The Duke's Christmas Greetings (Regency Christmas Summons Book 3) Page 5

  With his large doctor’s bag, Matt climbed in and settled beside her, not looking terribly thrilled about the situation. He leaned closer to her and whispered, “You know if something happens to you, Danby will string me up, don’t you?”

  She shook her head and smiled at him. “He couldn’t care less about me. You’ll have to worry about Braden but he’s days away in Buckinghamshire. You’ll have plenty of time to escape and change your name.”

  He snorted slightly, but the edge of his mouth twitched like he didn’t want her to see him smile. “So relieved you’re concerned for my wellbeing.”

  And then Mr. Gibson hobbled in, settled across from them, and rested his cane against his knees.

  Matt heaved a sigh. “You really think Timmy can handle this thing?”

  The old man’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Do you think I’d let him race me to Allwynds if I didn’t?”

  Matt settled his bag at their feet and slid his hand around Patience’s. “Don’t let go of me.”

  And then as gentle as any expert coachman could’ve managed it, the old carriage started forward and they were off.

  “How did Robby fall?” Matt asked, turning his attention to the old man, though he didn’t release his hold on Patience at all.

  “Well, he was trying to string up some greenery across the taproom ceiling and…Well, he just fell, Doctor. Almost like a nose dive, like somewhere in that thick skull of his, he’d gotten the notion he could fly.”

  “Timmy egging him on?” Matt asked.

  The old man shrugged. “Just trying to get the place in the holiday spirit.”

  Matt cast Patience a sidelong glance. “Mr. Gibson here is the owner of the Sword and White Rose, a tavern and coaching inn outside of town.”

  “Oh! It looks charming.” She smiled at the old man. “My sisters and I noticed it on our way to the castle.”

  “You’re here for the Christmas Ball?” the innkeeper asked.

  “His Grace is my mother’s uncle. He, uh—” what was the right word…? Demanded? Summoned? “—invited the four of us to the castle for the holiday.”

  Mr. Gibson nodded. “The Sword and White Rose is nearly overflowing with London swells who’ve come for the duke’s ball.” Then he wrung his hands together. “I don’t know what we’ll do with Robby laid up.” He winced. “Bone sticking right out of his leg, Doctor Campion. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Heavens! A bone sticking out of his leg? Patience’s stomach twisted at the thought, but Matt didn’t even flinch. Of course, he must see worse than that on a regular basis. It couldn’t all be kitten bites and lime juice poultices, after all.

  It wasn’t too long before they arrived at the edge of town and then the well-worn old carriage rambled to a stop.

  Why the devil had Matt let her come? Because he’d gone and lost his bloody mind, that was why. It was foolish. It was unprofessional. It was madness…But he just didn’t want her to be away from him. What if she went back to Danby Castle and he never saw her again? What if the only time he ever got to spend with her was today?

  The door to the coach opened and young Timmy Gibson stood there, looking quite pleased with himself. And, truthfully, he had driven much better than Matt would have ever guessed. “Take my bag, Timmy,” he said. “And show me where your brother is.”

  The boy slid the bag from the floor of the coach, and then Matt descended after him. He turned back and offered his hand to Patience.

  Just that small contact sent frissons of desire swirling around his heart. Damn it all, how in God’s name had he fallen for Lady Patience Post so quickly? “You don’t want to see this, Patience,” he said softly, helping her alight from the coach. And he’d be the worst sort of cad to show her Robby Gibson’s broken leg. She was, before all else, a lady born and bred. “Just stay in the taproom with Gibson and I’ll be through as soon as I can.”

  She nodded, looking slightly relieved.

  Then he followed Timmy Gibson into the taproom.

  For the middle of the day, the place was already raucous, teeming with hoards of people. He hadn’t seen it this crowded since the year Danby had summoned all of his wayward grandchildren home and married off the vast majority of them. He squeezed Patience’s hand in his. Did the duke have similar plans this year? Had he already determined which gentleman was the right one for Patience? Damn it all. Matt hated that the thought even entered his—

  “Hope?” someone called over the din. “Is that you?”

