Sea Scoundrel (26 page)

“Thank you dear.” Her aunt made to pat her hand but Patience pul ed it away so fast, regret stabbed her at her aunt’s hurt.

Two strained days passed before they were able to share a normal conversation after that uncomfortable episode. “Are you aware,” Harriette whispered, “That Rose is likely in the family way?”

Patience al but wilted. “I have thought of nothing else for the past week, ever since returning from Arundel. And I could weep for thinking of the consequences. She was il the day we were gone and then again the next morning. When I went to see if I could help, she told me she suspected as much and cried in my arms. I am at my wits end as to what to do. She wil give me none of the particulars and how else may I help her?”

Harriette examined Patience’s face with distress. “No blushes child?”

Patience had no control over the heat that made a slow journey from her neck to her forehead. If she were to touch her ears, she knew they would be warm. “Aunt.”

“Thank goodness, there
are
blushes left.”

“I can’t imagine why my blushes matter one way or the other. Rose is the one with the problem. Did she confide in you?”

“With her room so close, I could hear she was quite il and went to her. Though I helped her and she cried, she never spoke of it and I did not ask. I believe she realized I understood.”

The ironic image of her Aunt as warm and understanding pushed aside, Patience worried about Rose. “She has done nothing but cry since the day she boarded the
Knave’s Secret
and now it is worse. I have asked her if expecting a child out of wedlock is the reason she cried so much when we left, but she says she was not breeding when we departed if, in fact, she is now. I suspect the father is Shane, Grant’s brother, yet I considered him such an honorable man. But then, Grant is honorable and he—” Patience knew her blush rose once more but she refused to respond to the worry on her Aunt’s face. “Everything wil come about.”

“I’m not certain about this problem with Rose, Patience. But I have considered it and I do think we’l get your other young ladies settled creditably.”

“Thank you, Aunt Harriette,” Patience said, and she meant it.

After a week of observing her new charges, Aunt Harriette assembled the girls. She stood before them, and looked from one face to the other before speaking.

Al her years of practice had Patience mental y preparing for battle.

“A more stunning group of women, I could never imagine,” her aunt said.

The breath Patience had been holding, escaped.

“To think that you al look to
me
for help. It is quite daunting, but I vow, it is an honor I wil try very hard to earn. I cannot begin to do justice to the unique beauty I find before me. I must confess that after speaking with and observing you, I cannot find one thing I particularly dislike. As a matter of fact I have discovered extraordinarily wonderful facets among you and I feel I must begin our much-needed lessons by pointing out your good points first, if you wil indulge me.”

Though Aunt Harriette was probably not a stone tal er than her, Patience never considered her of smal stature. She’d always seemed imposing and in complete control. And the day she’d brought her from Arundel, Patience saw that the children Aunt Harriette taught, and those who employed her, held her in high regard. Now, in a short time, she had become more than the girls’ chaperone.

Though for the sake of their lessons, Aunt Harriette insisted each girl cal her Lady Belmont, they took to her as if she were aunt to them al . These things puzzled Patience even as her Aunt spoke.

“What I am about to say is the absolute truth,” Aunt Harriette said. “Please keep it in mind at al times as you go out into society. More to the purpose, you mustn’t forget these points later as I indicate the errors you display in preparation.”

She turned to the quietest. “Grace, I shal start with you. You are graceful, caring and giving. A warm young woman with much love to share, your beauty is like a soft beacon that draws people to you. It is evident as it shines in your lovely large eyes and within your radiant smile. Any man who gets you wil win a prize beyond measure. Never forget that and hold your head with pride.”

Patience had never been so surprised. It must be a trick.

Aunt Harriette spoke to each in turn. She said Sophie’s exuberance and optimism in any situation seemed to infect the people around her as did Angel’s happiness and natural charm.

Patience opened her mind and heart and began to see her aunt in a new light.

Rose, with the classic beauty admired by any man, was far and above the most beautiful of face and figure, yet in disposition she suffered great deficiency, yet her aunt made Rose glow with praise so that everyone tended to forget the other.

A long-forgotten contentment in regards to Aunt Harriette entered Patience’s soul and she was not a little surprised by it. Had she, at some point in time, been loved by her aunt? Had she realized and accepted it? Before her parents died, perhaps?

