Tempting Miss Allender (Regency Rakes 3) (5 page)

Would Mathew be there? She had thought about him and what had happened after the animal husbandry talk. He had said he wanted friendship with her, but then when Anthony’s name was brought into the conversation he had seemed to change before her eyes. He had rubbed his chest, almost as if the memory of his brother caused him physical pain. How could he want friendship when being near her caused him discomfort? She certainly felt discomfort being near him, but hers was of a different kind.

The Belmont town house was in the smartest part of town, and had six white front steps that the Allender family climbed to reach the front door. Lucy and Charlie were excited, while Patience was looking forward to seeing Claire and Lady Belmont, and hoped Mathew was absent.

“Good afternoon. We are expected,” Patience said to the butler who opened the door.

“Of course, Miss Allender. Please allow me to take your things, and then I shall take you to the family.”

The house was large and grand, with a tiled entranceway leading to a circular stairway. The walls were cerulean blue, with delicate lemon-colored scrollwork around the edges and a large gilt mirror offering new arrivals a glimpse of themselves, to check that their appearance was as it should be.

After handing over their bonnets, the Allenders followed the butler to the stairs. Paintings of birds and scenery hung at eye level, and their steps were muffled by the soft blue-toned carpets as they climbed. On the second level they found lighter blue walls and several elegant-legged side tables filled with small plates and figurines.

“Their house in Hampshire had this many ornaments on display. Do you remember, Patience?”

“I do,” she replied to Lucy as they followed the butler down the hallway.

“Who is that?”

Patience followed Charles’ finger upwards to where the portrait of an austere-looking gentleman was gazing down at them.

“He was Lord Belmont, before the one you met the other day, Charles.”

“Mathew?” He looked at Patience and she nodded her reply, instead of saying what she instinctively wanted to:
Please call him Lord Belmont.

They came to another room at the end of the hall. The butler opened the double doors, and they preceded him through.

“Patience!”

She just had time to brace herself as a very pregnant Lady Kelkirk hurried towards her. Throwing her arms wide, she embraced Patience.

“Lady Kelkirk.” Patience held her gently, feeling a rush of tenderness for the woman. Only a few years Patience’s junior, Claire had been so full of life, loud, funny, and loving. Patience had spent hours with Claire draped over her lap as she read her stories when she was a small child.

“Will you not call me Claire, or are you too angry with me to do so?”

Claire held Patience by the shoulders as she looked at her. Her brown eyes were clear, her skin soft and smooth, and she was still as beautiful as Patience remembered, even in the advanced stages of pregnancy—in fact, possibly more so. The woman positively glowed.

“Don’t be silly, Claire. There is nothing you need forgiveness for.”

“We did not acknowledge your parents’ deaths, and were not there to support you when you needed us, as you did for us after Anthony passed,” Claire said. “But that is about to change, as now our families are together once more.”

“It really is wonderful to see you,” Patience said, hugging her old friend again. She had not realized until now just how much she had missed her.

Claire took her hands as she looked from Patience to Lucy. “And you have both become so beautiful.”

“And pregnancy agrees with you, Claire. You are blooming.”

“Patience, my dear girl, can you forgive me?” Lady Belmont stepped forward as Claire released Patience, and once again she was clasped in a firm hug.

“Please, Lady Belmont, there is nothing to forgive. You were also grieving.” Patience inhaled the woman’s scent and remembered her mother. She felt the sting of tears as the warm arms held her closer. Her mother had hugged just like this, and she had not allowed herself to remember, but now it all came back to her in a wash of emotion.

“My dear, if only I could take a step backward in time, and not put your letter to one side, where I pushed it from my head. It was wrong of me, Patience, and my dear friend deserved more from me. She deserved that I mourn her and be there for her children when she could not. I fear my own grief robbed me of rational thought.”

“Please.” Patience fought back tears as she eased out of the woman’s arms. “There really is no need for you to feel that way. We were well supported,” she lied. “All that matters is that now we are here and I wish to catch up on all your news.”

A hand cupped her cheek softly as Lady Belmont looked at her. “You were always such a sweet-natured girl.”

“Charles,” Patience said, waving her brother close. “Come and greet Lady Belmont, please.”

Her brother and sister were hugged and kissed also, and as likenesses were drawn between Charles and his father, Patience felt herself relax. Mathew was not here, and she could spend time with these two wonderful women, whom she had once cared for very much.

“Come, everyone, sit and we shall take tea.” Lady Belmont urged everyone into seats, and then rang the bell.

Patience let the memories come and go as they discussed the past and the future in the sunny parlor. Around them sunlight dappled the silk-covered walls and bounced off polished furniture, and she felt at peace in the company of her old friends.

“And what of names, Claire? Have you settled on any?” Lucy asked.

“Anthony for a boy.”

“He was your brother, Claire, is that right?” Charlie asked.

“He was, and a wonderful man. We lost him nine years ago, and we all still miss him greatly.”

They were silent for a while as each one remembered the funny, smiling man that Anthony Belmont had been before he lost his life due to an injury he had sustained while serving his country.

Claire broke the silence. “Do you remember when Mathew and Patience slipped into the kitchen and stole cook’s apple cake, then smuggled it up to the nursery?”

“Patience did that?” Charles looked at her in surprise, and Patience knew why. She was his sensible, responsible older sister now. They might tease each other, but she never did anything reckless anymore and usually scolded him for doing what she once would have instigated.

“I remember.” Lucy clapped her hands together. “Mathew blamed one of the footmen, and had to tell the truth when your cook made their life miserable.”

The tea arrived, and soon Charles had a large slice of Shrewsbury cake in his hand as he lounged in a chair.

