He negotiated the comer to Upper Brook Street, then looked down on her bent head with puzzled concern. “Do you feel that everything has a price? Beware, my dear. There are some things which cannot be bought for any amount.”
Penelope suspected that his regard was one such thing, and of a sudden she desperately wished she might have his admiration.
The carriage was brought to a halt precisely in front of Letty’s house. He came around the carriage to assist Penelope, holding out his hands to her.
She stared at those hands a moment, then said in a very subdued voice, not daring to look into his dark eyes. “I am the veriest sort of fool, my lord. It is a lowering reflection to realize that you have given of your valuable time to come to my aid. How silly it makes me feel.”
“What’s this? A contrite spirit? Never say you admit you have been foolish beyond permission. Poor Penny. I vow you shall be meek enough to satisfy Mrs. Drummond-Burrell.”
“You may keep your spurious sympathy, my lord,” she said, utterly vexed with the man, her usually composed self distinctly frayed.
He lifted her down, his hands staying at her waist a few seconds longer than absolutely necessary. “Well, it is good to see your color restored and your temper back to normal.”
Penelope backed away from him as it dawned upon her that much of this raillery had likely been deliberate. Indeed, she wondered if the scoundrel had meant a word of what he’d said.
“Oh!” she said, piqued beyond belief. Sensibly refusing to dwell on what had happened, Penelope walked into the house, followed by Lord Harford. Once inside, she calmly turned to face him. “I thank you for your timely assistance, Cousin. I trust that I shall not require help again while in London.”
“Nor I,” he murmured, bowing properly over her hand before leaving the house. He had sounded quite dubious.
Penelope was about to march up the stairs when Letty bustled down the hall from her little study, her features fixed in a frown.
“I was about to mix up a potion for Miss Nilsson. Is something amiss?” After the events of the past few hours, Penelope did not welcome the thought of additional dilemmas. She intended to mix up that restorative for Miss Nilsson, then curl up in bed for a time of reflection.
“It is the most vexing thing. Your cat seems to have disappeared. One moment she was here, the next she was gone.”
Since Muffin was accustomed to free rein of the meadows at Fountains, Penelope could well understand her longing to be rid of the house.
“Don’t fidget yourself, Letty. After a quick check here, I shall take myself off for the nearest spot of green, and there she will be. Which way would that be?” Although she had been in London for a short while, Penelope’s sense of direction had not asserted itself. She thought that Hyde Park and Green Park were not very distant, but which way, she couldn’t have said.
Letty walked to the door with Penelope, pointing out where Green Park and Hyde Park were to be found, then apologizing again for the cat’s disappearance.
“For you may know that Mr. Oglethorpe was here and I quite forgot that the cat had come into the drawing room as well. When that man left, I fear the cat walked out with him.”
“Be careful, Letty,” Penelope said with boldness, moved to speak what was in her heart. “I have heard it said that every man has a limit to his patience. I fancy that Mr. Oglethorpe will demand an answer from you before long. Be certain the one you give is the one you mean with all your heart.” Penelope hoped that her words of caution would not upset Letty. She had come to like both Mr. Oglethorpe and her peculiar cousin, and thought they suited each other very well. It would be a pity if false pride stood in the way of their happiness.
“You are nothing if not direct.”
Another look at Letty ‘s annoyed face, and Penelope marched up the stairs to check under her bed where the cat liked to hide. Not finding her pet, she came down again and was soon off to the park, reluctant feet marching along the walk in search of her wayward cat.
What was the matter with her? What she considered a sensible outlook seemed taken by others as unusual and unfeeling. She had no desire to wound Letty. Poor dear, torn as she was by her loyalties and feelings, it was a wonder she even noticed the absence of one marmalade cat.
“Muffin,” Penelope called in a soft voice. “Come, kitty, kitty.”
No ball of orange striped fluff came running to greet her. “She is undoubtedly chasing after a mouse, or possibly up a tree after a bird,” she muttered to a stray dog who had run up to investigate. “Shoo,” she admonished the dog. Muffin would scarcely return if a dog were in view.
She strolled along deeper into Hyde Park, after finding it the closest, peering beneath bushes, behind trees, and around any clump of wildflowers she happened upon. Fortunately,