  “He’s right over there.” Timmy gestured to the far wall by the steps that led to the sleeping rooms.

  “You left him, lying in the middle of the floor of the taproom?” Of all the ridiculous things! Anyone of these people could trample across the poor—

  “Lady Hope!”

  “Oh!” Patience released Matt’s hand, which made him stop where he stood. “Lord Prestwood! What are you doing here in Yorkshire?”

  A well-attired gentleman pushed his way through the crowd and Matt bit down on the ping of jealously that coursed through him all of a sudden. The man might not know which triplet he was talking to, but he was most definitely of her station, whereas Matt was not and never would be.

  “I should be asking you the same thing.” The gentleman smiled and bowed before her. “I had no idea you’d be here.”

  Matt shook the jealous thoughts from his mind. They wouldn’t help Robby Gibson and they wouldn’t help Matt either. So he turned his back on Patience and whoever the devil Lord Prestwood was and followed Timmy Gibson to the corner of the room where the lad’s little brother was still lying in pain.

  “We are staying at Danby Castle for the holidays,” Patience told her longtime neighbor, even if he couldn’t tell her from her sister no matter that they’d grown up near each other their entire lives.

  “And I am here at the duke’s invitation, as well,” he said, stepping closer to her. “Have you seen Quent? I’d love to get his opinion on a Friesian Cross a fellow over there is talking about.”

  Quent? She shook her head. “I haven’t seen my brother since his wedding.” And she had no doubt it would be spring before she saw him again, when Quent and Lila would meet them in Town for the Season.

  A most peculiar look settled on Prestwood’s face.

  Odd, Patience had never considered Prestwood peculiar before, and she had known him all her life. Anyway, “Prestwood, this is…” She turned to introduce Matt, but he was gone.

  A bit of panic settled in her chest. He’d left her in the middle of the taproom? He had told her to wait there. And he did have a patient to tend to. But…Well, she would have thought he’d have said something before just abandoning her in the middle of the room.

  Prestwood blinked at her. “Hope?”

  “I’m not Hope.” She shook her head.

  “Well, you’re not Grace,” he said matter-of-factly. And he was quite right about that.

  “No, I’m not,” she agreed, which only left one person she could be.

  “I am sorry, Patience.” And he looked it as he sagged a bit. “You would think after all these years, I could tell the three of you apart.”

  “It’s fine,” she assured him. After all, very few people could. “But do excuse me. I was in the middle of something.”

  “Of course,” he agreed. “Do tell your sisters hello for me. And I’ll do the same when I see Quent.”

  Without another thought about Lord Prestwood, she pushed her way through the crowd to where Matt and Timmy Gibson were carrying a small boy up the flight of stairs. But Matt’s bag had been left on the floor of the taproom, so Patience snatched it and followed after the trio, up the wooden steps. Heavens, the bag was heavy. Heavier than it looked in any event.

  Rounding a corner, up ahead, the child let out a whimper and Patience winced on his behalf. Poor little boy.

  Robby’s leg was bad, his femur was broken; but it wasn’t as bad as Gibson had made it sound, no bone sticking out. Of course, Robby was the ol
d man’s youngest grandchild, so perhaps that skewed the innkeeper’s view a bit. The boy whimpered and squirmed as they entered the family section of the inn and then down a flight of stairs.

  “Our room is this first one on the right,” Timmy said, struggling with his brother’s arms.

  Robby whimpered again even though Matt was very careful with his legs.

  Timmy kicked the door open behind him, and then dropped Robby’s shoulders once his little brother hovered over the small bed.

  Robby let out a scream.

  “Sorry,” his older brother muttered.

  Matt frowned at Timmy as he grabbed a pillow from the other small bed and gently put it beneath Robby’s leg to elevate it.

  Robby started to cry and his whimpering got louder.

