Page 107 of Rakes & Reticules
Patience nodded, her brow furrowed as the older woman grimaced in pain, a hand on her abdomen. “I understand. I will hand the papers directly to the gentleman and no one else.”
Mrs. Fitzherbert sat up, clearing her throat. “Good. And once you confirm the delivery, I will write your recommendation. You can go directly to the school. Mrs. Shackleford will not turn away anyone I recommend.”
For a moment Patience did not comprehend the words. “Do you mean I do not have to wait for a reply?” she asked, her heart feeling as if it would come out of her chest.
This could not be happening. She would be able to really leave Brighton once and for all. There was a small part of her that didn’t want to go while her father was still missing. But Patience could always visit him once he returned.
She was done choosing others over herself.
“Precisely. You may leave once the reticule is delivered.” Mrs. Fitzherbert held the handkerchief to her mouth firmly for a moment. “I shall miss you as a secretary. It is difficult to find competent assistance these days. Thank you, Patience.”
It was difficult to voice how appreciative she was of Mrs. Fitzherbert for taking a chance on her. Now she was giving Patience the one thing she wanted most in the world, freedom.
“Thank you,” Patience said sincerely. “I will inform you when the reticule is delivered.”
“Good. You shall find it in the top drawer of my desk.” Mrs. Fitzherbert laid back officially dismissing Patience.
Leaving the room, Patience rushed through the large home. Her excitement threatened to bubble out of her as she nearly ran to Mrs. Fitzherbert’s office.
Bursting through the door, Patience was shocked to find Cecelia on the other side of the desk with the reticule in her hands.
Surprise shone on the other woman’s face, before she broke out in a smile. “There you are! Mrs. Fitzherbert wanted me to give this to you. I wanted to make sure you had it before you left.” Her voice was light and airy, but Patience could not help but notice a slight tremble when she spoke.
Patience stood for a moment, not comprehending what actually was happening. “Oh, Mrs. Fitzherbert did not mention it,” Patience said slowly, doubt grazing her skin.
“She must’ve forgotten due to her illness.” Cecelia held out the reticule for Patience, who took it tentatively. “Now off you go, before you’re late for the ball.”
Patience nodded before leaving the study. Something was amiss about the entire exchange, but she didn’t know exactly what it was. Not dwelling on it, she continued out of Stein House intent on delivering the reticule and beginning her future.
CHAPTERFOUR
Fitz stared around the meager ballroom of Hilcrest Manor, shocked that he would ever return to Brighton at all. It had been five years since he had rushed out of the very same ballroom, after the cruelest woman he had ever met had broken his young heart.
Then a solicitor with a small income, no one would even look his way. He had hoped his life was enough for Patience, but her grandmother insisted she had accepted a better offer.
Now, Fitz was a titled gentleman with no income, and an estate saddled with debt, yet he was surrounded by eligible young ladies. He would never become accustomed to the amount of attention that having a title garnered.
As he stood in the center of Viscount Hightower’s small ballroom there wasn’t an eye that was not on him and Stonelake. He was grateful for his friend’s presence if for nothing else than to capture the attention of every eager mama in Brighton.
He had hoped that no one with all their faculties would want their daughter to marry a cursed earl, but he was wrong. A title, even a cursed one, was attractive to most mamas. Hopefully, the attention he was currently attracting would transfer to his friend. A wealthy duke with family connections to the crown surely was every debutante’s dream.
Stonelake often reminded Fitz that an eager mama would marry her daughter off to anyone. It seemed an earl with a cursed title was a very appealing option for matrimony. Sighing, he smiled as Viscount Hightower introduced him to the eighth or twentieth mother-and-daughter duo. The occasional father would accompany them, but mostly it was the mothers, eager and ready.
In London, it was easy to avoid such events as a newly titled lord, but here in Brighton, where society was lacking during the slow seasons, there was no avoiding marriage minded individuals.
His eyes roamed the ballroom again. He had yet to see a young lady with a reticule matching the description Prinny had given him. Fitz also did not see Miss Patience Grant. There was a small part of him that longed to see her again, but he wasn’t there for her or to rekindle any semblance of a relationship.
Fitz was there for one thing. Once he had the reticule, he would return to London and his lonely life. After he received the funds, his sole purpose was to restore Worthington Abbey, so his mother and sister would have a decent home. This wasn’t about him and a failed relationship years ago. This was his only hope to free himself from the insurmountable debt that he had inherited from his cousin.
As he peered at every lady with a reticule, he only saw a handful, and none matched Prinny’s description. It would’ve helped if the Regent had given him any detail on the woman he was meeting.
Fitz stood in front of their host, Viscount Hightower, who had always been a very amenable gentleman. He was tall with a small round belly and bald head. His friendly gray eyes surveyed Fitz.
“I’m astonished to see you back in Brighton and as an earl no less,” Hightower said, his eyes full of excitement.
“Yes, it has been some years,” Fitz told him, taking pleasure in the man’s jovial behavior.
“The Earl of Killingworth, how extraordinary.” Hightower leaned forward like he was telling a secret. “You were visiting Reeves then I believe.”
