Tempting Miss Allender (Regency Rakes 3) by Wendy Vella Page A

She looked so delicious that he had to clench his fists to stop from reaching for her.
    “Tell me first why you are angry with me, and then we shall move on to the threat that hangs over your family.” Mathew rolled down his sleeves and then retrieved his jacket.
    “Pardon?” The shock on her face confirmed his words. “I have no idea what you mean.”
    “Remember that I saw you that morning, Patience, running down the middle of the street, seemingly oblivious to everyone around you. You were scared, as was your brother. If I had some doubts before, when Charlie said he needed to be ‘ready to fight him,’ he removed them. So who is the ‘him’ he is referring to?”
    “I have nothing to say to you.”
    “I am not leaving, so it would be in your best interest to talk to me.”
    “I don’t have to tell you anything, Lord Belmont. You have absolutely no control over me.”
    He reached the door before her, and closed it, then stood with his back braced against it. “Please tell me.”
    “You stopped me from exiting a room two mornings ago, and I disliked it then. I dislike it even more so now, my lord. Step aside,” she said, clenching her fists.
    “What do you plan to do, punch me?”
    She looked like a defiant child, face set and determined, hands fisted at her sides. Of course she wasn’t; she was a beautiful woman who was slowly making him feel alive when inside he’d been dead for so long.
    “I will if you won’t move.” She was snarling now, which was better than the cool, aloof Patience he had seen since her return to London.
    “I am your friend, Patience. Let me help you.”
    “We—we cannot be friends.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you were rude and treated me like an annoyance, rather than a friend,” she snapped, her control having fled. “You ignored me, could barely speak or acknowledge me when I arrived in London seven years ago, and while I knew you were grieving for Anthony, and even forgave you for your behavior, I could not forgive what I heard one night at the Linden ball.”
    “What happened at the Linden ball?” Mathew couldn’t remember, as he’d forgotten a lot of what had happened in the years following Anthony’s death, but he guessed this was what Lord Stadler had alluded to.
    “It matters not.” She looked away from him. “I should not have spoken of it.”
    “It matters to me, Patience, so please tell me.” He touched his fingers lightly to her jaw, turning her eyes back to his. “Please.” He watched the emotion play across her face and then she spoke.
    “I overheard some of your friends discussing me, and the bet placed at Whites, about how I was the debutante most likely to not secure a match this season and Miss Lillyman the one most likely to.”
    “I know of no such bet.”
    “You were there, Mathew, and you laughed when they asked your opinion. Lord Howe even said that perhaps you would like to offer something in my defense, as you were a family friend of the Allenders.”
    He couldn’t remember the incident, but could see he’d hurt her deeply by not defending her.
    “You said that you had nothing to add, and that they were all very likely right, and I would be the last to wed as I was not overly beautiful and appeared to have no suitors, nor was I a success like the other debutantes.”
    “And this is what you’ve held against me for the last seven years?” Mathew said.
    “Yes…no.” She exhaled. “I know it was silly. I was silly back then, but I idolized you, Mathew, and you acted as if I were an annoyance. After I left, I never heard from you again.”
    “Why did you leave?”
    “Does it matter?” The anger had gone now, drained away as swiftly as it had come.
    He touched her cheek. “It does to me.”
    “I hated my debut, and every day seemed worse than the last. Everyone had friends except me, and suddenly men older than my grandfather wanted to dance and get close to me. I had been sheltered and loved, but still felt like a child