Patience opened her heart.

To her absolute amazement, Aunt Harriette found the unique golden core of each girl and brought it out for them al to exclaim over and examine. She expected Aunt did it so each girl might have pride in herself.

The self-confidence Aunt Harriette handed out was precise and perfectly suited to the individual. Self-assurance shown on the girls’ faces and happiness for them bubbled within Patience.

“Now for my niece.”

Patience jumped as if a cannon cracked. The moment of reckoning. The criticism.

“You, young woman—” Aunt Harriette paused, as if considering her words. “My flame-haired, freckle-faced niece, are too bold, too impatient and much too forward and impetuous for your own good.”

Just as she’d thought. This was the harridan she remembered. The girls’ faces reflected dismay. Patience gave them al a smug, I-told-you-so look.

A tril of laughter surprised her. Aunt Harriette, laughing?

Patience had never seen the like. Gaiety suddenly gone, eyes fil ed with tears, her aunt whispered, “And I love you, my dear child, so very much.”

Oh. Oh no. She was not prepared for this. She couldn’t meet this, to admit she might care, when she’d hardened her heart so long. It was impossible.

Patience bolted, and just as quickly stopped at the bottom of the stairs, indecision rending her in two. Dashing tears from her eyes, she reluctantly returned to the drawing room.

Head down, she stopped to stand mutely before her Aunt’s chair. When she final y looked up, Aunt Harriette’s look begged for love.

Pain shot through Patience. How wel she knew that particular, desperate need. She knew it so wel that a sob broke and she knelt, skirts settling, to throw her arms around her aunt. “I’m sorry. So sorry.” Aunt Harriette pul ed her into an embrace and rocked her like a smal child with a big hurt, shushing her, consoling her, both their faces wet with tears. Patience could smel her aunt’s Lavender and with it came the memory of other hugs, other such moments.

Patience smiled when her aunt cupped her face and looked deeply into her eyes. “You have done nothing wrong, child,” she said. “I should have told you I loved you a long time ago. Can you find it in your heart to forgive a selfish old woman many, many mistakes?”

Patience swiped at her eyes. “Only if you’l forgive a sil y child many more?”

The girls dabbed at wet eyes one second and laughed the next.

Male laughter intruded. “You look like Bedlamites gone over the wal in someone else’s finery.” Shane! Smiling, shaking his head, he leaned on the door frame, arms crossed, his big brown eyes trained on one person. Rose.

Al activity stopped. The girls stared in surprise. Not a sound could be heard save the ticking of the clock on the mantle.

When Rose’s bodice ruffle tore, as a result of her nervous twisting, the tear was so loud, everyone breathed again.

Patience welcomed Shane with a hug.

The girls ate up his witty greetings, but he never stopped watching Rose, or she him. It was obvious he wished nothing more than to take her in his arms. Patience wondered why he did not.

Final y he moved toward the object of his warmth. “I missed you, Rose.” He said it more in the way of a friend than a lover, and Patience was disappointed, as Rose seemed to be.

“I brought you a present from America,” he said. “Wait here and I’l get it.”

He’d final y singled Rose out, and it was obvious from her blush, she was pleased.

Though everyone was eager, quite fifteen minutes passed, and yet Shane did not return.

Patience stepped toward the doorway. “I’l go find out what’s keeping—” She backed from the door so Shane could enter the room.

Rose screamed.

Frightened by the scream, the baby in Shane’s arms began to wail.

“Amy! My baby, my beautiful girl.” Rose took the child from Shane and planted kisses on the little one’s face. “You brought Amy. Oh, my God. Oh, Shane.” Rose held the infant close as she sobbed openly, joyful y.

Shane led Rose to the settee, his arm about her shoulder.

He sat and pul ed her and her child against him, burying his face in Rose’s hair. Patience wanted to turn away at the look of love on Shane’s face, at the single tear on his cheek. When he closed his eyes in near-ecstasy, she did turn from a scene too intimate to witness.

She gazed out the window. The baby in Rose’s drawings had been her daughter, Amy. Rose had traveled with a broken heart, because she left her baby in America.

Harriette herded the girls from the room.

