None of them would ever do such a thing as she had.
If any of them guessed, or discovered…
That wave of panic that was becoming all too familiar swept through her once again. She had lain with a man who was not her husband. She had done so while he’d been intoxicated, and he did not even remember. And now she was increasingly increasing!
She wasmost definitely notfresh and innocent.
The door was swung open by a neatly uniformed footman, and Penelope exited the carriage behind her mother. As she did so, the fine silk fabric of her dress caressed her legs. It was just the reminder she needed to boost her confidence.
She would be fine. Everything would be fine. She mustn’t think the worst.
They climbed the steps and entered the crowded foyer to wait in the receiving line. Penelope nodded in the direction of a few familiar faces. She noticed a few second glances sent her direction. Her appearance was a bit startling, even to herself.
And then she saw him.
He was not alone.
Hugh, confirmed bachelor, had only ever attendedtonevents with his mother and sister or alone. The woman on his arm was neither his sister, nor his mother.
She was one of those simpering types, dressed in a dusty-rose pastel gown that matched the glow on her cheeks. Unlike many debutantes, the pastel shade did not cause her to look colorless and bland. No, the color suited her perfectly. She was darling.
Hugh tipped his head in the direction of his partner so that he could listen more carefully to what she had to say. Whatever she said caused him to chuckle and pat her hand fondly.
Panic shot through her. What on earth was he doing? Had he finally foundthe one, after all?
* * *
Hugh was already tiring of the season. As he stood in line, he wondered how he had allowed himself to be corralled into escorting the two women to yet another event.
Mrs. Merriman was reeling him in for her niece, that was how. With each passing day, Hugh found himself more and more thrown into the company of Miss Louisa Redcliffe.
Tonight, he’d promised the lady two dances. Although, neither was a waltz. Miss Redcliffe hadn’t yet received the nod from Almacks.
But two dances!
It was nearly the equivalent of an engagement announcement!
He needed to make a decision fast, before it was made for him.
“Wouldn’t you agree, my lord?” Miss Redcliffe had been speaking to him.
“Pardon?” He leaned down so that he could hear her. That was something else he was beginning to find quite annoying. The woman spoke in a voice just barely above the volume of a whisper. He was constantly having to lean toward her in order to hear her words.
He supposed that it wasn’t too horrible of a thought to have a wife one could not hear.
“This foyer would look lovely with a few Grecian statues. It’s rather bland, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Ah, yes, I suppose, although where would the guests stand if the room were crowded with effigies?” Really, who gave a damn about such nonsense? He glanced around. The foyer seemed fine to him. Grand columns and molded archways were tastefully placed in useful positions. What more did a foyer need?
And then, he caught a glimpse of red.
Not scarlet, as in a dress or a flower. But that particular golden-red hair, silken and curled.
The lady’s hair was set off most advantageously by an emerald gown with hints of blue, rather like some eyes he’d been remembering. Hugh’s gaze traveled the length of the lady’s shapely form and then settled on her face.
Green eyes glared at him.
Good God, the lady was Penelope!
