Page 34 of The Gift of Patience
“Let us go on towards the gate then, Xander.”
It was a fair distance and a bit of a climb up a hill. She stopped to catch her breath and rested a moment beneath the shade of a large oak tree whose leaves were beginning to turn a beautiful shade of yellow.
Xander took the opportunity to roam around sniffing when she heard him growl.
“Xander, come,” she whispered and crouched down beside him. “What is it, boy?”
They were getting close to the turnstile, so likely it was one of the grooms Westwood had put there to guard, but again she knew she should not have gone out alone. Certainly, she did not wish to be caught. She quieted the puppy by stroking behind his ears and tried to listen for what had made him growl.
She stood trying to see if it, in fact, could have been the posted guard. But even he was not visible. She took a few steps closer, but there was a large gorse bush obscuring her view. She stood on her tiptoes and could just see the top of someone’s hat. She could see the groom accepting what looked like a coin, but could not make out the other person. Drat!
She pushed down on the branches and leaned just a little more, then lost her balance and tumbled down the incline right into the path.
“Miss Whitford!” A nasally, familiar voice exclaimed.
Patience wanted to die.
Xander began growling and barking at Rupert.
“I’ll say! Call the dog off!” Rupert whined, trying to hide behind the groom that was manning the turnstile.
“Xander, no!” she commanded and the puppy ceased, however much she would’ve enjoyed watching Xander take a little piece out of the buffoon. He was a very perceptive dog. She patted his head, then stood and brushed the dirt from her gloves and tried to smooth her skirts.
“Whatever are you doing here, Mr. Fagge?” He was dressed quite differently than his normal outré colours and patterns, in subdued black and grey. He wore tasselled Hessians instead of his favoured heels, which Xander was nipping at.
“I was about to ask you the same thing. You should not be wandering about with a vagabond on the loose,” he scolded self-righteously as he tried to shoo the dog away.
Patience narrowed her gaze. He dared scold her? His voice had taken on a slightly different tone than she was unaccustomed to hearing from him.
“I was walking the dog. As you can see, he is an excellent protector. Why are you here?”
“Mama sent me to call to see who was attending our dinner. She said no one has answered yet.”
My what a pushy, distasteful woman Lady Fagge was. “My sister was trying to ascertain the precise number of attendees. You must realize not everyone is present as they are on duty, and there is some difficulty with gathering the names.” She hoped she sounded civil, because she felt anything but. She also wanted to remind the oaf that her sister was nine months with child, but she did not think Faith would appreciate her saying such. “You may assure your mama that a reply will be coming forthwith.”
“Yes, yes, I will do that. May I escort you back to the house?”
Patience wracked her brains for any reasonable objection. “That will not be necessary, kind sir. If I am seen with you, then I will be scolded for wandering too far, indeed. Then I would not be allowed to attend your dinner tonight.”
It was hard not to laugh, watching the thoughts run across Rupert’s face. But he could see the validity of her argument and would risk his mama’s wrath for someone not to attend her dinner party.
“You are certain you know the way?” he asked in one last effort to change her mind.
“Oh, yes. I know precisely where I am now.” Never mind that Patience had never been lost a day in her life. “Good day, Mr. Fagge.”
She hurried off down the path, praying he did not change his mind and come after her. She would rather take her chances with a vagabond than be alone with Rupert any day.
Now, she would have to endure an entire evening of his fawning and clinging. She shuddered at the thought. He disturbed her as much as Major Stuart, but in an entirely different way. It wasn’t disgust she felt when she thought of Ashley Stuart, but she could not quite put a name to it…yet it was still entirely uncomfortable. What was it when someone irritated you, yet you could not stop thinking about them? At least she could say she had not been bored since his arrival. There had also been Lord Montford with Mr. and Miss Cunningham and Xander, of course. She had hardly spent any time with her other guests, but they were more friends with Grace and Joy anyway.
Her mind drifted back to seeing Rupert. Was Lady Fagge actually so pushy as to send Rupert over after she herself had sent a note that very morning? It was very odd, indeed. Something niggled at the back of her mind and she wondered whether she ought to mention it to Major Stuart. Should she tell him about the meeting and possible coin exchange she just witnessed? Then she shook her head. He would not appreciate the fact that she had defied his orders, and would likely tell Westwood. The last thing she needed was to have him on her case. Besides, was that not the groom’s job to report any traffic through that part of the estate? What had the groom accepted from Rupert, and where had he gone off to? It was not as though anyone would stop one of the neighbours from visiting. It had to simply be her dislike of the man that made her wish him to be a villain. He was too much of a fool and too much under his mama’s thumb to dare try anything nefarious. Patience gurgled a laugh at the thought.
Imagine being shackled to one as he! No doubt there would be three people involved in that marriage and Lady Fagge would direct every movement. Patience made a face of distaste.
How did so many women survive marriage without choosing their mates? Patience would rather die than be shackled to someone like Rupert. She was fortunate to have a choice in the matter, though would they allow her to remain as a spinster forever?
It was not that she hated men or even the idea of marriage if she could be assured of one such as Faith and Westwood had. Her more practical nature was quite certain affection like that did not come along very often. Since Hope also seemed to have found love, Patience felt the odds were even more against her, statistically speaking. There were few gentlemen she’d met that she could imagine such a union with. Dancing with most gentlemen was bad enough.
She would have to dance with Rupert, and the thought made her ill. At this point, she would not even have to feign a megrim. But she had heard Major Stuart and Colonel Renforth discussing the necessity of scouting out the neighbours, and she knew she was good at noticing small details. If there was any chance she could help solve this mystery, then she would suffer through. Now perhaps feigning a sprained ankle might be just the thing…
