The Betting Season (A Regency Season Book) (48 page)

"Oh God, Patience," he murmured against her neck as he placed hot kisses on her skin. "Do you feel that? That fire?"

Patience did. She felt it more strongly than she’d ever felt anything in her life. She’d been dreaming about this ever since she’d met him, and in much more detail since discovering that blasted red book.

"Yes," she moaned as he sucked at the flesh of breast that poured over the edge of her gown. She desperately wanted for him to pull her dress down completely and take her aching nipple into his mouth. "I feel it."

"Do you want more?"

"Please, Tristan." she hated the way she sounded as if she were begging, but she had no control of her faculties anymore. She could hardly take a proper breath. "Please don't leave me wanting."

"Your wish is my command."

“Not so fast, Swaffham.”

Damn. He should have been more careful. Of course she had planned for this evening. Why else would she allow him to take her down an abandoned pathway at Vauxhall? It was his own damn fault. And judging by the look on Lord Montague’s face, Tristan wasn’t going to be able to lie his way out of this one as he had others. It seemed inevitable now that he was going to have to marry the conniving little brat.

He winced at his own thought. She wasn’t a brat. He knew better. She was just young and foolish, and even she admitted to that, so maybe she wasn’t even all that foolish. Misguided seemed the better word for it.

At any rate, she was going to be
his
misguided young lady now. And Tristan couldn’t say he was all that upset about the prospect. He had fallen into her trap willingly, and he couldn’t really explain why he did it. He’d found out about her friends’ bets the day before and after mulling it around in his head a bit—replaying his conversation with Findley that led to the bet—put two and two together. Her cousin could have quite the career on the stage.

He stepped away from her before Montague had the pleasure of getting to pull them apart. His member throbbed beneath his trousers. He’d not expected to feel so passionately for Patience, but damn if she didn’t look like a sun goddess in that orange gown, with her breasts thrust upwards and her incandescent skin reflecting the last rays of the sun.

“
At least you had the decency to stop,” Montague said, and Tristan had to laugh. If he had been with a widow or a woman of lesser morals, he certainly would have waived his friend away and continued with his business.

“
Nice to see you too, Monty.” Tristan gave the moral do-gooder a half smile born of resignation—an emotion he couldn’t ever remember feeling. He glanced at Patience, expecting her to be beaming with pride that her plan had worked. But she actually looked rather forlorn. “I trust you’ll see Patience safely back to her cousin?”

“
You’re not coming?” Patience asked, a hint of disappointment in her tone.

Montague didn’t give him the opportunity to reply. “That’s Miss Findley to you, Swaffham. At least until you’ve stood before the minister.”

Tristan turned to Patience. He wanted to be furious with her for trapping him this way, but another part of him couldn’t help but be glad that if he had to be trapped to someone, at least it was to her. Perhaps his future hell wouldn’t be quite so hellish.

Her eyes beseeched him. Clearly she wanted him to come with her to make things official, but she needn’t worry on that account. He would marry her—for once there was no way out of it.

“
Come, Miss Findley,” Montague said, grabbing her by the elbow and leading her away. “You’ll see Lord Swaffham tomorrow…or I’ll see him on the field.”

With one last scathing look over his shoulder, Montague disappeared with Patience, leaving Tristan alone on the darkening pathway. He sighed and plopped onto the nearby bench. He hadn’t planned on marrying so soon—or at all, really. But this situation wasn’t so bad, he supposed. He’d won the bet, and he’d won an heiress. At the very least, he’d be able to save Hamlin Abbey.

“
How could you, Patience?” Her father paced back and forth behind his desk, silhouetted by the sun shining through the large window behind him. “I had such high hopes for you, and now…
this
.”

“
Come now, Roderick,” Rangana said quietly. “Surely you hoped for Patience to marry well, and now she will.”

Father turned on Rangana. “A penniless baron! Not only is he the lowest on the totem pole of peerages, but he hasn’t got a dime to his name.”

Patience ignored the sick feeling in her stomach. There was nothing she could do about any of this now. She’d planted the bet, and it had worked like a charm. Only, part of her had hoped that she and Tristan might have a happy marriage. That once they’d gotten past her little deception, he might see that she was a truly good person who had simply been a little clouded in her judgment.

What she was coming to realize, however, was that he might have been using her just as she was using him. Apparently his estate was in trouble, and he needed an heiress to save it. Not only did Patience suit his needs perfectly, but she’d practically invited him to take advantage of her so they could be married.

In the end, they deserved one another. Two conniving, selfish humans who thought of nothing but their own personal gain, when a lifetime was at stake.