  Matt glanced back at Timmy. “I need my bag now, if you can…”

  “I’ve got it.” Patience’s voice from the threshold washed over him but somehow Matt managed not to show it.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I thought you were going to stay in the taproom...” …With Lord Prestwood or whoever the devil the man was.

  “Well, you’d left your bag, and I thought you’d need it.”

  “Are you an angel?” Robby whimpered from his bed.

  “You’re not dying.” His brother rolled his eyes. “Stop being a baby.”

  “She looks like an angel,” the injured boy insisted.

  And Robby was right. Patience Post did, indeed, look like an angel with her pretty flaxen locks and perfect pink lips. And she was just about as reachable as an angel too.

  Patience smiled at the lad in his bed. “You boys with your angels,” she said as she crossed into the room and handed Matt his bag. “Do you know my brother was obsessed with finding a specific angel for an entire year?”

  “Really?” Robby pushed up on his elbows to see her better. “Did he find her?”

  “In a manner of speaking.” She slid past Matt and sat on the very edge of the bed, which completely mesmerized the boy.

  Matt couldn’t really blame him. He was completely mesmerized by her too. But having Patience there had taken the whimper out of Robby’s voice, so Matt forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. Robby’s broken femur wasn’t as bad as he’d expected, but it was still a broken femur. And they were going to need to keep the swelling down so he could work.

  He gestured Timmy closer and gave clear instructions. “Gather some snow and put it in towel for me. And some water. I need to wash the blood away so I can see what I’m working with.”

  “Yes, sir.” The older boy nodded, then darted from the room to do Matt’s bidding.

  Something Patience said made Robby giggle. How in the world was the child giggling? He’d just been crying a moment ago. “He hit her in the head with a stone?”

  Patience nodded. “That was how he caught his angel, though I don’t recommend throwing stones at girl’s heads for practice. You might not be as lucky as my brother.”

  Robby laughed again, which was nothing short of a miracle. And then he started regaling Patience with a story about an inn guest who swore he could see angels and devils who were always chasing after him. Matt remembered that fellow too. The man should have been bound for Bedlam instead of Scotland. Mad as a March hare.

  Timmy returned with the items Matt needed and he got to work, cleaning Robby’s wound. Matt expected Patience to flinch at some point, to excuse herself and return to the taproom and wait for him. But she’d stayed right at the edge of Robby’s bed, talking to him the whole while. She seemed so genuinely interested in what the boy had to say, she completely distracted him while Matt set his leg, stitched him up and wrapped his thigh. And all the while, Patience was nothing short of amazing.

  By the time Matt was finished with his work, he was fairly certain Robby Gibson was halfway in love with Patience. And knew without a doubt that he was completely in love with her himself. He’d never seen anything like that before, and he never expected it from a genteel lady, born and bred.

  Matt closed his bag, stood up and offered his hand to Patience. “We should be going, my lady.”

  She rose back to her feet and smiled at the injured boy. “You’ll listen to everything Doctor Campion said, right, Robby?”

  The boy nodded quickly. “Yes, Lady Patience, I’ll stay off my leg. I promise.”

  As soon as they were in the corridor, just the two of them, Matt threaded his fingers with hers, and his heart pounded in his chest. If only there was a way to keep her forever.

  “You were wonderful,” she gushed before he could say those exact words to her. “I’ve never seen anything like it, Matt. You fixed him. He was broken and you fixed him.”

  “He’s not healed yet. The rest will depend on him staying off his leg.” Besides, setting a broken leg wasn’t such an accomplishment. He’d done that dozens of times during his career.

  “But without you…”she began.

  “Without you, it would have been a struggle. I’m so glad you were there today.”

  That familiar blush he was starting to adore stained her cheeks once again and turned his insides to mush.

  “Me too,” she said softly. “It wasn’t how I imagined spending my day, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

  “You know that boy is in love with you now? No other girl will ever compare.”

  She laughed as she tugged on his hand. “Poor Robby. I don’t want to break his heart, but there’s someone else I’m afraid I’ve fallen for.”

