Page 22 of The Gift of Patience
“Fielding and Cholmely should be arriving today. I have sent for them and hopefully they will bring something useful. Unfortunately, now, we must consider all possibilities.”
“I was about to send off a note to my father. I can include our request for anyone with knowledge of that shipment. It should not be a long list.”
Patience could not identify that voice, though she thought that was Manners speaking.
“I would make a suggestion if I may, sir,” Major Stuart said.
“Of course. I am open to anything at this point,” the colonel said.
“I think it prudent to expand our investigation into the village. Since the rest of you are unknown here, it would be easier for you to infiltrate with the locals. Westwood even suggested a couple might go across the river near those docks.”
“An excellent notion. Very well then. Manners will request information from his father, Baines will continue to work on our captive, the rest of you will need to gather disguises, and Westwood can tell you which taverns are most likely to yield information, keeping in mind, this began at least two months ago. The gang may not be staying at the tavern, but I would wager they are stopping in for their ale.”
“And more,” Patience muttered in her most derogatory tone. She knew all about what men went to taverns for.
“I could perhaps go to the other side of the river and not be recognized. I’ve spent very little time there,” Stuart offered.
“Is there a great deal of traffic back and forth across right here, as there is in London?”
“A fair bit,” Westwood conceded.
“I am not certain it’s worth the risk, but as we do not have Fielding and Cholmely, yet, I could use you.”
“I will go and see to rounding up disguises,” Stuart offered.
“There should be plenty between the grooms and stable hands. Ask Chauncy,” Westwood said to his brother.
Patience realized too late that Major Stuart was leaving the room. She turned to go, but two warm, large hands grabbed her around the waist.
She gasped at not only the impertinence, but the warmth that flooded through her body at his touch.
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Do not even think about going yourself.” She spun about in his arms, having every intention to be indignant, which she quickly realized was a mistake. It took every ounce of fortitude she had to try to mask her reaction, and was quite certain she did not succeed.
She had never been in a man’s arms, and the contrasts were striking. She felt overwhelmed by his height, his hardness, and his scent. She dared to look up into his eyes, which were darkened with an intensity she had never seen before. Was it anger? She didn’t feel afraid of him. Could it be desire? Or was that only what she wished it were? He seemed to realize their compromising position before she did and stepped away.
“If I had known that was how to make you speechless, I would’ve done it long ago,” he drawled.
Arrogant beast. He knew the effect he had on her, but now she wondered if he was not completely immune to her charms.Oh, she’d no doubt he did not wish to be attracted to her. She reciprocated that sentiment very much.
“I meant what I said, Patience. You are not to interfere. Give me your word.”
“Or you will lock me in the stables with your prisoner?”
“Don’t give me ideas.”
With a swish of her skirts, she flashed him a devilish smile and walked away. If her hips were swinging more than normal, well, he deserved the torture.
Ashley watched her go,appreciating the show she no doubt was putting on for his benefit, then took a moment to steady his nerves.
Patience Whitford was trouble, and he needed to stay far away from her. She was not for him. But how easy it had been to forget when she was in his arms. Clearing his head of the temporary spell she’d cast on him, he set off to ask Armstrong for extra groom and stable hand attire.
“Devilish, meddling females.” If she’d been born a man, she would have made an excellent officer, but it was not his fault God had chosen to make her a girl, so why should she constantly plague him?
When Ashley returned from requesting the clothing, Fielding and Cholmely had arrived. He could hear them briefing Renforth and the others, filling them in on the proceedings so far.
Ashley chuckled when he heard Cholmely’s reaction to having to dress like a stable hand and move to the local tavern.
“All for a good cause, my friend,” Ashley said as he strode into the room. He held up their new costumes. “We will need todirty them a bit. Unfortunately, we will have to wear our own boots. There’s no having those made in time.”
