Chapter 25
Pen felt her entire world reel.
She wasn’t entirely sure whether that was because she’d kissed Alworth, or because she finally stood in front of Marcus.
Who’d been kissing a lady in a flimsy gown, sitting on his lap, pouting seductively. Marcus leaned back against the sofa; his lips twisted into a cynical smile, as though he found the situation of the four of them caught in a love nest amusing.
Pen’s chest rose and fell under her laboured breathing.
No one spoke. Only the water in the fountain tinkered.
Having finally found Marcus, after years of yearning, Pen did the only sensible thing one could do in this situation. She tore her arm from Alworth’s grasp and rushed back through the tapestry door, elbowing her way through the crowd in the ballroom until she reached the garden. The fresh night air cooled her overheated cheeks. She dropped on her knees and searched with trembling fingers for the leather satchel, which the footman had deposited behind the bush.
It did not make any sense whatsoever, but she urgently needed to change back into her boy’s clothes. Immediately, and on the spot.
She needed to talk to Alworth. She wanted Alworth from the club, not the Alworth who’d just kissed her. Alworth from the club could explain what had just happened. He would shrug everything away with a charming smile. If she turned back into Pen Kumari, they could discuss things reasonably and everything would go back to the way it used to be.
It would undo the kiss.
It would undo that look in his eyes.
Maybe it could undo what she’d seen with Marcus.
She would tell him it had all been a mistake.
Her knees still wobbled as she thought of the kiss.
It made no sense at all, least of all to her, that she needed to be wearing men’s clothes to talk to him. But that was how she felt. She couldn’t talk to him like that, in her petticoats. Not after she’d kissed him.
Pen managed to sneak by Charlotte and the other guests into an unoccupied chamber and changed her clothes. She took off the braids and flowers on her head and tied, with trembling fingers, her hair back to the simple tail that Pen Kumari wore.
When she felt the familiar breeches close upon her legs, she felt her confidence return.
Thus clad, she had the courage to step up to Alworth. She re-entered the ballroom and found him conversing with Charlotte as though nothing had happened.
Her face fell when she saw her. “Pen. Really?” she said with a sad undertone.
Pen felt a pang of remorse.
She nodded curtly at Alworth.
“Pen.” There was resignation in his voice. “I certainly did not expect you to show up at this hour.”
“Neither did I.” She grabbed a glass of champagne and gulped it down. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
Charlotte pursed her lips in disapproval. “I will go look for William, then.” She threw Alworth a quelling look and left for the card room.
“There was no need for you to change into your boy’s clothes,” Alworth said. “You know, I’ve known about your charade from the moment we met, from the moment you hurtled into me.”
She listened with bewilderment. “You helped me into White’s knowing I was a woman?”
Alworth grinned. “Naturally.”
Pen digested this. “I thought you’d figured it out later, when you read the story about my parents in the papers. Why did you not say anything earlier?”
“And ruin my primary source of amusement and entertainment?”
“Is that what I have been to you? Amusement and entertainment?” She fixed her dark eyes on him.
