Mr. Percival, noticing Penelope and her friend at last, bowed to them. The expression on his face greatly alarmed Penelope, who rose.
“What is it, Mr. Percival? Has something happened?”
“Nothing to concern yourself with, Lady Penelope. Now, I must find His Grace. Please excuse me, Lady Penelope. Miss Hughes.” He turned and rushed down the hall. Penelope looked at Bridget who sat with her eyebrows raised.
“This is peculiar. He seemed utterly vexed.”
Bridget nodded in agreement. “He is all at sixes and sevens.”
Penelope sat for a moment, her lips pursed, and then got up. “I shall investigate,” she declared, much to Bridget’s amusement.
“You have a constable’s streak in you, as well as a matchmaker. Very well. I shall remain here and continue filling my stomach with your delicious sweetmeats and gain ten pounds.” She grinned as she placed a piece of marzipan in her mouth.
Penelope turned and rushed down the hall, past the butler. Mr. Percival’s heavy footsteps echoed on the marble floor and she caught up with him just as he turned to enter into the library, where her father liked to spend his time.
She rushed forward and arrived at the library just as the steward closed the door behind him. Despite the thickness of the door, his loud, clear voice sounded out through the gap between the door and the frame.
“Your Grace,” he said in a grave voice. “I have just had word from Carlton Manor. He is back. The Earl of Carlton returned this morning. And he intends to stay.”
Penelope swallowed and stepped away from the door, not stopping until her back collided with the opposite wall. She stood, her eyes wide and her heart sinking. The old feeling of betrayal that had soured her once sweet feelings for Daniel Jenson, the Earl of Carlton, returned. Why was he back now? And to stay?
The possibility of seeing him filled her with dread. She thought of the many letters she’d written him over the years when he was at Eton. Not one answered. Not one visit. Nothing. It was as though their shared past meant nothing to him.
No. It cannot be true. It must be a mistake.
She did not move as a wave of emotion overtook her, for she knew that if it was indeed true, then she would have to face him—and the buried feelings that lay deep within her heart.
Chapter 4
Daniel and Alistair sat in the back of the Royal Mail coach, arms pressed together as the man across from them glared.
“I cannot believe the bad luck we have had,” Alistair moaned. “My elbow feels as though a horse has kicked me.”
Daniel nodded in agreement. “I know it, old chum. My head feels as though I’ve just returned from a night at the Upper Rooms at Bath.” He rubbed his temples. “We were fortunate, all things considered.”
His friend scoffed. “I suppose.” He glared at the other occupants of the coach who were also seated, pushed together in the most uncomfortable of positions. After their carriage crashed on the outskirts of London, the two young men found themselves somewhat stranded. The carriage was wrecked because of a lightning strike close by which spooked the horses into bolting at such speed that the carriage ran off the road and into an embankment. Upon recovering their senses, the two men left the coachman behind to attend to the repair, and walked into the nearest village where, after a lengthy stop at a tavern, they succeeded in bribing the Royal Mail coachman into allowing them passage. Much to the chagrin of the already cramped passengers.
They had been squeezed into the coach for several hours when, at last, they neared their destination.
As Carlton Manor stretched out before them, Alistair’s eyes widened.“Marvelous, simply marvelous! Old chum, I cannot believe that you have kept this from me for all of these years. I knew you owned an estate in the country, but this? This is a palace! The balls we could hold here. The dinner parties, and the hunts!Yes, I see it before me now. By Jove, we ought to have a house party here for our London friends. Even Beau Brummel would come, I’m sure of it.”
At once Daniel shook his head. “There will be no balls or dinner parties here. I am here out of duty. The very moment that I locate an estate steward who is trustworthy, we are leaving.”
Alistair stared at him for a moment, his mouth hanging open. This was not how Daniel usually spoke to his friend. This was not how he spoke to anybody. However, the notion of Carlton Manor as anything other than the dreary place he once was forced to call home set his bristles up. Seeing the expression on his friend’s face made Daniel regret his choice of words and tone at once.
“I am sorry, Alistair. I cannot control myself sometimes when I’m here. It fills me with misery just to look at the building. It also fills me with dread that I must step inside. I’m grateful that you are here with me, even though it is against your own wishes.”
At once, Alistair’s expression softened. “I told you once and I will tell you again. Lord Carlton and Lord Fernley—chums for life. It is a promise we made at Eton and one I will honor until the day I die.”
The balding man who’d paid them no mind other than to glare and grunt at their unorthodox arrival, looked up at Daniel. “Are you the Earl of Carlton?”
Daniel swallowed, but nodded. “That I am.”
The man’s eyes widened and he pushed himself further into the back of the coach as if trying to get away. The woman beside him, his wife it seemed, looked at him. Daniel turned away but could not help but overhear the whispered explanation. “That’s the son of the mad Earl. The one who killed his wife.”
The woman gasped as the vehicle came to a stop. Daniel wanted nothing more than to get out and away from the other passengers. He turned to Alistair who seemed not to have heard the exchange, so fascinated was he with the countryside before him. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” Alistair motioned for Daniel to exit first and with a grunt, he pushed open the carriage door and stepped out. It had rained earlier in the day, as was evident by the wet grass. He stepped carefully out of the carriage as not to soil his shoes and trousers.
