“Perhaps you have ceased to worry that your Aunt Winthrop is determined to wed you to your cousin?”
“Surely you do not believe she would use force?”
“Do you not?”
She thought a minute and reluctantly nodded her head. “I expect you have the right of that, sir. I had my head full of other matters, I fear.”
He leaned back against the sofa, crossing his arms and studying the face turned toward his with intent eyes. She gave away a certain amount in those eyes, and he wished to know all he might. “What matters?”
Here she was on safe ground. “Wedding presents. I decided I would give Miss Nilsson and Henri a draft so they might buy some furnishings for their ‘superior inn.’ For Letty and Andrew I found some rather elegant Argand lamps of the latest style. Do you think,” she inquired with some hesitation, “that your sister and David will like a set of crystal with the family crest on it?”
“Admirable, I am sure,” he said with exquisite politeness.
His voice nearly froze her.
“What else?”
She dropped her gaze to the reticule in her lap, fiddling with the cords with uneasy fingers. “Nothing.”
“In other words, you do not wish me to know what you were about. When we are married, my love, I shall demand a better accounting of your days.”
“Since I doubt that will occur, I shan’t worry overmuch about the matter,” she said with a light flippancy that masked the turmoil in her heart. She found her face taken firmly by his hand, and turned to him once more.
“I have decided that it is in our best interests to marry.
The announcement of the betrothal will go to the papers, once I convince your solicitor and Lord Lanscomb to agree to our marriage.”
Penelope twisted her face from his grasp, jumping to her feet. With the knowledge that her wishes might actually gain her what she thought she wanted, she smiled. “We shall see, my lord.” At the look in his eyes as he rose and advanced upon her, she retreated to the entry hall, handing him his hat as she passed the table.
“I do not trust that look in the least,” he growled at her. “Be ready to dine in an hour. We are to have dinner with my mother, Charis and David, and the duke and duchess.”
Penelope stood stock-still by the open door, staring up at him with a fluttering heart. She could do nothing but agree for the moment. How he must detest the situation she had placed him into. “I shall be prompt, sir.”
His annoyance spilled forth in a hiss. Then he quickly reached for her to place a brief but fierce kiss on her mouth.
He marched down the steps, then jumped up into the waiting curricle—that she ought to have noticed when she returned to the house—and drove off in a whirl of dust. Penelope closed the door, then ran up the stairs to her room.
Since Miss Nilsson had not yet returned, Penelope had no one to assist her. She summoned one of the maids to help her dress, then arranged her own hair. In slightly less than an hour she prepared to descend, hearing the rattle of a coach on the street just outside come to a halt. Smoothing the delicate silk floral print of her gown, she floated down the stairs as he entered the house. Warmly approving eyes did much to bolster her confidence.
Jonathan inhaled the scent of tea roses as she neared him and smiled at his future wife. “Delicious."
She fingered one of the knots of ribbon that punctuated the lace edging at the neck of her gown. “Good evening. How fortunate that I did not have a prior engagement tonight. You were exceedingly uncivil in the announcement of our evening, sir.”
“I apologize. It has been a rather harrowing day, my love.” He nodded to Mrs. Flint, assuring her that he would bring Penelope home late but safe, then they left the house.
“You are treating me as though I am a child,” Penelope complained, once seated in the comfortable town coach.
“Not at all,” he denied complacently. “I am concerned about you. Perhaps you ought to move in with my mother for the time being.”
She gave him a wondering look that was tinged with disbelief. In her experience the people who fussed were paid to do so. She now mistrusted her instincts. “Miss Nilsson and Henri should return before long. She will not desert me.” Yet.
Lady Harford clearly felt that Penelope ought not be alone in the house in Upper Brook Street following Letty’s departure as well, and made her feelings known.
“You are all that is kind, dear lady, but Miss Nilsson promised she would stay for a time,” Penelope said in a rather small voice, sensing a generosity of spirit that seemed to come quite often from that lady. “I shall consider what you say. Perhaps I shall take myself off to Fountains before long, if all goes well,” she added, thinking of the settlement she had proposed to her solicitor. She turned to answer a question from the duchess, thus missed the annoyed look sent from Lady Harford to her negligent son.
* * * *
The following day Penelope decided she wished to discuss a few things with Lord Harford, and not having anyone about to send, as per usual in this household, she again set off, this time alone. Miss Nilsson and Henri were off on another foray, this time to see an estate agent about a suitable building in Brighton.
Harford’s elegant house no longer had the ability to intimidate her. Penelope walked past Darling, giving him her nicest smile. “I shall wait for his lordship in the library,” she replied when informed that Lord Harford had gone out but was expected back directly. The
