Page 62 of Love Abandoned

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ay me! for aught that I could ever read,

Could ever hear by tale or history,

The course of true love never did run smooth.

—Shakespeare,A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Richard had seenthe optimism in her eyes when she’d joined him and William in the entryway, and it hurt his heart to know he would have to watch it fade. In the cold light of the day, his fervor abated, he’d become overwhelmed by the small possibility he may have planted a child. He could not bear it.

He must find a way to navigate their relationship, make her feel wanted but not fall to temptation. He would not take his desires elsewhere, therefore he must learn to manage them. Yesterday, he was ashamed to admit to himself, he’d blatantly used his children as a shield. Today he removed himself from the town house long before Elizabeth got up. He needed a strategy, but until then, he’d no recourse but to fall back on his avoidance techniques, cowardly though they might be.

He went for a ride, even considered stopping by Walford’s for some marital advice. But he found he could not share such personal information. Instead, Richard continued to ride, oblivious of his surroundings. He didn’t know what to say to Elizabeth. The other night, he’d misled her through deed, offering a promise he could not honor. If he could bring himself to speak to her of his endless sense of foreboding, they might find a middle road. He’d enjoyed the pleasure he’d given her. It would be enough for him. But would it for her? She pursued lovemaking as though there were no issues. Anddevil it all, she knew the danger. She knew it and still persisted. He’d admire her courage if it did not make him feel all the more a coward about his fears.

He’d finally wound up at White’s, ordered some food, and sat brooding, staring at the book on the far left of the shelf as though it was the root of all his problems. Well, he could not solve his domestic issues, but it was time to finish with espionage business. There had been no word from Patricia, and time was running out. He was left with no choice but to seek her out and bluntly tell her the fate that awaited should she not share her source.

He penned a note indicating his plan and discreetly slid it in the book, assuming someone from the Home Office checked it regularly. He’d go home, attend to some business, and head out to Mrs. Tate’s at a more suitable hour. He did not want to raise her suspicion. He decided to walk back to the town house, hoping the fresh air might help him think things through, but there was no clearer a path for what to do about Elizabeth’s happiness. There was only one road forward for her safety, though, and he would not veer from it again.

Richard surprised Mrs. Fernsby as he entered through the back door, and he placed a finger to his mouth to shush her. She nodded, and he walked quietly through the hall and into his study, closing the door behind him. He’d prefer Elizabeth not know he’d returned. He eyed the pile of correspondence he’d been neglecting, hoping it would provide much-needed distraction.

A short time later, there was a rap at the door, and Richard braced himself for Elizabeth’s disappointment. Instead, it was Hastings, looking more severe than normal.

“My lord, there is a…” He cleared his throat. “A woman at the back door who wishes to speak with you. I informed her you were not in and sent her on her way, but she has refused to leave.”

Richard’s heart leaped into his throat. He dismissed his panic immediately. Patricia would not come to his home. “Who is it?”

“A Miss Paisley,” Hastings said, archly biting out her name.

He jumped to his feet.Damn and blast the woman. Her audacity boiled his blood. He was ready to stampede through the hall but caught himself before doing something so foolish. The less attention drawn to her and her business, the better. Plus, it would save him having to go to the brothel, a small gift he should appreciate. He would end this thing here and now.

“Where is Lady Thornwood?”

“She has gone shopping with Lady Tessaro and Lady Walford.”

Richard blew out a relieved breath. “Show Miss Paisley in,” he said, surprised by Hastings’s astonished look but choosing to ignore it. The man had been with him since Richard was a child, and rarely did the butler let his emotions show. He’d not chastise him for this slip, for it truly was an anomaly to have anyone come to the back door and demand to see Richard, never mind a woman, a prostitute. And he had no doubt Patricia had been less than gracious.

He was particularly grateful Elizabeth was not home when he heard Patricia chirping as she neared the study.

“I do not need a lesson in proper etiquette, you buffoon,” she said as she stepped into the doorway. “Thornwood.” Patricia did not wait for an introduction or invitation. She walked into the room and unceremoniously threw herself into the chair across from his desk.

Hastings was red with fury but somehow managed to ask if he could get anything. Richard dismissed him and asked him to close the door. Poor Hastings was not used to being the brunt of a sharp tongue.

“It was not wise of you to come to my home,” Richard said, leaning back in his chair and studying her. “It had better be important.”

“What will you do if it’s not? Beat me? Smack my backside? I didn’t know that was your proclivity, but I can raise my skirts if you’d like to have a go with a paddle.” She scanned him, her eyes lingering where they shouldn’t, as though she could see his crotch through the desk. “Or you can have a go at me with anything else you’d like,” she said seductively.

“Enough, Patricia,” he said, irritated that she continued to play these flirtatious games when he’d made it clear he didn’t have, nor would he ever have, any interest in a dalliance.

Patricia smirked unbecomingly. “A girl can try, right?” Inelegantly, she stuck her hand into her bosom, pulled out a sheath of paper, and shoved it across the desk toward him. When he reached for it, she yanked it back, looking around the study. “You have payment available for me here?”

“Patricia,” he growled, losing patience, but it had no impact on her. She tucked it back into her gown. “Of course you will get your coin,” he said irritably, holding out a hand.

She studied him for a moment and handed it over.

Richard glanced at the sheet, but it was coded and held no meaning for him. He had to trust it carried the same value as her earlier missives.

“I do apologize for coming to your home,” Patricia said, her tone changed, now seeming genuinely contrite. “But it does not go well with Mrs. Tate.”

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