Guardian's Patience, page 23
part #5 of Guardians of the Race Series
“Of course it can be done,” she’d laughed and continued with her reading.
Two minutes later, Broadbent returned with several ties draped over his arm.
“Off with your clothes, little dove. We will follow the description to the letter and see which one of us is right.”
What woman wouldn’t adore a man who could admit he was wrong? Though he still wouldn’t concede that her books were literature.
“They’re erotic novels, Pookie, a legitimate form of literature. Admit it.”
He refused, but would always check out whatever she was reading. He would point out spelling or grammatical errors, if there were any, before saying, “Off with your clothes, little dove, I don’t believe that bit of salacious drivel you’re reading can actually be done.”
“Is this a good time to mention that I’m thinking of writing one of those erotic novels?” she asked him now and winced when he frowned. “I like living here with you. I like the people in this house and I don’t mind helping, but I’m not needed here. I need something to fill my time and I can do it right here.”
He didn’t lecture as she expected. He nodded and then asked the question she’d prepared for.
“I think Patience Delecourt, that you can do whatever you set your mind to. What about your shop?”
“I wasn’t making any money anyway. I can probably rent the place and the apartment for enough to cover my loans. I’ve got enough put by to cover the bills until I can set something up.”
Broadbent knew she was lying. She had absolutely no skill in deception, but he held his counsel. Whatever her true reason, it was one that would keep her here with him. And that, for him, was all that mattered.
~*~
“If you dare tell them where that name comes from, I will paddle that delightful little bottom of yours until it is as pink as your hair.”
“Thanks for the offer,” she giggled, “but I’m not into paddles.” Pinkie took his hand in hers and pulled him down to whisper in his ear. As he cocked his head to listen, she placed his hand on her rear. “But the hand fits nicely.”
She giggled again when face flaming, Broadbent sputtered, “Patience Delecourt, you are incorrigible.”
“And it’s all your fault. I never met another guy with hands like yours.” She playfully kissed his nose. “Love ya, Pooks.”
And that was when it happened, the thing the other women had told her about. It wasn’t surrounded by candlelight and roses as they predicted. It wasn’t couched in flowery prose or poetry. It wasn’t said in a moment of passion or dramatically from bended knee, although his face did get a little fierce looking.
Broadbent wrapped his arm around her and drew her so close, she had to look up into his face or be smothered against his chest.
“You’re mine,” he growled, “And if you ever meet another ‘guy’ with hands like mine, you’d better remember it.”
He bent to kiss her and almost lost his nose in the process, because Pinkie leapt up at the same time, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Oh, Pookie, no other guy could do for me what you do.”
Canaan came into the hall a moment later. “Broadbent, do you think you could... oh... uh, never mind. Catch you later,” he said to the Guardian’s raised finger. “No hurry.”
He hurried off to the kitchen where his mate was pulling a tray of cookies from the oven.
“You’d better start planning the menu for another mating,” he said, swiping a hot cookie from behind her when she turned.
“He asked?”
Canaan shrugged. “I sure as hell hope so. They’re lip locked in the hall and she’s wrapped around him like a python.”
Hands clapping in the air, Grace did a little jig.
Canaan watched her heavy breasts bounce as she danced and he groaned. “You’re killing me here, sweetling.”
Grace laughed and threw her arms around his neck and rubbed herself against him. “Two more weeks, big boy, and then it’s game on.”
“You’re not making it easy,” he groused.
“Nobody said we couldn’t fool around,” she purred into his neck. “I’m feeling fine and I’ve missed you, too.”
“Right now?”
“Don’t see why not? Last batch of cookies are out. Supper’s on and the babies are fed and sleeping. All I have to do is get the table set.”
“Delegate,” Canaan ordered. He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room.
They passed Broadbent and Pinkie in the hall, still and literally wrapped up in each other.
“Can you two set the table?” Grace called as she was swept past the kissing couple.