Father and Rangana were still arguing about the whole thing, but Patience didn’t hear them, she was so lost in her own thoughts. It didn’t matter what anyone thought, anyway—especially not her father. What was done was done, and she would, in very short order, be Lady Swaffham.

“
May I please be excused?” she finally said, interrupting the argument.

Both Rangana and her father turned to her, clearly shocked by her request.

“
We’re not done here, Patience.” Father’s face was redder than she’d ever seen it. He’d have an attack of the heart if he wasn’t careful.

“
I don’t see what more there is to discuss, Father,” she said, trying to maintain a soothing tone of voice. “I’m to marry Swaffham and there’s nothing you can do about it…unless you wish to bring more scandal to this family.” She said that last part with a pointed look at Rangana.

Rangana dipped her head, and Patience could see that there were tears forming in her eyes.

Father sighed. “Rangana, leave us for a moment, would you?”

Something about her father’s tone took her off guard. A weariness, perhaps resignation. Either way, Patience had a feeling she was about to learn something she wasn’t supposed to know.

“
Roderick, don’t,” Rangana said, but Father silenced her with a hand. That was enough to send Rangana on her way.

Patience watched her go, then turned back to her father once the door clicked shut. “What is going on?” she asked, not entirely certain she wanted to know.

Her father plopped down in the chair, his eyes wet with tears. “I promised your mother,” he began, his voice choked, “that I would never…that I would keep this a secret. But I can’t anymore. I can’t let you go on thinking what you think…of me, of Rangana.”

There were no words, not yet anyway, so Patience held her silence and waited for her father to go on.

“
Rangana was your mother’s maid, and your mother loved her. They became fast friends, and then Rangana became pregnant. Your mother was ecstatic for her, however, malaria claimed Rangana’s husband not long after the news. It was devastating for all of us, really. And then…”

He paused and Patience sat forward, eager to hear the rest of the story. “It’s all right, Papa. Go on.”

Father nodded and wiped his eyes quickly. “When the sickness claimed your mother too, she begged me to take care of Rangana. To bring her back here and care for the child as if it were my own. Obviously, I couldn’t return with a woman and child without marrying her, so we had a quick wedding in Bombay. It’s legal, but it’s not…”

“
Consummated,” Patience finished. If her father was shocked that she knew of such things, he didn’t show it. “So Mabel is not yours. You didn’t—”

“
Betray your mother?” Father shook his head, clearly fighting back another round of tears. “Heavens no, child. I loved your mother. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to love another as I loved her. But I will keep her promise. I will look after Rangana and Mabel.”

“
But why did she make you keep it a secret from me?” Patience wondered, feeling slightly hurt that her mother would request such a thing.

Father shrugged. “I can’t say. Perhaps she thought it would be easier on you that way. Who knows? She wasn’t exactly in her right mind at the time.” He grimaced at the memories, and Patience hoped she never had to watch the person she loved go through such a horrific and painful death.

Somewhat surprisingly, she realized that person would be Tristan.

“
Father,” she said quietly, “is this what love feels like?”

He cocked his head sideways, clearly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“
I see it in your eyes. You know that painful, sick feeling—the one I’m feeling now—don’t you?”

“
Are you trying to tell me that you’re in love with Lord Swaffham?”

Patience shook her head and looked away. “I don’t know what I am anymore. I thought I was so sure. Now everything is muddled and, well, what if he doesn’t love me back? He only wants me for my dowry, and I worry that I’ll spend the rest of my life feeling this way, with this pit in my stomach.”

“
You’ll never know unless you talk to him, Patience.”

She grimaced. “That makes me even sicker.”

Her father laughed and stood again. “Well, why don’t you practice on Rangana? I think you may owe her an apology.”

She knew she did. She’d been rather horrible to Rangana ever since she’d arrived. Whether she had married her father in earnest or not, she still didn’t deserve to be treated that way.

Patience nodded and stood as well, very aware at how her relationship with her father had changed in the blink of an eye. “I’m sorry I disappointed you, Father.”

He gave her a half smile. “You didn’t disappoint me, child. Quite the contrary. You are braver and more daring than I ever thought possible.”

Before she dissolved into a puddle of tears at her father’s feet, Patience left to seek out Rangana. She found her sitting in the upstairs parlor again, practicing needlepoint.

“
I take it you didn’t do a lot of needlepoint back in Bombay,” she said as she entered the room.

Rangana looked up, clearly surprised by the friendly tone Patience used with her. “No,” she laughed. “Not at all. But I thought…well, I thought if we had something in common…”

Patience gave her a smile and moved further into the room. “I owe you an apology, Rangana. My father told me everything, but even if he hadn’t, I would still owe you this apology. I’ve been awful to you, and for that, I am truly and deeply sorry.”