Page 27 of The Truth about the Viscount
“How wonderful! Might I enquire as to her name?”
“Miss Spearton.” Daniel frowned as the lady’s smile slipped. “I have recently sent out invitations to her betrothal ball, and I thought I ought to purchase her a little gift for it.”
“I see.” The shopkeeper gestured to all of the various items within her shop. “If you wish to peruse all that I have here, Lord Hastings, then I would be glad to assist you, should you have any questions.”
Daniel blinked quickly, recognizing that the shopkeeper had spoken his name without him once introducing himself. A slow flush crept into his face as he realized that she must have read The London Chronicle, and recognized him from that. With a sharp nod, he turned away at once, only for the bell to ring as the door behind him opened.
“Good afternoon, my lady.” The shopkeeper’s welcoming words were spoken to the new customer. “Is there anything you might wish to look for today? I would be glad to help you.”
“I thank you.”
Daniel heard nothing more that was said, cringing inwardly as he recognized the voice. It was none other than the very lady he had sought to escape – and now would have to face.
Lady Patience had, seemingly inadvertently, followed him into the shop, and now he would have to speak with her, whether he wished it or not.
Chapter Ten
Patience smiled at the shopkeeper, thinking her very amiable indeed.
“I thank you. I think that I shall look at the ribbons, as I should very much like a new one for an upcoming ball.”
“But of course. I am more than able to help you, should you require it.”
With a nod of thanks, Patience made her way across the shop to where the ribbons were all laid out, only to spy another person standing within that area. It was, to her surprise, a gentleman - and this immediately made her a little ill at ease. It would not be right to be in this space without any chaperone, though her mother was immediately outside, standing in conversation with Lady Pearson and Eleanor. She went to pull her gaze away, only for the gentleman to look a little to the right – and Patience’s breath hitched. Before she could even think about what to do, she found her legs carrying her towards him, her relief palpable.
“Lord Hastings, thank goodness I have been able to find you!”
The gentleman did not look in the least bit pleased to see her, however. He turned, his lip curling a little as he looked into her eyes.
“Lady Patience, I do not think that we have anything more to say to each other. Good afternoon.”
“No, no, please!” Without meaning to, Patience reached out and managed to catch his hand with hers. Knowing that it was more than a little inappropriate to do so, she held onto it regardless, her breathing growing quick and fast as he looked into her face in evident surprise at her actions. She did not dare let him go for fear that he would stride away from her, and her opportunity to explain herself leave with him. “I must speak with you. Please, I beg of you to listen for only a moment.”
Lord Hastings went suddenly very still, her fingers pressing his as her heart pounded in her chest. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he gazed into her eyes, seeming to soften directly in front of her.
“I suppose I am able to trust that you, at the very least, have nothing to do with Lord Newforth.”
Confused, Patience blinked but said nothing, not understanding in the least what he meant. A few more moments of silence came, only for Lord Hastings to shrug.
“Very well, Lady Patience. What is it that you have to say?”
Relief made her suddenly a little weak.
“I thank you,” she breathed, still holding his hand. “Lord Hastings, you cannot know just how much I regret sending in the drawing to The London Chronicle. Had I known that someone else would have added to my drawing by writing those few lines, then I would never have consented for my work to be printed!” Lord Hastings’s lips flattened, nothing else in his expression changing. Patience could not tell whether or not he believed her, nor even whether or not he understood a single thing she was saying. “I did not want to put my work into TheLondon Chronicle at first, I assure you,” she continued, coming a little closer to him. “It was suggested to me by another, and the first one I offered was of your sister and Lord Milthorpe.”
“That had nothing written beneath it,” Lord Hastings interrupted, as Patience nodded quickly. “Why did you choose not to write anything there?”
A frustrated breath rushed out of her.
“As I have said, I did not write anything, Lord Hastings. If you wish, you can write to The London Chronicle and ask who it was that wrote those sentences about you! I promise you, with every truth of my heart, that I did not write a single word. I would not do such a thing, for I can see that those words have caused you pain and upset, and I have no cause to want those things to injure you.” A slight catch came into her voice, such was her determination to speak the truth and have him believe her. “I can understand that you have no other reason to believe me, aside from my telling you this, but my desperation to inform you of it must mean something, I assure you.”
Blinking quickly, and a little embarrassed that her eyes were now growing damp, Patience could do nothing but gaze into his eyes and silently pray that what she had said would have an effect. Lord Hastings stood stock still, his dark green eyes flickering with questions, perhaps questions that he was asking, and Patience held her breath, waiting for him to finally respond.
Eventually – and much to her surprise – he put his other hand on top of their joined ones and let out a long, steady breath before dropping his head. Then, with another breath, he lifted his gaze and set his shoulders straight before, finally, his lips curved just a little.
“I believe you, Lady Patience.”
“You do?” Patience, her relief overwhelming, took another step forward before stepping back again, mortified at the thought that had thrown itself at her – which was to fling herarms around his neck and hug him tightly. “I cannot tell you how much I am grateful for your trust in me, Lord Hastings.”
