Chapter 5

Penelope and Jeffrey returned to Summerfield Castle well after sundown. William Summerfield paced the foyer nervously, awaiting his daughter’s safe return. When she stormed through the door and brushed past without greeting him, he called out to her with a stern voice. The deep tone reverberated throughout the foyer, the crystals on the massive chandelier overhead tinkled softly.

“Where have you been?”

“I went riding, father. Why did you send Jeffrey after me?” she snapped, standing at the foot of the long staircase that led to the bedchambers on the second level.

“I did not send Jeffrey after you, he went on his own,” he replied.

Penelope glared at her father then at Jeffrey who now stood just behind William, a look of sadness on his face.

“Come into my study. We are going to discuss your wedding plans.” William turned and walked toward the study, not allowing his daughter to answer him.

She turned and stormed up the staircase, ignoring her father’s request. “There shall be no wedding!” she cried.

Jeffrey followed William into the study and slumped down into the chair opposite William. His body still hummed from the pleasure Penelope had given him when they made love, but his heart was hurting. Now that he’d had her, he wanted more, but he knew she was not willing to give more.

“What happened?” William asked.

“You do not want to know, sir.”

“Yes, I do. I would not ask if I did not want to know, Jeffrey.”

“She is angry because you are forcing her to marry me.”

“Then let us appease the child, I will tell her she can choose her own husband.”

“I am afraid there is more to it than that, Lord William.”

“How much more?”

“Lady Paxton?”

“I think you should leave, Mildred. Patrick and I have some things to discuss.”

Kimberly fought to keep from lashing out at the woman. She knew of her reputation as a gossip but never thought she would stoop to this level.

“I am sorry, Kimberly,” Mildred said as she walked toward the door. “I was not aware that you had --”

“Please, Mildred. I shall see you later.”

Patrick glared angrily at Mildred as she gave a quick curtsey, then left quickly before she was tempted to say anything further. Instead of feeling guilt at what she’d revealed, she felt relieved. Perhaps she can find happiness with him, she thought as she walked down the footpath and boarded the small wagon that brought her here. She grabbed the reins of the horse, then made a clicking sound with her tongue.

“I think we need to have a talk, Kimberly,” Patrick said, grasping her arm and setting her down in the chair. He slumped in the chair across from her, ran his hands through his hair, then sighed heavily.

“I was not completely honest with you about who I am, Patrick.”

“That is obvious, Kimberly. Perhaps you would like to tell me now?”

“I will tell you, but I would like to know why you did not tell me who you were?”

“I did not feel it necessary. My title holds no authority here, Kimberly. I told you I was in search of a new life.”

“But why were you not happy?”

“I felt bored with my life, Kimberly. I wanted excitement and adventure.”

“Well, this is hardly excitement or adventure,” she said, motioning around the small house she called home.

“But it is, Kimberly. I enjoy doing things around here for you. I was not able to do that at home. I had servants and maids who spoiled me. All I had to do was say I wanted something done, and it would get done. I could never do it for myself, even if I did know how.”

“I do appreciate the work you have done around here, Patrick. There is always something that needs to be done. I am, however, still confused as to why you did not tell me this the day we met.”

“Would it have made a difference?”

“No. I suppose not.”

“You would have treated me as everyone at home treated me, Kimberly. I liked being treated as a normal man with no title.”

“You are right. I would not have allowed you to stay in the shed for even one night if I had known who you really were.”

“So does this change things between us?”

“No.”

“Now. About Mrs. Sandler addressing you as Lady Paxton. Would you care to explain that?”

Kimberly let out a heavy sigh and broke eye contact with Patrick. She suddenly found herself trembling and folded her hands on the table in front of her. Will he leave if I reveal who I really am?

“Kimberly?” he asked, his arms folded across his broad chest.

“Please, Patrick. Allow me to think of how to approach what I am about to tell you.” She rose to her feet and paced nervously, wringing her hands together and feeling her heart beat furiously.

“Is it that difficult?” he asked.

“I do not want you to -- “ she trailed off. “You may not like what I have to tell you, Patrick. I worry that it will cause you to leave.”

“I promise I will not leave you, Kimberly,” he said as he rose to his feet and approached her. He cupped her chin and turned her head to face him. “Nothing will change how I feel about you,” he added, bowing his head and placing a soft kiss on her lips.

The sweet taste of her lips was nearly his undoing. He took a step away from her, gazing into her deep green eyes and seeing them sparkle. He knew at that moment that no matter what she was about to tell him, he loved her.

