thought of her. She would always have Ollie. “I was just finishing up my morning visits.”
Nicholas furrowed his brow. “With Olympus?”
“No one else would be appropriate.”
Nicholas shook his head. “Come back inside and change your clothes.”
“You don’t want to be in there with Mama either,” Patience protested, but she started back toward their London home. She preferred being in the country, but Nicholas needed to spend most of his time in London since Papa died. “Surely all your work as Duke Harrington can wait for an afternoon.”
“I thought this was a morning visit.”
“Yes, but I think you need an afternoon.”
They had nearly reached the back door. Mama’s false vibrato wafted through the doorway. For a woman who liked to sing, she wasn’t actually very skilled at it. Nicholas rubbed his face with his hands. “No, what I need is a sister who has an ounce of decorum.”
Patience stopped. What waited inside for her? An oblivious mother and a critical brother. Outside there was sunshine and Ollie.
“Patience . . .”
She stepped across the threshold and into the kitchen of their sprawling home. She was dirty enough to warrant Nicholas using the servants’ entrance. Cook and Rebecca were washing vegetables. They smiled at Patience but quickly dried their hands and scurried to the larder when they noticed Nicholas behind her. Apparently no one wanted to be around when the Duke of Harrington was frustrated with his sister. She sighed and placed her hand on the doorframe, not quite ready to relinquish a pleasant afternoon.
“You are becoming more like Mother every day,” Nicholas muttered after pushing past her. She couldn’t quite catch the last thing he said, but she definitely heard “running from responsibilities.”
What responsibilities? She wished she had some. In fact, there was nothing for her to do here. Outside at least she could feel the sunlight warm her, and Ollie would stand by her no matter what.
Patience sighed. There would be no changing Nicholas. He hadn’t been much fun while Mama was in Paris, but now that she was home life was even more unbearable. Was it Patience’s fault Mama couldn’t handle a life in mourning?
Her hand was still on the doorway. Tiny pinpricks of heat radiated off it, reminding her of the sunshine that awaited if she could just return to the garden. With Nicholas now in front of her, headed no doubt back to his study, Patience jumped out the open doorway and shut Nicholas into the dim house, where he preferred to stay.
“Patience!” Nicholas roared from the other side of the door, but she was already far enough away that the sound was muffled.
Whenever he said her name in that exasperated way, she liked to pretend her brother was reminding himself to be patient with her. She threw her arms out and turned around once, enjoying the sense of freedom. She would take in as much sun as possible today. Warmth was life, and she had seen little of it since Papa had passed away.
Ollie jogged to her side, happy that she had returned so quickly.
The sound of the door being violently forced open caused her to turn around. Nicholas was livid. His face had gone red, and his nostrils flared.
How unbecoming of him.
If she were any other person, she would be scared. Her brother was tall and thick and very used to having his own way.
“Did you just shut the door on me?”
“I did just shut the door. It is hard to say exactly if I shut it on you. I thought you were headed to your study.”
Oh dear, now his eyebrows were raising. He stomped in her direction, but Patience stood her ground. He might be over a foot taller than she, but he was still her brother, and he would never harm her. Question her judgment at practically every turn, yes, but never harm her.
“You will be entering society in two months,” he said. “You aren’t nearly as young as most of the debutantes, and yet you still act as if you were a child. Traipsing about, not caring about the extra workload you put on the servants, with not a care for authority.”
“Your authority?” She tried not to laugh. Nicholas was only three years her senior. At twenty-three, he was one of the youngest noblemen sitting at parliament. She doubted many of his peers took him very seriously.
“Yes, my authority. I’m the Duke of Harrington. All of England accepts my authority.”
She raised one eyebrow.
His reaction was instantaneous. All of his bluster was gone.