Last spring, Maple Hall had experienced a disastrous fire, and the former earl had died. “So, the estate is coming along, then?” He could not help but note that Hawthorne was more than happy to give up some of the rebuilding decisions to a woman. There was no way in hell Hugh would ever trust Louisa Darling with anything so important. The only woman of his acquaintance that he would trust with such decisions would be…
“It is, magnificently, might I add. I’ve realized one has less negotiating to do when one’s wife wins them over first. Several of our old tenants have returned, and we’ve a marvelous crop planted this spring. Of course, it will be years before the estate is in the black again, but I’m pleased at the direction it’s taking.”
Hugh chatted with the man for quite some time before Hawthorne excused himself to find his countess. “She always saves the first dance for me,” Hawthorne said, winking as he turned, and the he added, “And the last, of course, too.”
Which reminded Hugh of his own obligations.
Chapter 9
With every intention of locating and then planting herself in the wallflower section, Penelope entered the ballroom behind her parents.
And then the most unusual thing happened.
Gentlemen began seeking her out in order to place their names on her dance card. Initially, it was a few older, titled gentlemen, but gradually, some of the younger men approached her, and a few of them were sought-after bachelors. Such a hoot!
At first, she was suspicious. What was this all about? Was it a joke? But as the compliments piled on, and her card filled, she gradually realized that her changed appearance was amazingly causing something of a stir.
In any other circumstance, she might appreciate the irony of her situation. For she was not an eligible maiden as her parents believed her to be. No, she was not a maiden at all.
If the truth of her situation were to become known, nobody would dare meet her eyes, let alone speak to her. Glancing down in awe at her nearly full dance card, Penelope did not see the latest man to approach. She recognized his voice, though.
“Miss Crone.” The well-modulated masculine tone sent shivers down her spine. She raised her gaze from her card to look into eyes the color of a February sky. Eyes she’d mooned over for most of her adult life. Blinking in surprise, she dipped into a well-practiced curtsey.
“My lord,” she said. Viscount Darlington, Rome Spencer, stood before her. Where was the emptyheaded blonde he’d been courting last year?
“Please don’t tell me you’ve already promised all of your dances this evening.” He cocked one eyebrow and tilted his head slightly. “Surely, you’ve saved one for an old friend.”
Thiswas most unexpected. “You wish to dance with me?” Oh, that was stupid. That was what he’d said, wasn’t it? But she was used to him speaking to her like one of the fellows. Perhaps this was just a ruse to discuss the price of corn or the latest bills presented in Parliament.
Except that recently she had not kept as current on Parliamentary matters. She’d been caught up in fashion and husbands and babies and such. If he did wish to discuss current events, he would be sorely disappointed.
Rome did not answer her question. Instead, withdrawing a pencil from his pocket with one hand, he raised her wrist with his other. “Ah, delightful. I was hoping you had a waltz left.” And he claimed her last available dance.
“This one is mine, I think.” One of the older gentlemen who’d approached her first stepped between them. What was his name? Oh, yes, the Earl of Pinkerton.
Penelope looked apologetically at Rome. “It will be an honor, my lord.” Turning toward the earl, she placed her hand upon his arm and allowed him to lead her out to the opening set. Luckily, it was a simple country dance. She would not have to be close to her partner very often.
Standing in the long line of revelers, she was staggered by the fact that Rome Spencer had put his name on her dance card. It made her feel all of seventeen again. She’d been in love with him forever, it seemed. But she’d given up on him.
Yes, and she’d seduced Hugh Chesterton.
Who was now standing across the way from her, just to the right of the earl.
Hugh really was a very good-looking man. Or perhaps the inferior looks of Lord Pinkerton merely caused him to benefit from the comparison.
She noted Hugh’s soft brown eyes, just a few lines on their outer edges from smiling, and something warm blossomed inside of her. He was not smiling now, however. No, he grimaced slightly as he bowed toward the lady on her left.
On the other side of Pinkerton stood Rome.
Rome was not looking at his own partner, rather he was watchingher.
Penelope did not recognize the lady on her right, the lady who was to partner Rome. The music began, and her partner pulled her from her thoughts as he took her hand and proceeded to turn her about the circle.
“My dear Miss Crone, why is it that I have never danced with you at a ball before?”
Penelope merely smiled at him as he was forced to release her and dance with another lady.
Hugh caught her hand just then and placed his other on her waist. She resisted the urge to shiver. She felt slightly giddy, however, when his breath touched her ear. “Watch out for Pinkerton, Penelope. He’s had four wives and is on the hunt for another. Heavy-handed bastard from what I understand.”