  Matt pulled her to a stop before they reached the stairs and spun her to face him. Her green eyes rounded as she gazed up at him, and Matt would never tire of staring into her depths. “Hopefully not that gentleman from the taproom,” he teased, though he truly hoped it wasn’t.

  “Prestwood?” Her eyes twinkled when she giggled in response. “He’s known me his whole life and he can’t tell me from my sister. It would be rather foolish to fall for him.”

  The man was an idiot. How could he not know Patience was the most remarkable woman in the world? If he hadn’t already lost his heart before they’d arrived at the Sword and White Rose, he most definitely would have lost it after watching her with Robby Gibson.

  Matt dropped his bag to the floor at their feet and took both of her hands in his. “I could tell you apart in a room full of lookalikes.”

  “You could?” She swallowed and the movement in her neck made his trousers rather tight all of a sudden.

  Matt nodded. “You’re the only one who makes my heart pound, Patience.” And in all honesty, she was the only one who ever had. Not even during his short courtship of Annys Buchanan had he ever felt the way he did when Patience looked at him.

  The sweetest smile graced her face and she pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Matt kissed her back, breathing in the sweet rosewater scent of her and never wanting to let her go. Would he be a giant fool to think he could maybe, just possibly keep her forever? That she might actually agree to spend her life with him? That he could hold her and kiss her like this for the rest of their lives?

  After a moment, he lifted his head and gazed down at her. “Patience, I know I can’t be the sort of man your family would want for you, but…”

  “The only thing that matters is what I want, Matt.” Her blush deepened, which made him grin like an idiot.

  All right, then. Matt would speak with His Grace and fall on his sword if he had to. “We’d better get you back to the castle.”

  Patience would have sworn she was floating beside Matt. Her heart had never felt so light, almost like it was humming and lifting her off her feet. She had never been quite so happy. And lucky. She was the luckiest girl in the world to have met him. Kind, honest, handsome and wonderful, the most wonderful man in all of Yorkshire, in all of England, in all of the world. And he was hers. At least she thought he was. He had declared himself, hadn’t he? Yes, he had. And it was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her.

  She wo
uld have danced through the taproom on the way to Mr. Gibson’s coach if she hadn’t spotted her mother standing right in their path.

  And then all of the gaiety, all of the lighthearted exuberance dissipated from her heart, sending her crashing back to Earth. “Mama,” she breathed out, stopping in her tracks.

  Matt stopped beside her and tightened his hold on her hand, which was probably the wrong thing to do, if the fire blazing in Mama’s eyes was any indication.

  “Patience Post,” she hissed. “You will march outside and place yourself in our carriage this instant.”

  “Mama,” she began. “Please listen. I was—”

  “Was I unclear?” her mother clipped out.

  “No.” Patience slid her hand from Matt’s and cast an apologetic glance up at him. His head was held high as he looked directly at her mother.

  “Lady Bradenham,” he started. “I would like to call on you and His Grace first thing in the morn—”

  “Hardly necessary.” Mama snorted, which would normally earn Patience or her sisters a stern talking to had they done it.

  “I believe it is,” Matt returned quietly. “I am—”

  “—to stay away from my daughters. All of them. Should they each come down suddenly with consumption, I don’t want you anywhere near them. Am I perfectly clear, Doctor Campion?”

  “But, my lady,” he tried again, to no avail as Mama yanked Patience’s arm and escorted her, rather briskly, outside the taproom toward the Bradenham coach…

  But there were two Bradenham coaches, actually. The one they had traveled in from Highfield Park and a very familiar, yet less ostentatious one – Quent’s coach. Quent was here? Why was he…?

  Patience dug in her heels, looking for her brother. Quent would help her if she could just find him. “Mama, Quent’s here!” Prestwood had been in the know about that, hadn’t he?

  “Get in the carriage, Patience,” her mother nearly growled. “And do not make more of a spectacle of yourself than you already have.”

  “But, Mama…”