The Notorious Bridegroom. Kit Donner

      ZEBRA BOOKS

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

       http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      To Mom, Dad, Kim, Jill, Lee, Todd

      Of course, Frank

      My “patrons”: Alice R. and Helen D.

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Chapter 29

      Chapter 30

      Chapter 31

      Author’s Note

      Chapter 1

      Winchelsea

      Southeast England

      Spring 1803

      Patience Mandeley considered the wisdom of her plan, and determined that either she was very courageous, believed in guardian angels, or was quite tetched in the head. At the moment, she leaned toward the latter. But what else could she do? She could think of no other way to save her younger brother Rupert from treason charges.

      “Miss Patience, quit woolgathering, and let us be off to the fair,” her companion of two days, Colette, told her, smiling. “Time enough to worry about your new position later.”

      Patience started, suddenly awakened from her reverie. She slowly rose, gathered her bonnet and matching shawl, and followed her friend out the door of the inn. Her plan had to work. There wasn’t much time to help Rupert before the magistrate found him.

      Against her better judgment, Colette had convinced her to enjoy Winchelsea’s Mop Fair before they began their work in the morning. Colette, attired in a black walking dress with light gray mantle, and Patience in deep blue with a light blue cashmere shawl, strolled down the main street joining the other fairgoers.

      Patience kept watch for her brother, who might be lurking in the shadows of the lively crowd. She had to get word to him about her plan that would save him.

      The twilight hours of the fair cast a dusky rose on the street choked full of locals, travelers, merchants, and farmers. Most of the noisy rumble headed toward the market square, where a bonfire blazed merrily near rows of oxen on spits wafting a delicious aroma to the hungry crowd.

      The women made their way to the merchants’ tents, hearing the vendors shouting over each other to entice their customers with exotic perfume from the Far East, bright-colored linen, or a sweet orange. The Annual Mop Fair brought a variety of folk from several miles around who looked forward to this spring event. Crowded streets slowed the ladies’ walk as Patience searched and worried about her younger brother and his troubles.

      Examining the softest of silks and delicious gingerbread occupied the ladies for a time until they heard a loud voice halloing the multitude to the Wild Beast show. The crowd surged forward, pulling Colette in its wake. Patience started after her friend but stopped suddenly.

      Someone tugged on her skirts. “Lady, can ye help me find Bella?” a pitiful little voice asked.

      Startled, Patience glanced down to find a forlorn small child with tear-stained cheeks, clutching a wooden doll. Four or five at the most, the girl peered at Patience from beneath her tattered gray day cap. She looked to be a sweet tyke, dressed in a faded blue frock, well-worn shoes, with long, disheveled gold curls bobbing down her back. Patience was always lost when it came to children and animals, and the little girl caught at her heart.

      “Hello, little one. What’s your name?” Patience inquired, removing a handkerchief from her reticule. She knelt down, and after wetting a corner of the lacy white square, she rubbed at the child’s dirty face and wiped away her tears.

      “Me name’s Sally, and I need to find me Aunt Bella. Do ye think she’s lost too?” the girl sniffled.

      Patience smiled. “No, your aunt must be very worried and looking everywhere for you.” Confident they would find the child’s relative somewhere nearby, she tucked the handkerchief in her sleeve and held out her hand. “Come, let us see if we can find her,” she told the small girl as they walked together toward the bonfire.

      “What’s yer name?” the little girl asked, her head cocked to look up at Patience.

      Patience hesitated before revealing the name she had chosen for this masquerade. It simply wouldn’t do for anyone to learn Patience’s true identity. Looking down at the small child, she told her, “Patience Grundy.” She noticed Sally clutched something to her chest. “Is that your doll?”

      Sally’s eyes opened wide and an innocent smile hinted at missing teeth. “Me baby is Jane. See here, Miss Grundy,” she said as she held her unclothed wooden doll for Patience to get a closer look at four sticks and a wooden ball for a head.

      Patience’s eyes widened in consternation. “Does your doll have any clothes?”

      “I couldn’t find any.” Sally shrugged her thin shoulders. “Someday, I’ll ha’ a baby with lots of clothes and hair. But me aunt says I ha’ to be a good girl. But I’m always a good girl.” She frowned, obviously confused by adult logic.

      They reached the boisterous crowd in the square who were enjoying the fiddle music, shared ale, and succulent dripping roast pig and oxen meat. But though Patience examined the merrymakers intently, no one appeared to be looking for lost kin. The tiny little hand in hers firmed her determination.

      She was about to ask Sally to describe her aunt, when they reached the fiery pier surrounded by those seeking warmth on this damp spring night. Just as Patience released the little girl’s hand briefly to adjust her bonnet, a foxed young man pushed past them and knocked Sally toward the flames.

      Patience uttered a shriek and lunged for Sally but a gentleman nearby proved faster. He grabbed the child before she could feel the heat’s sting. As the stranger lifted the child up and away from the blaze, Sally squealed in delight.

      Breathless with relief, Patience watched the gentleman set the child down safely and told her, “You must be more careful, little one.”

      His concerned voice invoked a warm smile of gratitude from Patience. Before she could express her appreciation, a young man interrupted them, handing a black cane with a gold tip to Sally’s rescuer.

      “Lord Londringham, you dropped your cane, over