Page 120 of Rakes & Reticules
Fitz felt sick, his head light. Retrieving those papers had been his sole purpose, but now, he had a new purpose.
“What is it?” he asked, leading her away from their hiding place.
He couldn’t think. Fitz needed to do something, anything. Those papers were the key to absolving his cousin’s debts. Debts he could not pay, especially with a mother, a sister, and a wife to care for.
“Mrs. Fitzherbert wasn’t feeling well and asked me to go retrieve the reticule, but Cecelia was in her study when I arrived. I didn’t think anything was untoward, but something did not feel right.” Patience rushed away, leaving him standing alone.
Hastily he followed her, catching her in a few short steps. “Patience, wait. We need to go find this maid and demand she gives us the papers. Those papers contain proof that Prinny and Maria Fitzherbert were really married. Anyone would pay an astronomical amount for that information.”
He couldn’t think. Moments ago all he wanted was to marry Patience, and now he had to go gallivanting around Brighton in search of a maid. She could be anywhere.
“We must go to Mrs. Fitzherbert’s now.” Patience continued down the long hall, reaching Hightower’s butler, Banks, who looked at them in alarm.
“I’m sorry, Lord Killingworth,” Banks said, bobbing up and down nervously. “There has been an issue with the carriages—”
Not quite understanding what he was possibly speaking of, Fitz couldn’t help but to inquire. “What issue?” he asked, holding back his irritation.
“Mr. Reeves’ coachman has created a bit of a commotion trying to get it out of the queue. I’m afraid several of the carriages have been unable to move, horses are entangled…” The man huffed out like it was the Battle of Waterloo outside, and not a queue of carriages waiting on a ball to end. “Let me check on the status and see if you are able to depart.”
“Thank you, Banks,” Fitz said to the much shorter, older man with thinning white hair.
Banks nodded before leaving them alone.
“Once we have the papers, we’ll return them to Prinny, and then we can marry.” Fitz watched her reaction to his words, holding his breath.
This delay would not hinder his plans. They were meant to be together again. No matter what obstacles stood in their way, they could face them.
“I will help you find the papers, tonight,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze.
Help him find the papers and nothing else.The single remark took away any hope he had that she would become his wife after they found the maid. Then again, he had not properly asked her. Fitz would do so as soon as they were alone and did not have to worry about the papers in the wrong hands.
He no longer cared about the funds Prinny had promised him. They could survive as long as they did not have his cousin’s suffocating debt lingering over them. His only wish was that Patience would agree to be his wife.
But perhaps five years was too great a distance for them to reconcile, no matter how wronged they had been by others.
A door opened, and a sudden girlish giggle caught their attention. Down the hall, Patience’s sister Mary-Anne was leaving a room with one of Hightower’s footmen of all people.
“Mary-Anne!” Patience called to her sister before rushing toward her and the footman who both were slightly disheveled.
“P-patience, what are you doing out here?” her sister asked, tucking a wayward piece of hair back in place.
“Dash it!” Patience yelled, looking from her sister to the footman. “The both of you need to settle your situation out. If you want to marry each other then for God’s sake, get married, but do not sneak around for anyone to catch you.”
Fitz’s head swiveled between the footman and Miss Mary-Anne. To say he was shocked would be an understatement. “Do you love her?” Fitz asked the tall lanky man with dark skin and thick hair cut short.
“More than anything in the world.” The words were announced with a deep longing conviction.
“Oh, Philip! I love you too.” Mary-Anne looked up at the man with love and devotion in her eyes and for a moment Fitz felt a brief stab of jealousy.
Beside him, Patience’s anger depleted as she looked at the young couple. “Then stop sneaking around before you’re caught. Tell my mother you want to be married, tomorrow.”
“Philip, what are you doing?” Viscount Hightower’s butler called out as he entered the foyer.
“I have to go. I’ll come to your house and speak to your mother tomorrow,” Philip said, squeezing Miss Mary-Anne’s hand, ignoring the old butler who was glaring openly at the young man.
“What about Grandmother?” Mary-Anne looked at her sister, her eyes filled with fear. “She is determined to see me marry well.”
Fitz understood now that Mrs. Miller had been pressuring her younger granddaughter as well. Did the woman’s ambition ever end?
