Page 75 of Redemption

Her conviction as to his integrity emphasized how much she’d come to trust him, but the fact didn’t change her position with regard to his marriage proposal. Lady Patience slowly rose from her seat without her gaze leaving Rhea’s face. With a nod, Percy’s sister sighed as an expression of sadness crossed her face.

“You’re as stubborn as I am, and it is apt to cost you dearly. Not so long ago I almost lost my husband because of that trait.” The woman flinched as a haunted look flashed in her eyes. Lady Patience headed for the door, and paused at Rhea’s side to touch her arm. “Do not make the mistake of letting any real or imagined obstacles stand in the way of your happiness, Rhea. Love can conquer and forgive anything, if you allow it too.”

With those parting words, Percy’s sister left Rhea standing alone in the parlor. Frozen in place, she struggled with the warning Lady Patience had given her. Was it possible she was allowing her past to stand between her and Percy? The answer to that question wasn’t as troubling as her desire to follow Lady Patience’s advice and trust Percy completely with her happiness.

“Where has the lady gone, Miss Rhea?” At Ginny’s soft cry of dismay, Rhea turned to look at the girl.

“Lady Patience had to return to London for an appointment.”

“Oh, I was hoping she might let me see her hat up close.” The stark disappointment in Ginny’s voice made Rhea move forward to give the girl a small hug.

“I’m sure she would have if she’d had time to stay.”

The moment she said the words, Rhea realized it was true. Lady Patience had appeared to have had an epiphany, for the other woman had left the house without covering the scars on her face. Rhea’s scars were of a different nature, and she didn’t think she could put them aside to obtain the life Percy had offered her.

§ § §

The front door to Beatrice Fremont’s house closed behind Rhea as she paused in the foyer to remove her hat. She pushed the hat pin into the crown of the accessory then removed her gloves and dropped both items on the hall table. Critically studying her reflection in the foyer’s mirror, she saw a woman who looked pale and drawn. She pushed aside the thought she might be feeling melancholy, but she couldn’t deny she was tired.

She’d returned to London late yesterday in anticipation of Ashford securing Fanny’s and Harry’s freedom two nights hence. Unfortunately, she had not slept well last night as she wondered whether Percy would seek her out today. Early this morning, she’d visited Ashford’s office to try and convince him to let her accompany him Friday night. The private investigator’s refusal wasn’t unexpected, but it was disappointing.

While she’d not asked, Ashford had indicated Percy had visited the investigator’s office the day before. It didn’t surprise her to learn Percy intended to be present for the rescue, but she wasn’t certain how she would react when she saw him again. Like a coward, she’d spent the rest of the morning until lunch in the National Gallery to avoid any possibility of seeing him.

She was still feeling far too vulnerable with the revelation that she loved him. The longer she could put off seeing him, the easier it would be to leave London for good. In the back of her head, she heard the sound of mocking laughter, but she ignored it. The soft murmur of voices penetrated her thoughts for the first time.

She heard the rumblings of a male voice, and immediately stiffened. Was Percy here? A woman’s voice echoed loudly in apparent response to the man speaking. Rhea had barely taken a step toward the salon door, when the front door opened behind her. She immediately turned around and stared in surprise at the sight of Arianna entering the house.

“Arianna, I'm so happy to see you. Aunt Beatrice told me last night that you and Blake have reconciled. I had intended to come see you later today.” Rhea hugged her sister warmly then pulled back to look at her sister. “What is it? What's wrong?”

“I’m uncertain. I received a note from Aunt Beatrice to come quickly as she needed to speak with me urgently." Arianna’s puzzlement matched Rhea’s, and an ominous sensation crested over her.

"Did she elaborate in her message as to what might be wrong?"

"No, and that's what concerns me."

Rhea didn't have a chance to reply to Arianna’s comment before the salon door opened. Beatrice Fremont’s face was white with fear, the look of fear on her aunt’s face made Rhea’s stomach lurch. Had something happened to Lord Foxworth? She stepped forward to ask her aunt the question, but Beatrice Fremont simply stepped back to let her and Arianna enter the room. Rhea’s heart began to race. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. As she crossed the room’s threshold, Rhea heard her sister’s gasp as a man at the fireplace turned to face them.

“Hello, my poppet.”

At the sound of Ruckley’s voice, Rhea swayed slightly as the room faded in and out. Struggling to control her panic, she clasped her hands in front of her and focused on the task of regaining control of her senses. As she met Ruckley’s gaze, she buried her fear beneath layers of hate. One of the lessons she’d learned from him was to never let your enemy see your fear.

Determined to adhere to the lessons the despicable man had taught her, she deliberately schooled her features into a nonchalant mask. Rhea didn’t take her eyes off Ruckley as she let all the hate and anger she’d buried so deep burn its way through her blood. It was easy to welcome the red wave of violent emotions as she stared at his coarse, pock-marked features. Hate was the strongest emotion that spiraled through her, and she drew strength from it as she eyed Ruckley in silence for a moment.

“Let me guess how you found me, Ruckley. Edgar succeeded where you failed.” Her taunt made the man glare at her. A moment later he was smiling with smug amusement.

“Don’t matter none how I found you, Rhea—”

“My name is Miss Bennett.”

Her voice lashed out across the room with a white-hot fury. The quiet menace in the statement caused the stocky man’s body to jerk in surprise before he narrowed his malevolent gaze at her. “So that’s how it is, is it?”

“Arianna and I paid our father’s debt to you, Ruckley. We paid it seven times over. You have no business here.”

The criminal eyed her with malicious amusement and with a gnarled hand, he stroked at his grimy beard. “You’ve gotten all high and mighty since we last saw each other. Quite the lady now, isn’t you?”

“What do you want?”

Rhea’s fingernails dug into the back of her hands, and she forced herself not to look away from the beady eyes shrewdly assessing her. He was trying to determine how frightened she was, but she refused to let the bastard see her fear. He’d use it against her.