In any assessment, Penny would come up short.
Penny was pretty, but Libby was gorgeous. Penny was plump, but Libby was curvaceous. Penny was friendly, but Libby was magnetic. Penny was ordinary, but Libby was extraordinary.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and people were craning their necks, curious as to who would emerge. What sort of person gadded about in a pink carriage? Luke wasn’t the only one who deemed it peculiar.
A footman marched over and opened the door, saying, “Welcome to Roland.”
A blond man leapt out first—with the grace and flair of an acrobat. Luke couldn’t see his face, but he was flamboyantly dressed in flowing silk trousers, a white shirt, with an embroidered vest over top. He was exotic and foreign, as if he was a circus barker or maybe a servant in a sultan’s harem.
His hair was a striking gold color, worn long and curling over his shoulders. He had rings on his fingers and an earring in his ear, which wasn’t that strange to Luke. As a sailor, he’d encountered many men—generally natives—who had piercings, but it wasn’t an adornment often witnessed in rural England.
Luke was incredibly intrigued, and when the man finally spun toward him, Luke was totally bewildered. It seemed to be Libby’s cousin, Simon Falcon, but that wasn’t possible. Why would Falcon be standing in Charles’s driveway?
To his great astonishment, Miss Fishburn climbed out next. He scowled, his mind frantically trying to figure out why she would be there too. As with Mr. Falcon, there was no discernible reason for her to be present.
Then Falcon reached into the carriage and guided Libby out. If an angel from Heaven had suddenly flown down to join them, he couldn’t have been more stunned. He was being pelted by numerous emotions: shock, amazement, aggravation, confusion, joy, alarm.
Why was she at Roland? She was supposed to be in London, performing at the theater and impatiently waiting for him to return from the country.
Was she an invited guest? Was she staying for the whole two weeks? If she was, how would he explain that the party was being held for him because he was contemplating marriage to Penny Pendleton?
He felt as if he was wading in a bog, and there were a thousand huge pits in front of him. He couldn’t walk in any direction without falling into one of them.
Clearly, when Millicent had sent a note, asking if he’d like to review the guest list, he should have paid more attention. He’d simply sent a note back claiming that Penny’s choices were fine with him. It had never occurred to him that Libby might be a Pendleton acquaintance.
This was a disaster!
She was attired like the vixen she was, wearing a vibrant pink gown that was the same shade as her carriage. Her outfit was embellished with matching shawl, slippers, parasol, and fan. Her hair was intricately styled, with pink feathers woven in the strands.
She was glamorous and magnificent, like a goddess eager to tempt mortal men. The other males were shifting in their shoes, anxious to get a better look at her.
Mr. Falcon whipped off his cap and made a sweeping gesture with it as he announced, “Ladies and gentleman, Miss Libby Carstairs, Mystery Girl of the Caribbean!”
There were gasps of surprise and wild applause from the spectators.
“Penny! You scamp,” one girl murmured. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Another added, “How could you keep it a secret? You must have been dying with anticipation.”
Libby gave an imperious toss of her blond curls, her lazy, dynamic gaze roaming over the crowd. It passed over Luke, landing on him like a hard jolt of lightning, but she furnished no sign that she recognized him.
Appearing majestic and grand, she sauntered over to Charles, and he was mesmerized by her. She should have been introduced to him, but he took the lead, seeming overwhelmed as a green boy.
“Miss Carstairs!” he gushed. “How lovely to have you grace our humble home. I am Charles Pendleton, Lord Roland.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Lord Roland.” Her voice was husky, sensual, and it floated out and caressed all of them. “And it is I who am honored to have been invited.”
She executed the merest curtsy to Charles, then she motioned to her companions. “May I present my cousin, Simon Falcon? And this is my devoted advisor, Miss Fishburn.”
Charles’s jaw dropped, and he actually blanched. “Fish? Is it really you?”
“Yes, hello, Charles. I’m delighted to learn that you remember me.”
With Fish blatantly using Charles’s Christian name, everyone was a tad startled. Agitated utterances raced by. Apparently, Libby would deliver a ton of intrigue and drama. Millicent didn’t care for the notion though. She frowned defensively, and she sidled a little closer to Charles—as if he was hers and she wasn’t sharing.
Libby’s regal focus slid to Fish. “You know Lord Roland, Fish? You didn’t tell me. Shame on you.”
“I did tell you. Have you forgotten? The Earl and I are old friends.”
Fish imbued the word old with such innuendo that it induced numerous snickers, but they were hastily tamped down.
Charles’s cheeks reddened, but he didn’t elaborate on his connection to Fish. He turned to Millicent and introduced her. “This is my sister-in-law and cousin, Miss Millicent Pendleton. She runs my home and manages my family for me.”
Libby nodded distractedly, as if Millicent was beneath her notice. “Hello, Miss Pendleton.”
“Miss Carstairs.” Millicent nodded too, briskly, indicating that there would be no love lost between them.
Charles continued. “This is my daughter, Lady Penelope. We call her Penny. It’s her party. I’m just the father who’s paying for it.”
“I’m sure she’s lucky to have you.” Libby studied Penny, her expression cool and unreadable.
“Thank you for coming, Miss Carstairs!” Penny said. “After I was notified that my cousin had asked you, I was quite giddy with excitement.”
“I’m thrilled to hear it,” Libby replied. “We were included at the last minute.