Patrick took the few steps back to his chair and sat down. Kimberly sighed heavily then returned to her chair across from him. She fixed her gaze at the table then took another deep breath before she spoke.

“Lord William Summerfield is my father,” she said barely above a whisper.

“Pardon?” Patrick replied, sitting forward and straining to hear her.

“Lord William Summerfield is my father,” she repeated a bit louder.

Patrick’s mouth hung open in shock at what she’d just revealed. “How is that possible? If he is your father, why do you not live in Summerfield Castle? How did you come to be here in Norfolk?”

“Please, Patrick, let me tell you this,” she said, placing a finger to his lips. He nodded and kept himself silent.

“I only found out two years ago that he was my father. My mother was Lady Summerfield’s chambermaid. She fell in love with Lord Summerfield almost as soon as she’d met him. He’d arrived home one evening after a party, and he was quite drunk. Lady Summerfield had decided to spend the evening at Ainsworth Castle, your home. She had become ill and was not up for the carriage ride home.”

“When Lord Summerfield retired for the evening, he took advantage of his wife’s absence and forced himself on my mother. They only spent one night together. When she realized she was carrying his child, she confronted him. He denied the affair and sent her away.”

“Unfortunately for him, my mother and Lady Summerfield were very close. My mother went to her one afternoon when she knew Lord Summerfield was away and told her of what had happened. When Lady Summerfield confronted her husband about it, he broke down and admitted to seducing my mother. They did not want to disgrace the family name, so they paid to have my mother sent here, to America.”

Kimberly paused and glanced up at Patrick who was gazing at her blankly. Had he heard a word I just said? she wondered as he sat silently and watched her.

“Patrick?”

He shook his head and snapped himself out of the trance-like state he was in. “What happened to your mother?” he asked.

“She arrived in America, met a man, and fell in love. They had another child, my brother, Andrew. My father, well, the man who raised me as his daughter, was killed in the war, and Andrew perished from influenza five years ago. He would have been eighteen this year, three years younger than myself. My mother perished from an infection last winter.”

“How did Mrs. Sandler know who you were, Kimberly?”

“She and my husband are the only two people I have ever told of who I am, Patrick,” she replied.

“How did you know who I was?”

“My mother told me of the Ainsworths. I just came to my own conclusions. Am I wrong about who you are?”

“No.”

“How did Mrs. Sandler know who I was?”

“We spoke occasionally about my father and your family.”

Patrick took her hand in his and held it gently. Their eyes locked, and Kimberly felt a heated blush rise in her cheeks. She forced herself to pull her hand away and then rose to her feet.

“I expect you will be leaving now,” she said with a trembling voice.

Her heart ached at the thought of him leaving, and she couldn’t face him. She gazed out the small window over the washbasin and held her breath while she awaited his answer.

She felt his warmth behind her, then felt his hands on her shoulders. “I told you, nothing will change how I feel about you, Kimberly. I promised I would not leave,” he said quietly. Unconsciously, she leaned against him and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his body against hers.

“Thank you, Patrick,” she said, just barely above a whisper.

Patrick felt every curve of her body against him. He had to will himself not to take her right there. His erection was painful, and he knew she could feel it pressed between them. He forced himself to pull away and then turned and walked back to the table. Kimberly let out a heavy sigh when she felt him pull away. She didn’t turn to face him, but instead, kept her gaze fixated on two sparrows playing on a branch of the tree outside the window.

“What needs done today, Kimberly?” he asked after a long moment of silence.

“Nothing,” she replied.

“What about that wagon I saw beside the house? It looks as though the wheel needs repair.”

“It does, Patrick. But you are in no condition to do anything today. Doctor Wright insisted you get your rest.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, righting himself and walking to the door.

Kimberly turned and saw Patrick limping and rushed to block him from leaving the house. “You are not listening to me, Patrick. Please, you need your rest.”

Patrick sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair. “Fine,” he groused. He turned and walked back toward the sleeping quarters.

“I am not completely helpless. I can repair some things myself,” she told him as she followed him.

Kimberly grabbed some bandages off the small table by her bed and brought them over to Patrick’s bed. “Let me change that bandage, then I will make you some soup.”

He eased himself to the bed without removing his shirt or his trousers, and Kimberly stood there glaring at him.

“What?”

“How am I supposed to change your bandage if you still have your trousers on?”

Patrick grumbled and groused as he rose to his feet, then removed his shirt. He hesitated when he reached for the snap on his trousers and saw the bright red hue of Kimberly’s cheeks.