“After I discovered no bail could be posted,” he said, “I raced to the country and enlisted Lord Barrett to help me free them.”
“Tell me he pitched in or I’ll be so aggravated.”
“Yes, he helped me, and he was quite majestic about it too. Libby and Fish are at our London house and recuperating from their ordeal. Libby wasn’t grateful for his assistance though. I guess, when she told him about her being Henrietta, he called her a liar.”
“The dolt!” she fumed.
“She’s vexed with him, so I’m not sure if they’re still having an affair or not. If they’ve split apart, it would mean your father could start pushing you about becoming engaged to him.”
“He never could. Even if she spurns Luke for all eternity, I don’t want him.”
“Are you certain?”
“I have other ideas about my future.”
“What are they?”
The question hung in the air between them, and as she studied his handsome face, she wondered if she hadn’t gone mad. She’d had years to ponder the sort of man she yearned to wed, yet the crop of available aristocratic boys was a shallow pool. She craved an amazing husband, and she’d never met anyone more amazing than Simon Falcon.
Then again, she’d had scant experience with amour. Luke had been the sole candidate her father had presented, so she hadn’t been able to make many comparisons. It was such an important decision, which was why a girl’s father selected her husband, but she’d let him handle it, and he’d chosen distracted, aloof, much older Lucas Watson.
Luke had been all wrong for her, so her father couldn’t be counted on to settle on a candidate she’d agree to have. Dare she forge ahead on her own?
Her father’s wild proclivities were flowing in her veins. Was this how he’d felt about his wife, Amanda, when he’d eloped with her? Had he felt—if he couldn’t have Amanda—his life might not have been worth living?
His marriage to her had been a disaster, but he’d survived, and he’d relentlessly repented his error. If Penny staggered forward into reckless conduct, she’d only be doing what her father had done, so he could hardly condemn her for it. And if it collapsed later on, he’d welcome her back; she was convinced of it.
But she refused to think it would end in catastrophe. She would bluster into it, assuming it would be perfect.
“I have to tell you something,” he said, and suddenly, he looked much too serious. “Let’s sit up, shall we? When I explain this to you, I should be standing on my feet.”
He slid off the bed, and he drew her up to rest against the pillow, then he went to the window and stared outside. It was a cloudy night, but the moon was up, so it wasn’t completely dark.
He appeared as if he was about to confide a terrible secret. Or perhaps he was leaving her. If she’d been a trembling ninny, her heart might have been pounding, but she wasn’t concerned about any issue he might raise. She was in control of the entire situation.
“Well?” she said when he couldn’t begin. “You’re obviously distressed. What’s bothering you?”
He whipped around and admitted, “I seduced you with wicked motives.”
“I know that. I’m an heiress, and I’ve ceaselessly been cautioned about scoundrels like you. I hadn’t imagined for a single minute that you had pure motives.”
“I was planning to persuade you to elope to Scotland with me. I would have slyly suggested you bring some money to pay for our trip, then—when you weren’t watching—I would have stolen it and vanished.”
She smirked, not surprised that he’d planned it, but surprised he’d confessed it. “Would you have left me enough to get home to Roland?”
He bristled with offense. “Of course I would have. I’m not an animal.”
She chuckled, finding him to be absurd and marvelous. “So now what? You said you were thinking of behaving badly. What are you thinking instead?”
“I’m thinking we have to part. I intend to climb out the window, jump on my horse, and ride to London.”
“I’ll never see you again?”
“I have to save you from yourself. I’ve toyed with your emotions, but I’m good at toying with a woman’s emotions. It’s another trick my father taught me, but with you, I’m sorry I enticed you. I like you so much, and I shouldn’t have been hideous to you.”
“Have you developed a moral conscience?”
“I guess I have.”
“Am I supposed to simply bid you farewell, then it will be over between us?”
“Yes.”
She pretended to mull the notion, then she frowned. “There’s a problem with your decision, and it’s this: You can’t treat me like a child. It’s what drives me insane in my dealings with my father. I’m an adult. Not a baby. I am fully capable of making up my own mind. I don’t need you to make it up for me.”
“I realize that, but you haven’t considered the ramifications of shackling yourself to me. I’m a petty criminal! I have no funds of my own, and my only skills are those best performed under a circus tent. I rely on Libby to support me.” He threw up his hands. “That’s how useless I am! I have to be supported by a woman! How could I provide for you?”
“You’re forgetting one important detail.”
“What is it?”
“You may be poor, but I am very, very rich.”
“If you run off with me, your father will never offer us your dowry. You’re deranged if you presume he will.”
“He’ll give us some of it. He would never allow me to be imperiled because of my relationship with you.”
“What if you’re wrong? What then?”
“Then . . . ah . . . I figure we’ll move in with Libby, and she’ll have to support you and me. Fish will have to teach me how to sew, so I can earn my keep by stitching Libby’s fantastic apparel.”
“You’re
