Page 35 of The Duke of Cups (The Highwaymen #3)
IT TURNED OUT Patience was more than happy to welcome Hyacinth when she arrived in the northern part of the country.
“We are family now,” said Patience. “And don’t worry about Dunrose. He was always ridiculous. If he continues to be ridiculous, we shall all have to shake him until he comes to his senses.”
“No, don’t intervene,” said Hyacinth. “I did it for you and Marjorie, anyway.”
“Killed him, you mean?” said Patience, grinning at her.
“Killed Champeraigne? Because we all know you did it. All this time, all these years, four dukes have been trying, and all it took was one woman knowing how to say the right thing to the right man. I think it’s wondrous, truly. You have rescued us all.”
Hyacinth smiled at her. “I’ve never had a family, you know.”
“Come, come,” said Patience. “My housekeeper Charlotte and I are going to have a picnic out by the stream on the grounds, and you must come.”
“Your housekeeper?”
“Well, she’s my friend,” said Patience, “but we shall all be friends, now. One thing we all need more of in this world is female friends!”
They were all friends. Charlotte was quite likable, young for a housekeeper, and willing enough to say anything at all to her mistress the duchess, no matter how it might be taken.
They had more than one picnic, the three of them, drinking blackberry wine and eating bread and cheese and cold chicken.
She and Patience had mornings with the baby, little Henry, as he was learning to roll over and over in the great hall of the Nothshire estate.
Nothshire himself was there, too, in and out for meals or sometimes with the baby. One time, he squeezed her hand too tight and said he could never repay her for what she’d done, and they all owed her their freedom.
Overall, it was good.
She didn’t even miss him.
Well, that was a lie, but there were a lot of moments where she wasn’t even thinking about him, not at all.
There were a lot of moments where she felt fulfilled and happy, as if she were a person who’d done quite well for herself, where she thought that she had nearly everything that she needed.
There were a lot of moments in which she felt quite, quite content.
Summer passed this way, and then autumn, and then Patience began to say that she thought it would be just lovely to be in London for Christmas, for she wasn’t looking forward to the packs of tenants from the nearby village caroling, which mostly consisted of banging on the doors, singing bawdy songs, and begging for figgy puddings.
“Let’s have a quiet Christmas,” she said. “I have heard there is going to be a lovely opera in town. I haven’t been to the opera in ever so long.”
Nothshire, it turned out, was easily convinced to do anything at all that pleased his wife.
So, by November, they were all ensconced in the Nothshire town house in London, and little Henry was holding himself up to go from couch to chair to table. His first steps were sure to be any day now.
One night, after the opera, when they were all a bit drunk, Patience joked that Nothshire should rob some carriages and make Hyacinth a proper bit of money to live on. “It’s the least we could really do, isn’t it, for her? We should do something.”
Nothshire countered that there was no reason to rob anyone, but that he thought that the dukes should put something together for her.
“Not that you’re not quite welcome to stay with us forever, of course,” he said, “because I think we both enjoy having you. But if you wished to have your own money, I think that we could do something.”
“Well, there are some people who deserve to be robbed, though,” said Patience, laughing as she eyed her husband.
“What are you saying?” he said, looking her over.
“Nothing,” said Patience with a shrug. “Just that maybe you highwaymen don’t need to be in permanent retirement. Maybe sometimes, there could be a reason to bring out the Lords of the Crossroads.”
He eyed her carefully. “If there’s a good reason, perhaps.”
“We’re a good team is all, Benedict,” said Patience. “We have a particular skill set, and we might bring it to bear in the service of helping people instead of, you know, for that wretch Champeraigne.”
“You think so?” He smiled, looking as if such a thought cheered him.
Hyacinth thought this was why all the dukes ended up dining together at the Nothshire town house in late November, to discuss this as a proposition, possibly being highwaymen from time to time for what they deemed a “good cause.”
Hyacinth only knew it would mean she’d see him again, the Duke of Dunrose. But she did not want to see him. She wished to never look upon him ever again as long as she lived.
Why had he avoided her all these months?