“Simon and Louis will arrive soon, Charles. He is younger than you, but I’m sure you shall get on handsomely,” Lady Belmont said.

“Is he a cousin of yours, Claire?” Lucy looked at Lady Kelkirk.

“He is my nephew,” she said with a soft smile. “Anthony’s son, and as you will see, the likeness is quite remarkable.”

Lucy sent Patience a questioning look, and she wondered when they had missed Anthony’s marriage and who the mother was, but neither said anything.

“Are you and Lucy both seeking husbands, Patience?”

The questioned surprised her so much she choked on her tea, then upended the rest of her cup over the bodice of her dress. Looking down at her damp front, Patience hastily pulled the handkerchief from her reticule and attempted to pat it dry.

“They have been here such a brief time, sister, and already you are upsetting our guests.”

And that was all Patience needed to further ruin what had been a lovely day. She didn’t look up as Mathew walked into the room.

“I am sorry, Patience. I did not mean to startle you.”

“It’s all right, Claire, really,” Patience said as she looked at Claire and saw her distress was genuine. “I’m sure I tossed you in the horse trough a time or two in our youth, so I shall consider it payback.”

“You did. However, I still had no right to question you that way. If possible, pregnancy has loosened my tongue even further.”

“Your tongue has always been loose, sister.” A large handkerchief appeared before her.

“No, that won’t do it, Mathew.” Claire waved it away. “Take Miss Allender somewhere and help her dry her dress, please, Bridgette.” Claire looked to the maid who was replenishing the tea.

Patience shot Mathew a quick look as she regained her feet. He was watching her, his eyes intent and taking in everything.

“Thank you. I shall return soon.”

The maid led her to what she presumed to be one of the many spare bedrooms in the house, where she helped Patience mop up the tea and did her best at drying the dress.

“I shall take you back to where the family is waiting now, Miss Allender,” the maid said later, when it had nearly dried.

“There is no need,” Patience motioned for the maid to leave without her. “I know the house and can find my way back, thank you.”

She wasn’t in any hurry to return to the others now that Mathew was here. Charlie and Lucy would be safe with the Belmonts. Patience left the room, made her way along the hallway and took the stairs upward. There was a gallery up there; she’d seen it once when she’d visited Lady Belmont with her mother.

She walked into the long, high-ceilinged room seconds later. The lower half of the wall was paneled wood, the upper emerald; it was a calming, restful space that would give her a few minutes alone. She walked slowly down the strip of carpet in the center of the polished wood floors with the light from the many windows at her back.

Looking up, she found the last Lord Belmont looking down on her once more, the very image of his eldest son. Next was Lady Belmont, then Mathew. Patience stopped to study the portrait—his green eyes appeared to be laughing at her, yet his mouth remained stern. It was a wonderful likeness. Pulling her eyes from his handsome face, she moved on to his sister.

As a child Claire had always spoken whatever thought was in her head, and it appeared not much had changed. Patience knew that while Claire had apologized for asking about her matrimonial prospects, when the moment presented itself she would do so again. If she remembered anything about Claire, it was her persistence.

Walking on, Patience looked for the other Belmont sibling, Anthony, but saw no sign of him. There were older ancestors, but not he. Why was Anthony not up here with his family? The thought disturbed her. Patience had always liked him. His laughter had been infectious, and he had been a fun companion when they were children.

“My sister did not mean to upset you, Patience.”

She didn’t turn, even though her heart started to thud as Mathew approached. Instead, she kept her eyes on his ancestors.

“Because she is happy, she wants everyone else to be.”

“She looks happy,” Patience said, still looking up, “and it suits her.”

“I could not have wished for a better husband for her than Simon.”

“Yes. I met him only the once, yet he seemed a nice man.”

“So we are to continue on with polite conversation?”

“I think it best,” she said, moving a few paces away from him in the pretext of studying the next portrait.

“I’m told I look like my father, yet I always saw more of him in my siblings than in myself.”

He was beside her again, close enough that she could smell the outdoors on him. Sunshine and grass, flowers and horses; it all mingled into a tantalizing scent.

“Claire has his eyes, but there is little of me in my great-grandfather that I can see.”

“You are wrong there, my lord. I see a great deal of you in this painting, just as I see Anthony in his eyes.”

She felt him stiffen, almost as if he was bracing for something, and she asked the question that had been bothering her since she’d stepped into this room.

“Why is there no portrait of Anthony here?”

“Of all the things you could have said, I did not expect that one,” Mathew said as he ran his eyes over her. Her head was tilted back, her eyes focused on the portrait of his great-great-grandfather. Today’s dress was cream with tiny rosebuds, and her hair was held in place with a rose satin band. Curls formed a riot at the back of her head, and he wanted to touch one, pull it loose to see how far it would fall down her back.

“I’m sorry. If my question upsets you, please ignore it.” She spoke quickly, and he knew she was suddenly wishing the words unsaid.

When she had not returned, Mathew had excused himself and gone to find her. He’d sensed her discomfort at his presence as soon as he’d entered the parlor his mother had chosen for the reunion between their families. The haste with which she had followed the maid from the room had merely confirmed his thoughts.

He had talked with Charles and Lucy, teased his sister, and then he’d gone searching for the woman who had once been his friend and now consumed far too many of his thoughts.

“Anthony’s death caused my mother and sister a great deal of pain, so I had it taken down.”

Her eyes swung to his.

“But Anthony died many years ago, my lord. Surely he should be put up here once again where he belongs, with his family. I would think he would be happier looking down on you all. And would you not be happier seeing him there, also?”