“In addition I wish to reveal the coming marriage of Lady Penelope Winthrop to my dearest son, Jonathan.”
The gasp that followed this announcement was all that she might have desired. That the dashing, elusive bachelor had succumbed to the lure of the intriguing heiress would be food for speculation for days to come.
“I also wish to announce the betrothal of my niece Miss Lettice Winthrop to Mr. Andrew Oglethorpe.” She beamed a warm smile to include Letty in the near-family, thus eliciting a great deal of conjecture. It was known that Miss Winthrop had spurned all the hopeful suitors over the years, preferring her eccentric solitude to marriage. That the fantastically wealthy Mr. Oglethorpe had chosen her as his bride and that she actually agreed offered another feast for the gossips.
Once a toast was drunk to the young couples. Lady Harford made her way through the throng of socialites, accepting the envious congratulations from all in her path. For although there were petty snide thoughts by a few, most genuinely liked the pretty, gay Lady Harford and were pleased for her good fortune.
Penelope chanced to find herself brushing past the Countess Lieven, who gave her a lazy look from beneath her long dark lashes. “You have kept me most amused, chérie." She glanced at Jonathan, then back to Penelope. “I wish you well, my dear."
Aunt Winthrop pushed her way through the crowd until she confronted Penelope, noting Jonathan’s protective position with displeasure. Ernest and Miss Dunston had followed, but both looked perplexed, as though they had no idea what prompted Lady Winthrop’s actions.
“Well! You cannot have sought the consent of your guardian, miss. I shall make known your foolish behavior to him, and he will make short work of this nonsense, you may be certain.” Her eyes narrowed with malicious pleasure.
Penny’s gaze flickered toward the Countess Lieven, who still stood close by. There was a faint wink of one of those impressive eyes before she nodded ever so slightly.
“We are all in the clouds, Aunt. I would that you not spoil it for us this evening. Anything new that you have to say may be presented to my solicitor,” Penny said in an amazingly calm voice. Perhaps coping with love potions and arrests and subterfuge in the kitchen allowed her to rise above this detestable woman? Turning to Jonathan, Penny said, “I believe we are to join the others in a dance.”
The delicate strains of a waltz floated over the room, and Penny drifted into Jonathan’s arms, as Letty fumbled her way along with Andrew. His face looked strained, possibly from the tread on his toes of Letty’s plump feet. Yet he seemed happy for all that.
Charis and David drew smiles from everyone, with their charming performance of the dance. The six whirled around the floor in gentle rhythm, swaying and dipping in a rather nice manner. At a motion from Jonathan, others slowly began to join them, the first being the Countess Lieven and her escort. Since she was the one who had introduced waltzing to Almack’s, one might expect she would be a most accomplished waltzer, which she was.
Once the dance concluded, Penny gave the slender Russian an envious glance before confiding to Jonathan, “I do believe she is the very best of us all. I expect she had a good deal of practice while at court in Berlin before coming here. I heard she was shockingly young when they married her to the count. I believe I had rather wait a bit, politics notwithstanding.”
“I understand she was placed in the hands of the Empress Maria at a tender age. I daresay she might sympathize with you on the subject of forced marriages.” His hand slid around Penny’s waist to guide her to one side of the room, and she felt the heat from it radiating out as though the sun had chanced to beam upon her.
As the evening advanced, Penny threaded her way through the gathering, accepting the felicitations with composure. What, she wondered, would they all say when the betrothal was dissolved? Chuckle with glee, undoubtedly. Her vision flew to the three witches of Endor, their caldron transformed into a Sheraton tea table with Society matrons substituting admirably in their place.
Lord Stephen presented himself before her, looking at her with chastising eyes. “Fair one, you leave me utterly desolate. You might have warned me.”
“Anyone who looks less forsaken I cannot imagine,” she replied with amusement.
“One dance? A cotillion?”
Still amused at his preposterous display of love lost, she agreed, first catching sight of Jonathan doing the proper with Miss Dunston.
During the movement of the dance, Lord Stephen found opportunities to speak. “You intend to become the perfect English wife?”
“But, of course,” Penny replied with a smile. “What do you believe the requisites to be?”
“Oh, a woman easy to live with, one who can make her own little world and be content in it.” The dance separated them for a few minutes. When he returned to her side, he continued, “She must be assured and self-reliant, however. And a dash of wit might help. I do not want a wife forever banging on my sleeve, if you must know. It would suit me well to live independent, yet joined.”
Penny was grateful when the dance separated them again, for she was deep in thought. The woman he described as the perfect English wife was precisely the life she sought, or had when she came to London. She wondered what Jonathan’s concept of a wife would be.
While Lord Stephen escorted her to Lady Harford, Penny took the opportunity to ask him, “Do you approve of a wife remaining in the country
