Harford House was a rather nice place, she decided as the butler ushered them up the stairs into the drawing room. There was a number of attractive paintings of Lord Harford’s ancestors gracing the walls, the carpets looked in excellent repair, and the style of the curtains was positively enchanting. Jonathan was not the only Harford to exhibit excellent preferences, it seemed.
In the drawing room they found a slender woman, brown hair barely tinged with silver, with only a few wrinkles to mar her attractive face.
Glancing about her, Penelope smiled at the lady who had risen to greet them, and impulsively said, “What an utterly charming room, ma’ am. I am persuaded that I know whereof your son acquired his excellent taste.” Wine-colored draperies framed the windows in attractive loops, while pale cream silk decorated the walls, reflecting the upholstery of the chairs. Touches of wine and deep green accented the various pieces about the room, and the effect was of richness and elegance.
Lady Harford’s eyes widened at this artless remark; then her reserve melted at the sight of the orphaned girl who was, after all, a sort of niece, a very lovely one. “Welcome, my dear. I am pleased you appreciate what I have attempted to do in this room. It was once such a gloomy place—when I first was married, you see.”
“Your husband was most fortunate, in that case, to find such a felicitous wife.”
“Au contraire, my dear. I adored Arthur and would have done everything I could to please him.”
Penelope could not prevent her gaze from jumping to meet that knowing pair of eyes across the room from her. Lord Harford leaned against the exquisite marble mantelpiece with the hint of an insouciant grin hovering about his mouth. What an utterly odious man. What a pity he had such perfect taste in all things, from what she had observed to this point, for she would have dearly liked to dispense with his tutorage.
Lady Harford ignored her beloved son, motioning to Penelope to join her on a cream-and-wine-striped sofa. They chatted for some time about the kind of things one does when first meeting, especially with relatives. Once they had sorted out the precise degree of relationship, taken note of the various peculiar aunts, not to mention the sad reduction in esteem of the present holder of the Everton title—evidently Ernest was universally deemed to be a toad—Lady Harford prepared to get to the true intent of the call.
“Now, my dear, my son tells me that you arrived at Miss Winthrop’s home to make your come-out. It will never do for an unmarried young woman to sponsor you, never mind that she is an eccentric. So much more the reason she ought not attempt such a thing.”
“I believe that thought never entered her mind,” Penelope replied honestly. “I fear I plumped myself on her doorstep before she knew what I was about. She forgot to read her mail, you see.”
Apparently Lady Harford was sufficiently acquainted with her other niece to totally understand the problem. She nodded eagerly, then continued. “I insist you must join my daughter Charis for her ball, which is to be in two weeks. That will give you enough time to have Jonathan enter your name for the next court presentation. I shall sponsor you, but he will be such a lamb as to get the required cards for you. Charis is due to attend, and so you shall have ample company.” She turned to study her son, who still leaned against the mantelpiece. “Be so good as to acquire those cards for Lady Penelope, dear.”
“It is already seen to, dear mother. I knew a woman of your tender sensibilities would immediately take Lady Penelope under her wing, so I stopped off at the Lord Chamberlain’s office to obtain the cards for Charis and Penny. Both girls shall attend and do you credit, ma’am. I shall have the ordering of Penny’s gown myself.”
“I had no idea you obtained cards for Lady Penelope as well. What an efficient son you are.” If she noticed the pet name for his cousin, she gave no sign. As to the indication Lord Harford intended to supervise the dressing of his cousin, she apparently was so accustomed to his overseeing her daughters that she made no demur on that score either.
Penelope reluctantly admired the competency of the gentleman she had selected to guide her. Clearly he had decided to expend every effort to see her quickly wedded, for the court presentation and subsequent ball were musts before settling on the man she would marry. She intended to wed someone acceptable to Society, and to do that, she must prove she merited the same regard.
“What shall she wear?” Lady Harford inquired of her son, tapping her fan against her cheek.
Penelope felt most peculiar as they both studied her. What strange people, so taken up with clothes and customs. Of course, she well knew it was part and parcel of London life. But it was the first time she had experienced such in her narrow sphere, and it was quite disconcerting.
“White and silver, I believe,” Lord Harford drawled. “With her pretty blond hair, which must be cut—do take off your hat, Penny—and blue eyes, she will be stunning. Blond lace for the lappets, and three white feathers, with silver beads, accenting her gown, I fancy. Her ensemble ought to catch the eye of the ton who are present. She insists she wants to marry quickly.” This last comment was delivered with a distinctly wry note in his voice that neither Lady could fail to note.
Penelope had obediently removed her hat, giving Lady Harford a look of appeal as she did.
“Naughty boy, you upset your protégé.” Lady Harford turned her reproving gaze from her son to again study her niece. “She is a lovely girl, and seems most proper. You ought to have little trouble
