She stepped outside, but she immediately pulled up short. Luke was leaned on the balustrade and staring out at the park. She hadn’t seen him all day and didn’t mind that she hadn’t. In her current mood, she couldn’t bear to speak with him.
He hadn’t noticed her, and she thought about sneaking away, but the wind banged the door shut behind her, and he glanced around. On viewing her, his expression was completely blank, and his obvious lack of regard had her temper soaring.
He was at Roland to decide if he would like to wed her. Was he so sure of his position that he imagined he didn’t have to expend any effort to win her?
As Simon had bluntly clarified, he was after her money. He didn’t care about her as a person and would never love her. In fact, he was in love with someone else—a problem that would have crushed Penny if she didn’t like Miss Carstairs quite so much. Penny comprehended why a man would be smitten by Miss Carstairs, but honestly!
Luke was an idiot if he presumed Penny would marry him when he was obsessed with another woman.
“Penny! Hello,” he said, and he started toward her.
It was too late to dash down the stairs and run off, so she said, “Hello to you too.”
“Are you taking a walk? The grass is soaked, so you’ll ruin your shoes.”
“I’m off to the stables, so I can stick to the gravel paths. I’ll be fine.”
“May I join you?”
She gnashed her teeth, not convinced she could be civil, but she forced a smile. “I’d enjoy it if you would.”
He extended his arm, and she grabbed hold. They went down into the garden, even as she irritably recollected that it was the first time she’d touched him since the party had begun. He treated her like a pesky little sister, while Simon was so besotted he brashly crept into her bedchamber so he could shower her with torrid kisses.
Penny cherished him for it, and on pondering his heightened affection, she grew even more aggravated by Luke’s tepid display.
“Since I arrived,” he said, “we’ve hardly had an opportunity to chat.”
“I invited too many guests. We’d have been better off with a small family gathering.”
“I’m not much of a one for large crowds. I spent too many years on a ship at sea. I’m afraid it’s made me unsocial.”
You’re right about that! she silently fumed.
She peered up at the sky and inquired, “What is your prediction as to what the weather will be like tomorrow? I’d like to offer carriage rides for people who would like to tour the neighborhood.”
“My groom swears it will be sunny and dry.”
“Wonderful.”
Their conversation dwindled after that, and she couldn’t conceive of a topic to keep it going, but why was it up to her to stir the dialogue between them?
It was another sin to lay at his feet. Why must she do all the work?
Again, she couldn’t help but compare him to Simon. When she and Simon were together, they didn’t stop talking for a single second. He understood her as no one ever had, and she felt as if they’d been acquainted forever.
There were so many comments churning inside her. She was like a pot on a stove and the lid about to blow off. What if she simply blurted out her reservations? What if she simply told him exactly what she was thinking?
He’d likely drop dead of shock, and she’d have murdered him with her flippant attitude. Then again, if he dropped dead, she’d be shed of him once and for all.
She snorted with a grim amusement, and he asked, “What has you laughing?”
“Nothing important. I was merely reflecting on a horrid thought.”
“I hope it wasn’t about me.”
“No, no, it wasn’t about you. Why would you suppose that?”
“Your father waylaid me”—she could barely tamp down a wince—“and he mentioned that I’d vexed you. I hadn’t realized it, so I probably ought to apologize.”
She wasn’t aware that her father had accosted him, and she could picture them, snickering about her over a brandy. They’d have clucked their tongues about how young she was, how immature she was, how she needed the firm hand of an older husband. They’d have congratulated themselves on how Luke was the perfect spouse for her and how they’d been smart enough to recognize it.
The entire scenario was galling and infuriating.
If she hadn’t been so irked, she’d have minded her manners, but she suspected—if she acted in the proper way, in the expected way—she’d always regret it.
“Can you answer a question for me?” she asked.
“I will if I can.”
“Are you in love with Libby Carstairs? If you are, why would you consider marrying me? Why would you put me through that sort of misery?”
The query was so inappropriate and so impertinent that she was surprised she didn’t swoon with astonishment. What had come over her?
He stepped away from her so quickly he might have suddenly learned she had the plague. A muscle ticked in his cheek as he debated his possible replies. The one he picked was precisely what she should have anticipated.
“We shouldn’t discuss a topic like that.”
“Of course that would be your opinion!”
She whipped away and started for the house. He called to her retreating back, “Penny, wait!”
She halted and glared over her shoulder. “I asked a valid question that shouldn’t have been that difficult for you to address, but I notice you conveniently failed to offer a response—or a defense.”
“I’m sorry you’re angry, but could we not bicker? It will upset your father.”
“Ooh, my poor, poor father,” she caustically said. “Heaven forbid that we displease him.”
Luke shrugged. “He’s always been my friend.”
“Well, then, I’m sure matters between us will work out swimmingly.”
“He informs me that you and Mr. Falcon have been gossiping about me, and I’m worried Falcon may have filled your head with nonsense. I wish you’d calm down.”
“Believe me, Lord Barrett, I am very, very calm, and I suggest you carefully ponder this dilemma