Pinkie gave her the sign for okay, but her eyes didn’t open and her lips never left Broadbent’s.
“Remember when we were like that,” Grace laughed as they started up the stairs.
Her squeal of delight was Canaan’s answer.
Broadbent heard that squeal and smiled against his lover’s mouth. He felt no envy for the Lord and Lady’s happiness. He understood now the joy they felt in finding that one person you were meant to mate. He felt it too. The heart he once felt lacking, now pounded in his chest as he carried her into the parlor and sat her down on the antique settee. He’d thought to someday make an occasion of the event, choreographing it carefully with perfect flowers and a ring. But Patience had taught him to seize the moment and so he ignored her shocked and frightened look when he knelt before her on bended knee and spoke quickly.
“Patience, little dove, I adore you. I worship you. I thank God every day for the circumstance that brought you into my life. I can no longer picture living my life without you. Please, please, do me the honor of becoming my mate.”
The reaction he got wasn’t one he expected. Patience looked at him with such pain in her eyes that Broadbent had to look away.
“I thought you were happy with the way things were. I thought we had time. Broadbent, you think you know who I am, but you don’t really know me at all and if you did, you wouldn’t want me. I can’t mate with you, Broadbent. I can’t mate with anyone.” She burst into tears and fled from the room.
For the second time on that same seat, Broadbent received a rejection to an earnest and heartfelt proposal. That first rejection, Faith’s, he’d taken with quiet acceptance. There was no true love in it, just a desperate hope that two lost souls could share some semblance of the loving connections he saw taking place around him. This time was different. This time, he felt as if his heart was being torn from his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He closed his eyes against the pain.
He could still feel the softness of her lips. He could still smell the scent of her hair. He could still see the bright laughter in her eyes. He could still hear her voice telling him she loved him. Yes, it was said in fun, but it was also said without thought or hesitation.
“Oh, Pookie, no other guy could do for me what you do. Love ya, Pooks.”
Broadbent knelt, forearms leaning against the settee. The fingers of his hands entwined as if in prayer.
Do for her? What exactly had he done? He’d been so involved with how she made him feel, how he saw, heard, tasted and touched this new world she’d opened up for him. Since he’d met her, he’d been living in a dream, his dream. But what of her? What had he given her besides movies and cat food? He had shared with her his glory, but he hadn’t shared her troubles.
He knew something was wrong. Hadn’t she hinted at it over and over? But he never pressed her to reveal what it was. He knew she’d lied to him and yet he never demanded the truth from her. He knew she was worried and afraid, yet he’d never offered her comfort or reassurance. She’d offered him a myriad of opportunities to do so and he had failed her at every turn.
He loved her, but until this moment had not understood what love was all about. It wasn’t about him. It was about her.
She loved him. He knew it in his heart of hearts and how foolish that sounded from a man who’d denied the possibility of feeling anything from that organ.
She loved him. He saw it in her eyes when she smiled at him and even when she made fun of his idiosyncrasies. He heard it in her murmurs and cries of pleasure when they made love.
Only a few months before, such a rejection would have had him walking away in gentlemanly retreat. He was no longer that man. Patience had changed him. She saw him as the hero of the movie that was her life. It was time he started acting like one. Whatever her problems, fears, or concerns, Broadbent ad Sebastian would stand by her side and fight those battles with her. It was time he told her so.
Dov and Col were standing in the hall, each with an arm extended, finger pointing to the back of the house.
“I love her,” Broadbent shouted as he ran past.
“We know,” they called after him.
“Yippee-ki-yay, Professor.”
“Get along little doggie.”
“Man,” Col said to his brother, “For a minute there, I thought we were going to have to drag him out. Do you think we should watch?”
“Hell yeah, but let’s go get the others. They’re not gonna want to miss this.”
~*~
The mirror on the wall of Good Fortune shimmered with a greenish glow in the darkness.
“Patience Penelope Persephone Pendergast,” Abyar called in a playful sing-song voice. “Where are you?”
