupert, managing to grab hold of her elbow and pawing it in a most disagreeable way.

“Oh, I — I just came to buy a new bag and a few knickknacks.” She motioned to the bag she was holding.

“Getting ready for the big day, I see!” The old man gave her a knowing wink, which had her almost in a panic. “You should have told me you were planning to come. I would have been delighted to offer you a ride in my carriage. But I suspect you came with your father. Where is the old scamp?”

Patience suddenly realized two things: one, that the stagecoach had just arrived and two, that her luncheon companion who should have been long gone was now standing at her other elbow, a questioning look on his face.

“Actually, I came with my cousin, Mr…er…Brown,” she said after glancing at the man’s tan coat.

Lord Carlton nodded at her companion. “How d’you do? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of the Brown family before.”

“That’s because he is related to my mother’s side of the family,” intervened Patience before “Mr. Brown” could place in a word.

“Ah, I expect that would account for it. I did not know your mother very well, especially since she passed away so soon after bringing you into the world.”

Patience winced at Sir Rupert’s comment. Hopefully her Mr. Brown would not remember that her mother had also died of a fever a year before. During this exchange, a few people climbed out of the stagecoach while others settled in. Bags and valises were being taken off the coach while others were loaded on. Patience could not climb aboard the vehicle with both Sir Rupert and her companion watching her. The minutes passed, but the old man just would not go away. With a sinking heart, Patience watched as the steps were put up and the horses whipped into action.

“I will let you finish your shopping now.” Sir Rupert leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Make sure to include something pretty for me, dearie. I look forward to the big day!” He leered at her in a most provoking manner before releasing her elbow and taking his leave.

If Patience had not been in such a hurry, she would probably have indulged in the urge to heave her lunch on the old man’s shoes. What a disgusting creature! She could not wait to put as much distance as possible between herself and that lecher. But before that could be accomplished, there was still the small matter of boarding the quickly disappearing stagecoach.

She turned to her companion, “My lord, I find I must ask for another favour. Would you very much mind taking me up in your phaeton and chasing after that coach?”

To her chagrin, he shook his head. “If I am to revert to being a lord again, I am afraid that men of my status do not go chasing after coaches. Now, if you will move out of my way, I believe I may have dropped one of my gloves inside.”

Patience reluctantly stepped away from the inn’s entrance to allow him to re-enter the building. Surely, a man of his “status” would not abandon a helpless female in need of assistance? Hadn’t he proven this to be true already by taking her up in his phaeton when she was limping on the side of the road and again when he’d offered her luncheon? Although the offer had sprung mostly to save himself from embarrassment, he had assisted her nonetheless. She could tell him that she had changed her mind about accepting the post here; that after he had left her, she had gone to get her ticket for the coach, but the sudden appearance of her acquaintance had distracted her so much that she had missed her chance to get on it. If he would just help her one more time, he would have her promise that he would never have to do so again. Yes, that was exactly what she would tell him. All that was left to do now was wait for his return.

The minutes ticked away while the dust the stagecoach had left in its wake slowly settled down. Patience paced the length of the building. What was the man doing? Maybe she should go in and help him look for his missing glove. Just as she was about to act on the thought, she saw him stroll toward her, pulling on his gloves in a leisurely manner. She did not wait for him to reach her side however. Ignoring her blistered foot, she ran to meet him.

“Please my lord, will you not reconsider? It is imperative that I get on that coach!”

“Why is that?”

When Patience opened her mouth to speak he held up a hand, “No, do not bother answering. I am sure you will tell me another very entertaining story with not a grain of truth to it. First, you have a mother who dies twice in very different circumstances. Next, you are planning to travel by coach when before you were simply going on a shopping expedition before applying for a new post. I daresay you will now disclose that you are running away from an unwanted suitor!”

The cynical tone of his voice and the hard look in his stormy grey eyes told Patience all she needed to know. In fact, she could not blame him. She had told him so many lies that the truth would only sound like another fairy tale. Nothing would be gained by continuing this conversation, she decided. It was a pity they had to part on such unfriendly terms. But they were strangers, after all, and would have to remain so even should she chance to see him once she was in London. Giving him a slight curtsy, she spun around and, head held high, limped inside the inn where she went to inquire about the next coach.

As she had suspected, it would not arrive until the following day. The next obvious step was to approach the innkeeper. That worthy man had been all amiability before. Perhaps he would let her work for her keep, just for this one night. Delaying her arrival at Hawkridge Manor by one more day would not make much of a difference. If all went well at home, her father would not know about her disappearance for yet another day maybe even more. He would probably think she was closeted in her room out of spite.

The only thing that could possibly foil her plans was if her father happened to talk to Sir Rupert. His crony would be sure to tell him he had seen her here today. But there was no point worrying about that. She had not come this far to give up now. The alternative was unthinkable. She really had no choice but to continue. If it were not for her blistered foot, she would not have hesitated to walk all the way to Lady Rutherford’s home, even if it took her all night to get there.

Patience caught sight of the innkeeper entering a room at the end of the hallway. She followed him and found herself in a private parlour. Its previous occupants had gone and the innkeeper, standing next to a long table at the other end of the room, was stacking dirty dishes onto a tray. As his back was to the door, she walked up to the man to make her presence known.

“Excuse me, sir. I seem to have missed the stagecoach. I will need a room for the night. I see you have a busy establishment here. I am sure you could use some help. Would you accept labour in exchange for a bed?”

Lord Rutherford, curious to know what Miss Fairchild intended to do next, had quietly followed her back inside and now watched this exchange from the doorway unnoticed. He propped one shoulder against the doorframe and crossed his booted feet at the ankles, settling in for the upcoming scene.

