to him. He is too powerful. A man like that can do whatever he pleases with a girl, without consequence. Your sister, Lady Waverly, does not apprehend the danger. Perhaps she thinks he will marry her.”
“You saw my sister with—with him?” Patience said anxiously. “You are certain?”
“Oh, yes,” said Isabella. “Unless, of course, it was Your Ladyship whom I saw in Bond Street,” she added, with a faint smile.
“Was there blood?” said Patience.
“Heavens, no!” said Isabella.
“Then it wasn’t me,” Patience said darkly. Rising to her feet, she went to the fireplace, where Pru’s invitation to St. James’s Palace had pride of place on the mantel.
“You will take steps to protect your sister, I trust?”
“Oh, yes,” Patience said grimly.
“I fear he is very skilled in the art of seduction, my lady, having practiced it from a very early age,” Isabella said sadly. “He began with the servant girls at his uncle’s estate, I believe, throwing them away when he was done with them.”
Patience stared, very white around the mouth.
Encouraged by the effect her revelations were having on the gullible baroness, Isabella went on with her wholly fictitious account of the rake’s progress. “Unchecked by his uncle, he soon progressed to innocent maids in nearby villages. Farmer’s daughters, then tradesmen’s daughters. Finally, he raped the vicar’s child!”
“The man is a fiend! In America, we know what to do with men like that. Not that we have men like that in America,” Patience said hastily.
“No one can touch him here, because of his uncle. Every day he grows bolder in crime. Not very long ago, he forced his way into a lady’s carriage and—and ravished her—right in front of her maid! She, of course, could not say a word to anyone, for fear of retribution.”
Patience stretched out her hands to Isabella. “Was it you, Lady Isabella?”
“I?” cried Isabella, jumping to her feet. “Certainly not! How dare you! I came here to warn you, and you—you insult me!”
“I beg your pardon most humbly,” cried Patience, now completely convinced that Lady Isabella had been one of Mr. Purefoy’s many victims. “I’m most grateful to you for coming to me with this information. I was very ill when I first arrived in England, and, I’m afraid, I was not able to watch over my sister. But, now that I am better, I will keep her safe. I shall keep her safe.”
“If I were you, I would send her away from London.”
“I should like to,” Patience said. “But I’m afraid my sister would never consent. She is to be presented at court.”
“Oh? Which drawing room?”
“The first.”
Isabella stared. “The first drawing room? How, may I ask, did you manage that?”
“I didn’t,” Patience told her. “It was all Lady Jemima’s doing.”
Isabella knew better. Silly old Jemmie Crump could never have managed it in a hundred years. It must have been Mr. Purefoy. “Do you know that he means to give a ball for her?”
“My God! Is there no end to his wickedness?”
“Apparently not,” said Isabella, who would have killed for a ball at Sunderland House. Gathering up her reticule, she rose gracefully to her feet. “I think I hear my brother returning from his drive. I will meet him downstairs.”
To her surprise, the baroness hugged her. “Thank you for telling me all this,” said Patience. “It can’t have been easy for you. I won’t forget your kindness. I’m sorry if I was a bit prickly at first,” she added awkwardly. “I see now that you only meant well. I hope you will come again. I do want to make you known to my sister.”
“I will certainly call again,” Isabella promised. “As for my brother, I believe he is smitten.”
Patience was taken aback. “Oh! Then perhaps you would be good enough to give him a hint, Lady Isabella. I—I am not interested in marriage at present.”
“Poor Ivor! He will be very sorry to hear that,” Isabella
“You saw my sister with—with him?” Patience said anxiously. “You are certain?”
“Oh, yes,” said Isabella. “Unless, of course, it was Your Ladyship whom I saw in Bond Street,” she added, with a faint smile.
“Was there blood?” said Patience.
“Heavens, no!” said Isabella.
“Then it wasn’t me,” Patience said darkly. Rising to her feet, she went to the fireplace, where Pru’s invitation to St. James’s Palace had pride of place on the mantel.
“You will take steps to protect your sister, I trust?”
“Oh, yes,” Patience said grimly.
“I fear he is very skilled in the art of seduction, my lady, having practiced it from a very early age,” Isabella said sadly. “He began with the servant girls at his uncle’s estate, I believe, throwing them away when he was done with them.”
Patience stared, very white around the mouth.
Encouraged by the effect her revelations were having on the gullible baroness, Isabella went on with her wholly fictitious account of the rake’s progress. “Unchecked by his uncle, he soon progressed to innocent maids in nearby villages. Farmer’s daughters, then tradesmen’s daughters. Finally, he raped the vicar’s child!”
“The man is a fiend! In America, we know what to do with men like that. Not that we have men like that in America,” Patience said hastily.
“No one can touch him here, because of his uncle. Every day he grows bolder in crime. Not very long ago, he forced his way into a lady’s carriage and—and ravished her—right in front of her maid! She, of course, could not say a word to anyone, for fear of retribution.”
Patience stretched out her hands to Isabella. “Was it you, Lady Isabella?”
“I?” cried Isabella, jumping to her feet. “Certainly not! How dare you! I came here to warn you, and you—you insult me!”
“I beg your pardon most humbly,” cried Patience, now completely convinced that Lady Isabella had been one of Mr. Purefoy’s many victims. “I’m most grateful to you for coming to me with this information. I was very ill when I first arrived in England, and, I’m afraid, I was not able to watch over my sister. But, now that I am better, I will keep her safe. I shall keep her safe.”
“If I were you, I would send her away from London.”
“I should like to,” Patience said. “But I’m afraid my sister would never consent. She is to be presented at court.”
“Oh? Which drawing room?”
“The first.”
Isabella stared. “The first drawing room? How, may I ask, did you manage that?”
“I didn’t,” Patience told her. “It was all Lady Jemima’s doing.”
Isabella knew better. Silly old Jemmie Crump could never have managed it in a hundred years. It must have been Mr. Purefoy. “Do you know that he means to give a ball for her?”
“My God! Is there no end to his wickedness?”
“Apparently not,” said Isabella, who would have killed for a ball at Sunderland House. Gathering up her reticule, she rose gracefully to her feet. “I think I hear my brother returning from his drive. I will meet him downstairs.”
To her surprise, the baroness hugged her. “Thank you for telling me all this,” said Patience. “It can’t have been easy for you. I won’t forget your kindness. I’m sorry if I was a bit prickly at first,” she added awkwardly. “I see now that you only meant well. I hope you will come again. I do want to make you known to my sister.”
“I will certainly call again,” Isabella promised. “As for my brother, I believe he is smitten.”
Patience was taken aback. “Oh! Then perhaps you would be good enough to give him a hint, Lady Isabella. I—I am not interested in marriage at present.”
“Poor Ivor! He will be very sorry to hear that,” Isabella
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