Mr. Woodsworth was once again on his knees proposing to her, and this time, it was no mistake. His fingertips slid from her hair to trace the bottom of her jaw. He leaned forward and placed his mouth near her ear. The stubble from his cheek grazed her own. How could something so rough feel so gentle? “I haven’t been able to sleep since picturing what my life could be like with you always in it. Please put me out of this misery and say yes.”
All she had to do was say yes. It was on the tip of her tongue. Her hands started to shake. Her eye twitched . . . She wanted to lie. She squeezed his hands more tightly in order to stop the shaking, but she couldn’t.
“Miss Kendrick, you are shaking.” He bowed low and kissed each of her hands.
She couldn’t tell him yes, no matter how much she wanted to. Her life was not in her own hands. If she had truly been a maid, she could have had him. She would lean forward and not bother to answer him in words. Only his lips had responded to her during their first kiss, but what would it be like to kiss him now? When he would actually welcome it? As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t.
It would be a lie.
“Your plan is very sound.”
He kissed the inside of her wrist. “Thank you.”
“And very detailed.”
He repeated the motion, this time with her other wrist. “I know.”
“But it will not work.” His hands went limp in her own. “I wish it could. I can’t even tell you how much I wish it could. But I’m not free. I don’t get to choose my own future. If I could, this is the one I would pick. It is beautiful. Thank you, Mr. Woodsworth, for allowing me to think it possible for a moment. I am afraid it might be the most beautiful moment I will ever have.”
“What do you mean, you aren’t free? Have you betrothed yourself to some other man I don’t know about?”
“No, it isn’t a betrothal.”
His eyebrows furrowed, and he slowly dropped her hands. “What do you mean?”
There was a commotion in the hallway outside the door. The front door slammed.
“Where is Mr. Woodsworth?” Nicholas had never been soft-spoken when he was angry. At least he was in control enough not to run through the house screaming her name.
“He is in his study.” Mr. Gilbert’s voice was softer, but still, she could hear him. “Would you like me to announce you or send your card in?”
“No need” was Nicholas’s curt reply.
Patience jumped out of Mr. Woodsworth’s chair, knocking it over in her rush. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Woodsworth.” What she wouldn’t give to have the right to call him Anthony. “But will you please stand up?”
“Who is coming through that door?”
The door flew open as if a windstorm had crashed into the house. But it was no windstorm. It was her brother. As soon as he was through the door, he closed it.
“Mr. Woods—” Nicholas began, but he stopped when he saw her. “Patience, what are you wearing?”
She looked down at her dress. That was the first thing he would say to her?
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. You are coming home with me now. Where is that scoundrel Woodsworth?”
He had flopped down from his kneeling position and now sat leaning against his desk, unmoving. She wasn’t certain he was even breathing. She reached down for one of his hands, but at her touch, he pulled away.
“He is here by the desk. But he has done nothing wrong, Nicholas. He didn’t know who I was, and he has been nothing but a noble employer.”
“That is not what I heard. He had you out in society. In society! Patience, what kind of absolute ridiculousness is this?”
At that, Mr. Woodsworth stood. “She was perfectly capable of conducting herself in society. She managed beautifully. I don’t know what kind of relationship or agreement she has with you, but I assure you, if she stays with me, she will have a better one.”
“A better one than what I can provide her?” Nicholas strode over to the desk. He pushed out his chest and rose to his full height, but Mr. Woodsworth was still taller by a few inches. “Do you even know who I am?”
“I assume you are the Duke of Harrington.”
“I am much more than that to her.”
Mr. Woodsworth’s face went white. Patience cast a furious glance at Nicholas. She was the one in the wrong here. He shouldn’t be taking it out on Mr. Woodsworth. She reached out to place a hand on Mr. Woodsworth’s arm, but he shook it off. She dropped her hand to her side and willed his eyes to look at her. But his gaze never came. This was not how she had imagined telling him. She had thought perhaps she would never tell him. But that was before he had come up with that ridiculous three-year plan for them to marry. As if she would have waited three years to marry him. If it had been in her power at all, months would have been too long. “He is my brother.” The words felt strange on her tongue, as if someone else had whispered them. Mr. Woodsworth stilled. “I am Lady Patience Kendrick.”
“Kendrick.” He whispered the name, his lips only just moving. “I knew it sounded familiar.” He leaned forward with both hands on his desk. “You lied to me. The whole time we have been together has been a lie.”
“Woodsworth.” Nicholas’s voice was a deep growl, but Mr. Woodsworth ignored it.
“You wouldn’t even lie to Stewart about where you were from, but with me, you’ve lied about everything.” A dry laugh escaped his throat.
“I didn’t lie. My name is Patience. And I am your maid. I was hired to be. I’ve never lied to you, not about a single thing.”
“My plan must have seemed so foolish—”
“No, not foolish. And if I had been a maid, there was no chance I could have resisted you.”
“But you aren’t a maid, are you? You just said so yourself.”
Mr. Woodsworth had never sounded so harsh and bitter. Oh, what had she done to him? He was right; her logic didn’t make sense. If she were a maid, she could have married him. But she was not and never would be truly a maid. She may not have lied to him exactly, but she had deceived him and his household, and now she was facing the consequences of her actions.
“And now that it is clear my sister belongs nowhere near you, I am taking her home. Now. If I find you have done her any harm, you will be visited by a constable immediately. If serious harm, then you will be visited by my sword unless you would prefer pistols. I am proficient at both, thanks to your father.” Nicholas held his arm out expectantly for Patience. It was time to leave. He shook his head back and forth. “I have no idea how we are going to explain that dress to Mother.”