“What would you say,” Anthony began, “if I told you Mrs. Renton unties your knots every night?”
She met Anthony’s gaze in the mirror, eyes steady. “Mrs. Renton has been gracious enough to assist. I grieve for my husband, and this tapestry contains everything he held dear. Is it so surprising I find mistakes when I review the day’s work?”
“Not surprising at all.” Anthony paused. “As a matter of fact, Lord Thomas and I have, of late, had several discussions on the topic of your...perpetual grief.”
Her heartbeat quickened. “You needn’t trouble yourselves with my concerns.”
“What kind of family would we be if we did not?” Another skin-crawling smile. “We all—every man present—long for your presence. How could we not? So, we’ve decided that one of us should sit with you, every day...as a means of comfort and support.”
Her shuttle slipped from her fingers, knocking against the bobbins as it fell.
“Perhaps then,” he continued, “you will make fewer mistakes.”
“How surprisingly...kind.”
“Come, Penelope.” He leaned forward. “You must realize I’d offer more than kindness, if only you would allow.”
She rose from the chair and he, from the bench.
“Must I again remind you again that I prefer to be addressed as Lady Cheverley, Mr. Anthony?”
He ignored her protestation. “Is it not time to accept your fate? Surely you have not resigned yourself to a life without love.”
She flashed him a warning glance. “I am a married woman.”
“Which is it?” A faint smile graced his lips. “Grieving widow, or married woman? You cannot be both.” He waited. “Very well then, don’t answer. But hope—unwarranted hope—is nothing more than cruelty. If Lord Cheverley were alive, would he have gone for so long without word?”
No.Cheverley had written regularly before he’d disappeared. Long letters detailing his feats of bravery and closing with words of devotion.
And, as much as she’d treasured his letters, the reminder of his absence made her ache.
Anthony lowered his voice. “I would never leave you alone, if you were mine.”
She stiffened. “I belong to no one.”
He veiled his lids and whetted his lips. “Penelope...”
She turned away. Had he actually intended theykiss?
She lifted a handkerchief to her face and pretended she hadn’t noticed.
“Pardon,” she sniffed. “The subject is not, naturally, an easy one.”
He clamped hot hands on her shoulders. “It’s well past time you made future arrangements. For the good of the duchy.”
“The duchy.” She kept her voice light, though the heat in his hands made her ill. “Why should my marital status matter to the duchy? And, if the good of the duchy is your aim...”
Anthony cocked a brow.
“...Aren’t you concerned how rapidly your guests have been draining our resources?”
“Our?” he queried.
“Yes,our.We are family, as you pointed out.”
“What makes you think Ithwick’s resources are being drained?”
“Come now, Mr. Anthony.” She repeated his phrasing while removing his hands from her shoulders. “The lavish meals you supply your guests have decimated our supply of beef, deer, chicken, and pheasant.”
