face that she thought the entire group beneath her contempt.
It didn’t help his temperament that he partly shared her senti—
ments.
At the moment the group did appear silly, their comments
trivial and unimportant. The fact that a maid recognized it did not sit well with him.
He pierced a potato with his fork and chewed with vigor.
How dare she stand there and look back at him like that? He
could feel her judgment of everyone, himself included, and
found he was on the defensive.
What was so wrong with the people seated at the table?
4 8
Yes, Lady Hervey and her daughter had led sheltered lives, and seemed rather ignorant, but it was not their fault. It was a result of their station.
And, admittedly, mother and daughter were not above
competing with each other. It was sometimes hard to tell who
flirted more with the male members of the party. But Teach
didn’t mind it so much when he was on the receiving end. Who
wouldn’t want two beautiful women fighting over him?
And William could be a bit overbearing, but that was
because he was the son of a duke. There were three things in
life William could not live without. Bad poetry, sugary treats,
and women. In his case, two of those vices prevented the attain—
ment of the third. William recognized his flaws and was often
self-deprecating, the complete opposite of Teach’s father, which explained why Teach had always enjoyed spending time with his old school friend.
In truth, the Earl of Lorimar was no more of a gentleman
than Patience was a gentlewoman.
By the time dessert was served, Teach was as tightly wound
as a top. He declined the tartlet placed before him and gritted
his teeth, waiting for the meal to be over.
The other guests, unaware of his suffering, dug into their
desserts with enthusiasm.
Across the table, Patience’s eyes grew wide with the first
bite. While everyone around her enjoyed the dessert, the veins
in her neck began to bulge, and tears streamed down her face.
4 9
She emptied her goblet and motioned for Anne to pour more.
“I’ll have to go and fetch some, miss,” Anne said, her lips
twisting into what appeared to Teach to be a smug grin.
From his vantage point, it looked as though the decanter in
Anne’s hands was half-full, but she left the room so quickly, he couldn’t be sure.
He jumped up, but when he reached Patience’s side of the
table, he did not quite know how to ease the situation. William, too, stood next to them, for once at a loss for words. By the time Anne returned to the dining room, Patience’s face was a
deep shade of red, and she was fanning herself with her napkin,
gasping for breath.
Lady Hervey was bent over at the waist next to Patience,
pushing the tartlet around on its dish. “I don’t see anything. I can’t imagine what it could be.”
Anne removed the offending plate and returned it to the
sideboard. Lord Hervey insisted on calling a doctor. Drummond was the only voice of reason, contending that a doctor
wasn’t necessary.
“She simply ate something that didn’t agree with her,” he
said. “Perhaps she is not used to the variety of cinnamon the
cook uses.”
It took Patience three more goblets of wine before she
stopped choking and was able to recover somewhat. Everyone
took their seats once more.
After that, Drummond kept a tight rein on the afternoon’s
5 0
proceedings. The conversation revolved around the Deliverance, and everyone recognized just how passionate Richard Drummond was about his ship.
By the time the meal was over, Teach wasn’t the only one
sorely in need of a drink.
Everyone stood, the men moving in groups toward the
library, the women to the drawing room. Teach held the door
open as William exited. He made as if to follow him, but
stopped in the doorway.
Mary and Anne moved in to clean up the table. Mary was
nearest the door that led from the dining room to the kitchen
and slid out before Anne could stop her. The door swung shut
behind her.
Teach heard Anne curse, clearly annoyed, her arms full of
dishes. She held out her hand for the knob but couldn’t extend
enough to reach it. Teach crossed the floor behind her, reached
over her, and pulled the door open.
Trapped between the door and his body, she froze. He knew
he was using his size to intimidate her, but nothing else seemed to work where she was concerned. She was as bold as a badger and just as fierce. He could feel the heat emanating from her.
Anne swallowed, turning to meet his gaze.
“What did you put in the tartlet?” he demanded.
Her face paled, and her blue eyes flitted to the door on the
other side of the room before meeting his gaze again. “I don’t
know what you mean.”
51
“Don’t lie to me. You put something in Miss Patience’s apple tartlet. I want to know what it was.”
“Margery was the one who baked the tartlets. I suggest you
go ask her,” she said.