He knew she wasn’t there. He only called her three, four, five, or six times a night on the off chance that she might stop in for a visit. He knew exactly where she was and who she was with. That’s what made this whole plan perfect.
From the minute he met her, he’d known their fates were tied together. Madam’s crystal ball had confirmed it. Oh, she’d tried to warn him off, but he knew from the beginning what her plans were. There wasn’t a witch in this world or in that one in whom a demon could place his trust.
“Patience Penelope Persephone Pendergast,” Abyar called again. “Did you really think you could get away?”
Madam had gotten what she deserved, and for a time, he thought Fate had turned on him, too. But no, Fate had only delayed what was inevitable. After fifteen years of finding and losing her, after fifteen years of being disappointed in the witches he thought might replace her, Fate had not only brought them together again, she’d sweetened the pot of revenge.
He’d not only have his Penny Peepers back, he’d make those Guardians pay for ruining his plans. He’d make sure they didn’t interfere again and he’d make Penny Peepers watch as he made them pay. Oh, yes, good things come to those who wait and he’d waited a long time for this.”
“Patience Penelope Persephone Pendergast,” Abyar called a third time. “I’m coming to get you and then we’ll both get what we deserve.”
Chapter 22
He found her at the rail of the deck. Her head was tilted up at the sky, but her eyes were closed. Tears streamed down her face. The man who always had some memorized words of wisdom, could think of none but three.
“I’m sorry, Patience.”
She didn’t turn to him as he hoped she might. Her chin dipped to her chest and her head moved slowly back and forth.
“Don’t, Broadbent, please don’t say you’re sorry. In these last few weeks, you’ve given me the memories for a lifetime and all I’ve done is use you. I knew it was wrong. I knew it couldn’t go anywhere, but I kept telling myself one more day. Even if it can’t be forever, just give me one more day...”
“To love and be loved. I know the feeling, little dove. I know it well.”
She straightened her shoulders. “Then you know where I’m coming from and you’ve got to understand. This can’t go on. I can’t love you.”
“It’s too late for that. You already do,” he said simply.
“No, it’s not too late. I can go back to the shop and you can go on with your life. Pretend this never happened, Pookie.”
“I’ve always been good at pretending. I’ve spent most of my life pretending to be what someone else thought I should be.” Broadbent smiled gently and reached out to touch one of her curls. It rode over his finger, slid away from him and fell back into place. “Until I met a woman who didn’t want me to pretend, who loved me just as I am.” He leaned in close and whispered to the curl. “I have never understood this love business, until you showed me what it was, but there also, is where I made my mistake.
“In my selfishness with my own happiness, I failed to see to yours. I saw only what I wanted to see, a reflection of what I felt. I told myself it was a matter of trust. If you needed me, you would open your thoughts as you opened your heart. In truth, I wanted nothing to interfere with what I felt. I ignored your lies and deceptions because the result suited my needs. You were frightened and in pain and I pretended it wasn’t there, because if you didn’t need the safety of this House, you might not need me.
“How ironic that with the one woman on earth with whom I found no reason to pretend, I continued to do just that.” He pressed her shoulder around until she was facing him before he spoke again. “The time has come for both of us to stop pretending. You must tell me what’s wrong. If I cannot fix it, I can share it.”
Again, he wanted to close his eyes against the pain of his breaking heart, but the pain was no longer for himself. It was for Patience and what was clearly written on her face when she turned it to him. But he didn’t close his eyes. He’d done enough of that.
“What you saw, Pookie, wasn’t a reflection,” she told him and her eyes told him that this was true. “Here in this House with you I thought I could make everything else go away. I thought I could hide from what I am. I should have known that a man like you wouldn’t be satisfied with things as they were. A man like you would want more and I can’t give you that.”
“You needn’t apologize for what you can give or can’t, but I insist you tell me the why of it. And please don’t lie, you’re awful at it and I will no longer allow you to get away with it. This, too, is something that must change. For us both,” he added.