Patience turned to leave with them when a familiar arm came around her shoulders. She found herself looking up at Grant, at those crinkle lines and that irresistible smile. Her heart opened like a bud coming to flower. The drawing room door closed softly. Patience turned and melted into his embrace.

Rose’s agony of the past months was clear, and Patience’s soul was touched. With the surge of emotion on Rose’s behalf, as wel as her own inner rejoicing, no other haven would be perfect.

Grant sighed in contentment and held Patience tight. He’d stayed away for a week, since their trip to Arundel. He’d even sent his carriage for her to fetch her aunt alone. He’d managed two more days away, and, thank the Lord, Shane returned last night. The perfect excuse offered, he grabbed it like a lifeline and accompanied his brother here to Briarleigh this morning. He kissed the top of Patience’s head, neatly tucked under his chin. Between his real need to hold her, and his brother’s reunion with Rose, and Rose’s with her child, he was vulnerable and frightened. But Patience had this uncanny ability to calm him, and for a time, he would let her.

After a long embrace, Patience stepped away and turned toward Shane and Rose leaving him bereft.

Lost in a passionate kiss, they were oblivious to anyone else in the room, even to the tiny hands patting them. Grant reached for his lifeline once more.

“Let’s leave them alone,” Patience whispered.

“No, wait.” Shane’s husky voice stopped them.

Little Amy began to whimper. Rose tried unsuccessful y to calm her. Grant did not consider that a good sign. Even he could see it hurt Rose that her daughter did not respond to her. When Shane took Amy on his lap, the child settled down and stopped fussing. “We’ve been on a long voyage, Rose, where I was her only nursemaid,” Shane said.

Rose smiled wistful y. “I understand.”

“She’l get to know you, again. She’s al yours now. After living with your mother, it’s a wonder she has such a sweet disposition.”

Rose placed her hand in the child’s. When Amy grasped her mother’s finger, Rose smiled.

“Patience, this is my daughter,” Rose said. “I thought I would never see her again, which is why I cried so much.”

“I’m so happy you have her back, Rose,” Patience kissed Rose on the brow.

Rose looked into Shane’s eyes. “I can’t believe she’s here.

I’l never be able to thank you enough for bringing her to me.” Rose and Shane got lost in each other.

Grant cleared his throat. “We’l leave you alone.”

“No, Grant,” Shane said. “Patience and Rose should know.” Grant chose to ignore Shane’s words. He took Patience’s hand and headed for the door.

“For once in your life, big brother, sit down and listen!” With a sigh and a raised brow, he turned back toward his pesky little brother. They glared at each other for a minute then Grant gave up. He indicated Patience should sit and placed his chair beside hers. After he sat, he took her hand. That he planned to go about his life without this hand in his, disturbed him; that he would then be empty-hearted as wel as empty-handed, alarmed him, but he ignored the warning and tightened his hold, nodding for Shane to proceed.

Shane looked at Patience, then Rose. “Our mother left unexpectedly some years ago. We were young, but old enough to understand we’d been abandoned. It seemed as if she didn’t want us, which is very difficult for little boys to accept. After Rose confided that she left Amy with that puritanical mother of hers, I told Grant—”

“I had no choice! Mama sent me away and kept her.”

“We understand, Rose,” Patience said. “It was obvious to al of us you were being forced to leave. No one would think for a minute that you chose to leave your daughter behind.”

“Thank you, Patience.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear,” Shane said, squeezing her hand.

“I think this can wait.” There was an agitated edge to Grant’s voice.

“Wait forever, you mean. I want them to know.”

“You’re upsetting Rose,” Grant said, none to calmly.

Rose smiled, nearly a first. “I’m fine, real y.”

“See?” Shane’s look was smug. “Now, as I was saying, I told Grant about Amy. When Captain Davenport said he was on his way to Rhode Island, Grant got it in his head I should return for Amy. You have to realize that in giving up a splendid first mate,” Shane boasted, “a Captain makes more work for himself and the rest of his crew. So it was a sacrifice for Grant to be without me, but send me he did. He said Amy shouldn’t spend her life wondering why her mother left, wondering what she did to make her go. You see, we always thought it was
our
fault our mother left.