“You have a unique perspective that I don’t possess,” Penny said, “so I thought you might be able to give me advice I can’t get otherwise.”
“About what? About Lord Barrett?”
“Yes. My father and my aunt are pursuing a match between us, and the Watsons have been our neighbors forever. When Father told me Lord Barrett was interested in me, I never wondered whether we should marry or not. I simply assumed Father was correct.”
Libby felt as if she was tiptoeing across a bog, and if she took a wrong step, she’d fall into the muck and be swallowed whole. She had no business discussing Lucas Watson with Penny Pendleton.
“I’m sure your father knows what’s best for you,” Libby tepidly said.
“He doesn’t understand the kind of person I am. What if Lord Barrett turns out to be a horrendous choice? What then?”
“I see what you mean.”
“I’m vexed, Libby, and I don’t have anyone to confer with about it. I can hardly mention it to Lord Barrett.”
“No, that wouldn’t do at all.”
“My aunt would just say Father is always right and I should listen to him.”
“What is it you’re actually asking me?” Libby inquired.
“What sort of husband would you imagine he’d be?”
“I couldn’t make a prediction. No bride can ever be certain. Women roll the dice when they shackle themselves. It’s the reason I’ve never considered it.”
Penny stopped and pulled Libby around to face her. She looked serious and concerned. “If you could marry him, would you?”
Libby laughed breezily. “Me? Marry Lord Barrett? Well, yes, if he proposed, I’d probably jump at the chance. Who wouldn’t want to wed a rich earl?”
“Forget about his wealth and title. Why would he be a good husband? Men like him have affairs and mistresses. They sire bastard children and have second families. What if I proceeded only to discover that he loved another woman?”
Libby was frightfully glad she’d spent so many years on the stage. She was adept at hiding her emotions. “I really can’t answer you, and I hate that you’re worrying. Are there any other acquaintances here who know him better than I do? Perhaps there are others who could supply the information you seek.”
“Yes, there are others, but I couldn’t ask them. Just tell me your opinion about him in general. You’re constantly surrounded by handsome men, so you’re an excellent judge of character. Would you wed him if you could?”
Penny was studying Libby intensely, and her severe expression was unnerving. What, precisely, was Penny trying to learn?
“How about this?” Libby said. “I would never wed him. I’m not a romantic, so I can’t envision an ending with someone like him. I’d have to believe in fairytales and persuade myself that I could become Cinderella.”
“Have you heard any rumors about him? Might he have a . . . a . . . mistress to whom he’s inordinately attached?”
Libby blanched with dismay. “I’m sorry, but you and I shouldn’t gossip about such a scandalous topic.”
Penny took a deep breath, then she eased away from Libby. They started strolling back toward the party. Whatever the purpose of Penny’s odd interrogation, it appeared to have concluded, and Libby couldn’t figure out if she’d responded correctly or not.
As they approached the tents, Penny said, “May we walk again in the future?”
“Of course.”
“And if I think of other issues, about being an adult and about matrimony, may I raise them?” Libby must have looked as if she’d refuse, for Penny hurriedly added, “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I’m anxious to receive guidance only you can furnish.”
“I’m delighted you assume I can guide you, but I don’t feel I’ve offered a single remark that was helpful.”
“You’re been incredibly helpful,” Penny said.
Several of her friends rushed up to greet her, and Libby shifted away, eager to let her be swept off. She had no idea why Penny would quiz her about Luke. Had they been seen together? Were stories swirling? If so, how could she tamp them down?
She went to a nearby table and had a footman pour her a glass of punch. She stepped to the side and was drinking it when she sensed she was being watched. The person’s focus was so penetrating it was like a dagger in the back.
She glanced around and there, skulking behind the bushes, was Luke. He was trying to be inconspicuous, but there was no way to conceal his heightened regard.
After her peculiar discussion with Lady Penny, she couldn’t have him hovering and staring. What if he came over to her? What if he insisted they chat?
At the moment, she simply couldn’t oblige him. She sidled away and headed for the house, keen to reach her bedchamber where she could claim she needed to change her clothes. She might be able to waste hours and not be found.
She kept on at a brisk pace, and she didn’t peek over her shoulder to check if Luke had followed her. In broad daylight, he wouldn’t dare.
Would he?
Charles was loafing by the window in his bedroom suite, peering down at the garden where the afternoon festivities were just beginning. Lawn games had commenced, but he hadn’t yet mustered the energy to put in an appearance.
He’d spent the night with Fish, a development that was shocking and thrilling. It had been an eternity since he’d enjoyed such a wicked assignation. Not since he’d shackled himself to Florence. He’d sworn to her—and to himself—that he’d give up his vices and doxies. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have married him.
He’d lived modestly and discreetly in the country, being determined to never cross paths with a female he might find tantalizing. But now, Fish was in residence, and her presence had stirred every depraved impulse he’d ever possessed.
He’d sneaked away from her at dawn, but he’d only departed after wringing a promise from her that they’d have a private breakfast