“People don’t change, Broadbent, and in your case, I wouldn’t want you to.” Her smile was wistful. “The problem is me, not you.”
She saw him frown as she repeated the words she’d heard from others, words that cut deep. She hurried on. “The drug addict can fight the evil that’s in them, but it’s always there. An alcoholic is always recovering, never recovered. One fall off the wagon and I could destroy all this.” She waved her hand to indicate their surroundings and the people she was growing to love. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and she turned her head when Broadbent would have brushed it from her cheek.
“I’ve already done that once and I can’t do it again. I told you before I was addicted to evil, Broadbent, but it’s more than that. I can’t be your mate because I’m tied to the devil himself.”
Pinkie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see the result of her words. She’d hurt him enough. But he was right. He deserved the truth and maybe, as the saying went, the truth would set him free.
“That man I spoke of in the kitchen, that older man? I chose to be with him. I chose to love him. I chose to swallow the poison he fed me, knowing it was poison. I would have gone to hell for him.” She closed her eyes as memory washed over her.
Broadbent leaned against the rail and looked down at her. “What you say makes no sense. One does not need to escape from those one chooses to be with, Patience. Once free, one doesn’t hide for fifteen years from the man one loves. You’ve been running. You’ve been hiding. Nardo told me,” he admitted. “He looked you up.”
“My history isn’t something you’ll find in a list of records. There isn’t one for this. The man I spoke of wasn’t a man, Broadbent. He isn’t a man.” Pinkie gave her words time to sink in. “He was a demon, is a demon. Like those things you fought in the alley, only worse, much worse.”
Broadbent closed his eyes, thinking of what Faith had endured at the hands of a demon. “You were young,” he whispered, “You didn’t know.”
Pinkie pulled away from his offered embrace.
“I did know,” she said flatly. “I was just beginning to play with my magic. I didn’t know much about my powers, but I knew what I would be someday. It wasn’t a secret in my house. My mother used her gifts to win at cards. She wasn’t greedy. It was just a little extra money to pay for her fun.
“My father left us when he found out what she was and what I would be. My stepfather loved her no matter what she was. They weren’t going to win any parenting awards, but they loved me and I loved them. My grandmother loved me, too, in spite of the fact that she hated my mother’s gift.” She shook her head in misery. “Or maybe she just hated what my mother did with it. I don’t know. I wasn’t old enough to understand and I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. I left her alone, Broadbent, wondering and waiting until the day she died.
“I caused so much heartache because I chose to be with the demon. I suspected what he was when I heard him in the mirror. I knew what he was when I called him through. I knew what he was offering, knew it was wrong, and wanted it anyway. By the time I saw him for the monster he really was, it didn’t matter. It was too late.”
“You didn’t know. You were too young.” Broadbent repeated. He refused to believe she could have understood the consequences of her actions.
Pinkie wouldn’t let it go. She turned on him and shouted. “No! I knew. He offered me revenge on those I thought had wronged me. I wanted that revenge.”
“Childhood pranks. Wrong, certainly, but I hardly think spilling pudding down someone’s dress would cause any lasting harm. I’ve been the subject of such pranks. I survived. What they did to you was far more harmful.” He knew this, too, from personal experience.
“Oh, Broadbent, you wouldn’t understand. No matter what was done to you, you would remain good, and kind, and honorable.” She stood next to him, facing outward, her hands braced against the rail. “The chocolate pudding was only the beginning. Do you know how the bones of the ankle work?” she asked suddenly, lifting her head and looking up at him. “How they connect with the bones of the leg and the foot? I do. I studied it. It’s helpful when that cheerleader who laughed in gym when you couldn’t touch your toes, slips on the stairs. Did you know you can hear the bones pop?” she asked with a vicious smile. “Such a satisfying sound, particularly when you’re the one who made her fall, when you’re the one who made them pop.
