Page 63 of The Gift of Patience
“I will join you,” Major Stuart said, and Patience bristled that she could not follow and listen.
After they left the room, Rotham turned towards those at that end of the room. “Would anyone care to enlighten me?”
Cunningham and Montford looked at each other. “We do not know many of the details. Ash and some of the soldiers were moving a prisoner to London yesterday when they were set upon by a gang. Sir Horace’s son, Rupert, was shot and killed.”
“You have Sir Horace Fagge’s son in your icehouse?” Rotham asked, clearly none too pleased about what was happening here. “A prisoner. Here.”
“I don’t understand it myself,” Cunningham admitted, which surprised none of his friends.
“But the prisoner is gone now. The danger is past,” Montford reassured Rotham, and Patience realized perhaps the others did not know they had all returned. That it was a ruse. She would hardly be the one to inform them. No one expected her to know anything.
Lady Fagge began wailing loud enough that conversation amongst them was impossible.
“Oh, dear. Agatha never did cry gracefully,” Aunt Rosemary said with a grimace.
“That is not crying, it is an assault on the ears,” Rotham retorted.
The babies began to stir at the noise, so Hope and Grace ushered them back upstairs.
The others looked as though they’d rather be anywhere but there and made their escapes as well. Patience decided she was glad she was not in the room with Lady Fagge after all, but waited to see if anything came of the visit.
The woman wept for twenty more minutes. It was another ten minutes before she finally heard the door open and their being shown to the door.
Once assured that they were gone, Patience hurried out into the entrance hall, full of curiosity.
“That is the worst part of being magistrate,” Westwood said, looking done for. “I will let you update Renforth. I am going to check on Faith.”
Once the others were gone, Patience sensed that Ashley was afraid to be alone with her. If he was regretting their kiss, she would not let it bother her. Lady Halbury had always told them kisses meant nothing to men other than a way to lure women into sin. Well, she could see why his kisses would tempt, but she would not lose her head over it.
She narrowed her gaze and he must have sensed he was about to get a dressing down. “Come walk with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“I must report to the colonel. Fetch Xander and we can pretend we are walking him.”
Technically, they would be walking him, but she would not split hairs.
“What happened?” she asked once they were out of doors and far enough away from the house.
“Besides Lady Fagge erupting into histrionics?”
“She did just lose her son,” Patience felt the need to point out.
“I would have understood yesterday, but why first thing this morning?” He waved the question away as if there was no good answer. There really wasn’t.
“She demanded to have the body released to her, and Dom explained why it must remain here until the inquest. So naturally, she began demanding the inquest to be held tomorrow.” They found Xander with Peter near the barn, and the pup bounced over to her and began to walk with them.
“Did Sir Horace say anything?”
“Very little. He still seemed shocked, like his tongue had been frozen in place.”
“Some people deal with grief that way. Grace did not speak for weeks after our parents died. Were you able to question them at all?”
He shook his head. “You really are not a typical female.”
“Would you like me to be?” Disbelief laced her words.
“Absolutely not.”
