A Millionaire for Cinderella(26)

Well, she hadn’t listened, and the crash was killing her.

Stuart stood and crossed to the window. “I trusted you.” The same words he’d said when he first came in. Violating his trust had been her biggest crime of all.

Except...

“Did you?” she asked suddenly. “Did you really trust me?”

“You know I did. I told you about Gloria, for crying out loud.”

“Then how did you find out about my record?” Last time she looked, there wasn’t a criminal record fairy handing out information. A person had to go searching for it. “I don’t believe it. You had me investigated didn’t you?”

“I—” He couldn’t even look her in the eye.

“You did. Unbelievable.” Sitting here, making her feel bad about her violating his trust, when all the time... “Face it, lapushka.” She drew the word out as sourly as she could. “You never trusted me all, did you?”

“That’s not true.” Stuart shook his head.

Right. And she was the Queen of England. Suddenly, the brownstone was much too small for the two of them. She needed to leave right now.

“Where are you going?” Stuart asked when she stalked toward the foyer.

“Out.” Unless she was fired, she still had the right to come and go as she pleased. “I need some air.”

She noticed Stuart didn’t try to stop her. Looked like the fantasy truly was over.

Well, like she always said, Prince Charming ain’t walking through that door. Instead, she was walking out.



“Patience?” Soft though it was, Ana’s voice still managed to echo through the brownstone. “Where is she? I thought you said she was waiting for us at home?”

“I thought she was,” Stuart told her. A lie. He’d been hoping Patience was waiting for them. He had no idea if she’d ever come back after walking out.

This was his fault. If he hadn’t been such a jerk when he’d found out about her arrest. But he’d been hurt, and he’d lashed out.

A soft meow sounded behind them. “Nigel, my sweetie pie. Did you miss Mommy?” His aunt hobbled over to the stairway. “He looks like he’s lost weight. Don’t you think?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” At the moment, he was more concerned with Patience’s whereabouts. “Maybe she went to the store.”

Ana was trying to scratch an excited Nigel’s head without falling over. “But she knew we were on our way. Why wouldn’t she wait until we got here?”

“Perhaps she went to get something for your return. Tea, maybe.” But he’d already discounted his theory soon as the words left his mouth. “Or maybe she’s upstairs and can’t hear us in her room.” An equally lame suggestion, but he clung to the possibility.

“Tell you what,” he said, scooping up Nigel. “Why don’t I show you what we’ve set up in the front parlor? Then, while you and Nigel are having a good reunion  , I’ll go see if I can track down Patience.”

But he was pretty sure he knew the answer. The air in the brownstone was different; the silence thicker than usual. By the time he went upstairs and spied Patience’s open bedroom door, he was certain.

He stood in the doorway while his heart shattered. The bed where they’d made love this morning had been stripped to the mattress, the bedding folded in neat piles waiting to be washed. She’d left the closet door open. One lone hanger, the only sign the space had ever held clothes, lay on the floor.

A blue scarf hung on the doorknob. He recognized it as the one Patience wore to the dinner dance. Balling the cloth in his fist, he pressed it to his cheek, and inhaled deep. He remembered the way her scent had teased him while they’d danced. The memory mocked him now. The pain in his chest threatened to cut him at the knees.

Dear God, but the house already felt emptier. And it was all his fault.

On the bureau lay an envelope with Ana’s name scrawled across the front. No goodbye for him, he thought sadly. He didn’t deserve one.

“Is she upstairs?” Ana asked when he returned.

“No. She’s gone.”

“What do you mean gone? I don’t understand.” Her eyes narrowed when he handed her the envelope. He was doing a lousy job of hiding his feelings, and she knew it. “What’s going on Stuart?”

“It’s complicated,” he replied. “You should read the letter.”

“Do you know what’s in it?”

“No.” But he could guess.

“What does she mean she couldn’t bear to face me after I found out?” Ana looked up with a frown. “Found out about what?”

It was the question he’d been dreading. “Patience...” Staring at his hands, he searched for the right words. “Turns out she was keeping secrets.” Briefly, he told her about Patience’s arrest and her job at Feathers, doing the best he could to leave out the gory details. When he finished, Ana looked back to the letter that was on her lap. “I’m sorry, Tetya.”

“I figured her story had to be something pretty awful for her to lie about it.”

“She was afraid—” He whipped his head around. “You knew she was lying?”

“Of course, I did. Surely you don’t think I’m that naive.” Her glare chased off any possible response. “I could tell she was hiding something during her interview. It was obvious she didn’t know a thing about being a proper housekeeper. And the way she stuttered on about forgetting her agency paperwork...the girl is not a very good liar, you know. After she left, I spoke to the agency, and they told me the real candidate had gotten stuck on the subway.”

Stuart owed his aunt an apology. She was far sharper than he gave her credit.

“Wait,” he said, backing off that thought. “If you knew she was lying, why did you hire her? Why didn’t you call her out on the story?”

“Because the poor dear was clearly desperate. Leaping at the chance to clean house?”

“Still, for all you knew, she could have been trying to rob you.” The questions were moot at this point. He was simply looking for grounds to justify his mistrust. Hoping for some sliver of a reason to prove he wasn’t an arrogant, jaded fool.

“Nonsense,” Ana replied. “Patience couldn’t hurt a fly. Anyone who spends five minutes with her can tell that.”

Yes, they could. Even he, with all his suspicion, had recognized her gentle sweetness. It’s why he’d fallen so hard in spite of himself.

“Besides, Nigel liked her and he doesn’t like just anyone. That alone told me I could trust her. As for not asking her story...I figured when the time came, she would tell me what I needed to know.”

In other words, his aunt had decided based on the opinion of a cat who, sadly enough, was a better judge of character than he was.

“In a lot of ways, Patience reminds me of the animals at the shelter,” she told him. “Lost and looking for a place to call home. I know it was a rash decision—a dangerous one, even—but I couldn’t turn her away.”

“When you put it that way...” It didn’t sound so rash at all. Simply confident in the goodness of human nature. Something he’d always had trouble with. He thought he’d conquered his mistrust, but apparently not.

“She has a way of getting under your skin, doesn’t she?” Now the guilt arrived, strong and harsh. He’d managed to do what his aunt couldn’t: chase Patience away. He’d let her sweetness frighten him and turn him into a bully.

“I’ve really screwed things up, haven’t I?” he said.

“Yes, you have.”

Ana never did believe in mincing words. “What do I do?” He looked to her face, hoping in her wisdom she’d have a solution.

“For starters, you can get me my housekeeper back. I care too much for her to lose her.”

“Me, too,” Stuart whispered. He should never have overreacted the way he did when he’d read Bob’s report. If he’d acted calmly, Patience might be here with him right now. Instead, he’d let his heart give in to suspicion. And she was gone.

“She’s never going to forgive me.”

“You’ll never know until you try.”

When he shook his head, she reached over and took his hands, her gnarled grip stronger than he expected. “Listen to me. I had the chance to fight for my Nigel. I didn’t and I lost him forever. I don’t want to see the same thing happen to you. You have already missed out on so many years of happiness because of Theodore and that gold digger he married. Patience is your second chance. Don’t be like me, lapushka—fight for her.”

His aunt was right. He couldn’t give up on Patience. He had to find her if only to apologize for being an ass. “How did he track her down, though? He doubted she’d left a forwarding address at the bottom of her goodbye note. But....

There was one person Patience would contact no matter where she ran off to. One person she would never desert. And he had that person’s email address. A kernel of hope took root inside him.

Rising, he kissed Ana on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to send an important note to someone in France.”