The innkeeper put down the plate he had been holding and wiped his hands on a rag while his eyes travelled the full length of her short but voluptuous body.

“We could probably use your services in the kitchens, and I happen to have a comfy bed upstairs once we close down for the night.”

The Earl observed the vivid blush sweeping up Miss Fairchild’s cheeks as the man’s meaning sank in.

“I think you misunderstand me, sir! I simply wish to do honest work in exchange for a room of my own.”

“Here now, no need to put on airs with me, missy! A female travelling alone is fair pickings, as I’m sure you very well know. Besides, as you seem to have lost the protection of your gent, looks to me like you can’t be too picky as to who shares your bed tonight, eh?”

The innkeeper took a step toward her just as the Earl deemed it time for him to intervene. However, Miss Fairchild’s next move took both men completely by surprise as her bag hit the innkeeper squarely on the nose. Since the fellow did not have the good sense to duck the blow aimed at his head, a loud crack along with the jingling of glass bottles resonated throughout the room. The innkeeper let out a yelp of pain and bent over double holding on to his bleeding nose.

“You’ve broken by dose, you bloody witch! Just you wait ’til I get by hands on you!”

Lord Rutherford, feeling somewhat sorry for the innkeeper, left his post by the doorway and came to stand next to Miss Fairchild.

“That will not be necessary.”

In spite of the gravity of the situation, Patience had to stifle a giggle.

“Come, Belinda.”

The imperious tone with which he uttered these two simple words caused her legs to move of their own volition. When she reached his side, he relieved her of the bag. Taking hold of her elbow, he steered her outdoors toward his waiting phaeton where, to her dismay, he assisted her aboard. After settling himself next to her, he motioned for the hostler to let go of the horses’ heads. But instead of dashing off at top speed to catch up with the stagecoach, as Patience had suspected he would, he set off at the same brisk trot as before.

“You will not be able to overtake the coach at this pace,” Patience pointed out.

“It does not signify since it was not my intention. As I told you previously, I do not go chasing after coaches. Had you not run off in a miff, you need not have found it necessary to break that unfortunate man’s nose.”

Patience’s spine stiffened. “Humph! That
unfortunate
man deserved much more in my opinion!”

“Maybe so, but as he rightly pointed out, you had placed yourself in a most precarious position.”

Patience, not wanting to concede the point, refrained from responding. How dare he admonish her as if she were merely a schoolroom chit instead of a woman on the verge of turning one-and-twenty? To top it all off, this whole episode could have been avoided had he just made the least push to stop her from making a cake of herself.

Only one other person had ever succeeded in making her feel this way. Thankfully, Julius Rutherford, that most pompous and sanctimonious of young men, was long gone from her life. She had not thought of him in years. The fact that she was presently on her way to his estate must be causing these long-forgotten memories to resurface so annoyingly. However, she doubted very much that he would be in residence. Like most of the ton, he would have removed to London for the Season. Moreover, he was most likely married by now. She could well imagine him at this very moment lecturing his browbeaten wife on how to comport herself correctly while in his presence. The poor woman!

They spent the next half-hour travelling in silence. Patience pretended to be too absorbed by the scenery to take any notice of her companion. But as it was not in her nature to bear grudges, no matter how provoking a certain person might be in delighting in always being right, she was soon able to see the humorous side of the situation.

After a moment, she unbent enough to say, “I suppose I should thank you for rescuing me.”

“What makes you think you have been rescued? For all you know, I could be a worse monster than that innkeeper or your admirer pawing you outside the Blue Boar!”

Patience paused. She did not know why she trusted him either, but for some reason she felt safe with him. Still, she attempted to put her feelings into words, “First of all, that was not my admirer. Secondly, I am nowhere near as enticing as that serving maid, who I am sure would have been more than willing to accommodate you. And thirdly, I am convinced that if you had meant me harm, you would have done it at the outset.”

“I might simply be waiting for the appropriate moment.”

Patience almost laughed out loud at the image of her stiff-and-proper lord casting all propriety aside at the first opportunity to take advantage of her. That seemed as likely as her father giving up gambling or Sir Rupert donating all his money to charity.

“And what would you consider an appropriate moment?” Patience could not help herself from asking nor could she contain the giggle that burst forth.

Her merriment was soon replaced by puzzlement as her companion slowed the horses to a standstill by the side of the road before securing the reins.

“Is something the matter?” Her breath caught in her throat as she met his heated gaze.

He placed a finger under her chin and brought his face closer to hers. “I believe the appropriate moment is now.”

Before Patience could react, his lips melded with hers.

Patience was jolted by the sudden sensations coursing through her. She found herself responding and melted against his hard body. His arms wrapped about her and Patience lost all sense of time and place as his mouth did wonderful things to hers. The kiss, which had begun as a soft, gentle caress, now grew to an ardent pressing of the lips. When his tongue slid over her mouth, she gasped in surprise then froze as he first suckled and nibbled her upper lip, then moved on to the lower one. If Patience had not been wrapped so securely in her companion’s arms, her nerveless limbs would surely have caused her to slide out of the phaeton and onto the hard ground below.

They were suddenly interrupted by the sound of approaching horses. He stiffened and wrenched his mouth away then removed his arms from her body and slid to the other end of the seat moments before a sporting vehicle passed them at full speed. Grabbing the reins just in time, he steadied the horses, which had taken fright at this unexpected appearance.

Patience, still under the spell of the kiss, barely managed to grasp the railing on the side of the phaeton to keep herself from falling out. She very much doubted whether the driver had even noticed their presence by the side of the road, hidden as they were among the foliage. Nonetheless, her amorous admirer had completely vanished. Sitting at her side once more was Lord Stiff-and-Proper.