She heard the creak of leather as a man dismounted from his horse behind her, still out of her sight. It might not be him. It could be anyone. It could be Miss Barton’s brother. Miss Barton looked just as interested in the man behind her as everyone else. Yes, it must me Mr. Barton behind her.
“Well, this looks like a pleasant picnic party.” The voice was deep and masculine with just a hint of humor to it. It had been years since she had heard Lord Bryant’s voice, and although there was a hard edge to it that she didn’t remember, it was unmistakable. Lord Bryant was standing just behind her, and he was about to join them.
Patience coughed into her serviette. Her blonde wig would not hide her face or her voice. If Lord Bryant told anyone about her being out among society wearing a wig and going by the name of Mary Smith, her reputation would be ruined. He wouldn’t even have to tell anyone. If he called her Lady Patience in surprise, the women of the party would spread the news of her transgression with a fevered frenzy that no gentleman of London could ever accomplish.
“Lord Bryant, what a wonderful surprise.” Mrs. Cuthbert slid to one side, opening up space between her and Miss Paynter. “You must join us.”
“Well, the odds do seem to be a bit too much in Mr. Woodsworth’s favor. And I wouldn’t think he was the type of man to take advantage of that, though I profess I do not know you well. Perhaps I am wrong.”
“Indeed, taking advantage of women is not something I make a habit of,” Mr. Woodsworth said. His voice was lower, and he took his time with his words. Apparently, there was no love lost between the two gentlemen. Patience kept the serviette covering the lower half of her mouth. She slid her body to the side as Lord Bryant sat down. Her thigh brushed up against Mr. Woodsworth’s leg, but she didn’t dare look up to see his reaction. He could scold his bold maid later. For now, she needed to keep her head down and her mouth closed.
Introductions were made, and she was once again introduced as Mary Smith. She snuck a glance at Lord Bryant when that name was mentioned. His head was cocked to one side, and a half smile curved one side of his face.
“Miss Smith, an inspiring name,” was his only comment. After Miss Barton was introduced, Lord Bryant spoke to her. “Any relation to Mr. Nathan Barton, the railroad man?”
Apparently everyone knew Miss Barton’s brother.
“He is my brother. In fact, I know you a little. You were at his wedding,” Miss Barton said.
“Ah yes. I never forget a beautiful young woman. No matter how many years it has been since I have seen her.”
Patience kept her eyes focused down on Mr. Woodsworth’s sleeves, but she was certain Lord Bryant was looking at her.
Miss Barton laughed. “It was only last year, but thank you for remembering. You were at their wedding, and yet you have never come to call, at least not since I have been here.”
It was Lord Bryant’s turn to laugh. “I don’t believe your brother is fond of me, seeing as he once punched me in the jaw.” There were collective gasps around the blanket. Laying a hand on someone of rank was a serious crime. “Oh, don’t get me wrong; I deserved it. And I have learned my lesson. Since that time, I have pointedly refused to kiss any man’s betrothed, at least if that man happens to be in the room.”
Mr. Woodsworth set down his plate of food. “You feel it is better to kiss a man’s betrothed when he is not there?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Patience caught the shrug of Lord Bryant’s shoulders. “It is better for my face, at any rate.”
There was a shift in the blanket. Mr. Woodsworth stood. “I’m going to stretch my legs if anyone would care to join me.”
Patience waited for just a moment to be certain Lord Bryant didn’t volunteer, then she dropped her serviette and stood as well. “I will join you,” she said in barely a whisper.
Mr. Woodsworth held out his arm, and she took it. With her face still averted from the group on the blanket, Mr. Woodsworth led her to the walking path. They stayed in sight of the group, but before long, they were out of earshot.
“I do not like to speak evil of anyone,” Mr. Woodsworth said, “but that Lord Bryant is one of the most despicable men in London.”
Patience wouldn’t call him despicable, but unwelcome, definitely unwelcome. “I would much rather not run into him. That is for certain.”
Mr. Woodsworth stopped and turned to look at her, his eyes full of concern. “Does he bother you so much? I hadn’t thought of that. I’m sure his personality is quite overwhelming to you.”
“It isn’t so much his personality.” She couldn’t exactly tell him she had spent two weeks at his estate while she was still young. It had been a different world then. Nicholas hadn’t yet served in the army. Papa was still alive. Mama was vibrant but not yet silly. Papa had always kept her grounded in reality. Lord Bryant’s wife had been a quiet, pleasant sort of woman, overwhelmed at running the household. That was understandable—entertaining a duke’s family for two weeks would be a daunting task for anyone. Lady Bryant had passed away not long after that. Patience had always wondered what had happened to her, but the news of her death was as quiet as Lady Bryant had been. After only a few weeks, it had seemed as though Lord Bryant, as well as all of London, had forgotten her. “I would just rather not be in the same party as him.”
Mr. Woodsworth sighed. “That is going to be difficult. Miss Morgan plans to spend as much time in his company as she can. It is part of her plan. That is why we came here today.”
“We came here because of Lord Bryant?” Patience stopped walking. Her hand around Mr. Woodsworth’s arm jerked forward with him, pulling him to a standstill as well. He spun to look at her, and she took one long, deep breath. “And the ball. Was it a coincidence that he was there as well?”
“No, Miss Morgan is tracking his schedule. She would like her parents to worry that she is taking a liking to him, then feel that I am a much better choice.”
Patience shook her head. The one man in society she wanted to avoid, and he was the one man Miss Morgan was planning their events around. “Her parents aren’t here, so how is this picnic helping with that plan?” Although quite a distance away from them, she could see that Miss Morgan was leaning forward, putting fruit on Lord Bryant’s plate. Echoes of her laughter floated down the path and through the trees until it found them.
“Fortunately for us, Miss Paynter and Lord Bryant decided to meet in a busy part of the park. Word will get back to her parents.”
“Miss Paynter? How did you know Miss Paynter would be here?”
“She is Lord Bryant’s latest passion. You didn’t know?”
She had been in mourning for two years and then had gone right into service as a maid. “How could I possibly have known that?”