Penny returned his hand squeeze. ‘You are far more convincing than any man should be. But I am very good at saying no, my lord.’
‘Just don’t say no to yourself.’
Penny pulled her hand free, stepped back, and ducked in a terrible curtsy. ‘Goodnight, my lord.’ She spun and walked quickly to the door.
Liam’s heart thumped hard in his chest. ‘Goodnight, my Penny.’ But she was already gone, her quiet footsteps barely marking her swift progress down the hall.
Liam had seen the ravages of addiction destroy both his father and his brothers. Reynard battled numerous habits including wine, women, and gambling. But it was his love of power that led to his ultimate demise. Theodore used addiction to numb his pain. And their father’s weakness was cruelty. He fed on a daily diet of brutality, just as dependent on other people’s suffering as a glutton was on sweet buns. Liam knew such weakness infused his blood, but never had he wrestled with the helpless need plaguing his kin. Until he tasted Penny. He would spend the rest of his days chasing her flavour. Craving her scream of passion. Drowning in her wet, soft heat.
He heard opium addicts could become addicted after one sip of laudanum. Opium-laced gin created a hunger impossible to sate. Liam had never understood how that was possible. Until now.
One taste of Penny.
And I’m addicted for the rest of my days.
If there was a cure, Liam wasn’t sure he wanted to find it.
Penny was precariously balanced on a chair, helping to hang swathes of cream and peach silk onto the walls of the front sitting room when Coggins slithered in, making a beeline for her. She was helping to convert the receiving room into a ladies’ waiting area. The heavy furniture had been replacedwith delicate chairs. Full-length mirrors hung on the interior walls providing women ample reflective surfaces and making the space appear much larger. Vanity desks were placed strategically throughout and a screened area against a corner was erected to provide privacy for women who might need to make repairs to their dresses. The transformation of Liam’s serious, somewhat masculine sitting room into an ethereal haven for ladies needing a respite from the ball was astonishing. With the masque nearly upon them, the staff raced hither and thither on this final day of preparation to ensure all was ready on the morrow. Liam’s wild gamble of hiring outside service so his staff could have the night off had paid in large dividends. Never in her years of service had Penny seen a group of servants pull together and work so furiously to please their lord.
‘Miss Smith. Your presence is required.’ Coggins looked like he had just sucked a lemon. Not a good sign.
‘Is anything amiss, sir?’
Coggins’ only reply was a curl of his lip, like a dog snarling before snapping sharp teeth. ‘Follow me.’
Penny handed her silk burden off to Molly, who was given a reprieve from laundry duties to help with decorations. Jumping carefully off the chair – grateful that her ankle was healing after judiciously applied ice the night before – Penny made haste to catch Coggins, who strode out of the room, down the hall, and into Liam’s study.
Dear lord. What has Liam done now? Interrupting my work and having Coggins escort me to his study? Does he wish me to be ousted from his staff?
Preparing herself to face off against her employer, Penny froze in shock upon entering the study.
Liam was not present.
Lady Millicent Drake and her dear friend Miss Ivy Cavendale sat together on the leather settee. A petite young woman Pennyhadn’t met before but knew by reputation sat next to them. The infamous Hannah Simmons. A lowly ward who married the Duke of Covington. Quite the scandal.
Tea and biscuits sat on the low table in front of the ladies.
Upon Penny’s entrance, Millicent jumped up, shortbread crumbs spilling from her skirts. ‘Penny! How lovely to see you! Dear Lord, what on earth happened to your face?’
Coggins turned to her, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper only Penny could hear. ‘You have one hour. Not a moment more.’
Liam must have ordered Coggins to fetch her and issued the command for her to have an hour’s reprieve. Coggins’ cold tone left no doubt as to his opinion on the matter. A maid did not receive callers. Certainly not when her services were required in readying the house for a grand masque. And never in a room above-stairs with tea and tarts, as if she were a person of prestige and not just the below-stairs staff. But Coggins could hardly defy his lordship.
Penny bit her lip to stop the smile. Coggins’ skin was flushed, his lips pressed in a tight line. He looked ready to explode, and likely would do just that once her visitors left. The thought sobered her. Penny doubted she would get her mid-morning meal, or her supper break.
Not much I can do about that. I suppose I should enjoy this as I’ll be paying for it later regardless.
She tipped her chin up and nodded at him as if she were just as fine a lady as the three watching them so intently. Her future punishment was worth seeing Coggins sputter.
Oh dear.
If Coggins disliked her before, he hated her now. He was practically seething, clearly struggling to maintain a neutral expression in front of the titled women.
‘That will be all, Coggins.’ Millicent easily dismissed the man, ignoring the flash of violence in his eyes as he pivoted on his heel and clipped out of the room.
Millicent rushed over, grabbing both hands in her own. Citrus and starch engulfed Penny, bringing with it a wave of nostalgia. She had missed Millicent.
‘Penny! When Philippa told us you found a position at Lieutenant General Renquist’s home, we had to come visit.’
