Wouldn’t it?
Penelope wiggled again, and this time, he allowed her to work her way free. She stood before him, smoothing her dress.
She did not look pale now. Not at all. In fact, a delightful flush had crept across her neck and cheeks.
“Miss Crone? Miss Crone, are you out here?” Pinkerton called.
Damn!
Hugh ran a hand through his hair and then tugged at his cravat, ensuring it was still tied properly. Considering what they’d been up to just moments before, he felt they looked rather respectable now.
“Ah, there you are, my dear. Whatever happened? I went to reclaim the lady I’d led onto the floor and was prevailed upon to lead Danbury’s partner instead. Danbury, are you out here?”
“I, ah, was not feeling well. Lord Danbury was kind enough to escort me outside. The, ah, room was…” She ought not have to explain herself to this pompous ass.
“The lady needed some air, Pinkerton, I’m surprised you didn’t notice. She was pale as a sheet. You’re welcome, by the way. It was my pleasure to escort your partner when she needed it.” Oh, hell, he’d forgotten all about Miss Redcliffe. He was definitely going to have to do something to distance that connection.
The earl narrowed his eyes but apparently was unwilling to press the issue. “Well, yes, yes, thank you, Danbury.” And then he winged his arm to Penelope. “Are you ready to return, my dear? I will escort you back to your mother.”
Hugh realized he was, once again, sitting in the lady’s company while she stood. Why did he only ever do this with her? He rose and searched her expression. Was she going to be all right with Pinkerton for the few moments it would take to return to the baroness?
She nodded in assent as though he’d asked the question aloud. Pinkerton pounced upon her unusual docility and pulled her toward the door. “You really must take better care of yourself, Miss Crone. A lady could lose her reputation by disappearing in the middle of a dance.” The man continued to harangue her as the two disappeared through the terrace door. Hugh wondered if Penelope would set him down in her normally abrasive manner. But somehow, he doubted it. She was no longer quite the same girl he’d thought he knew.
Which reminded him. He’d never gotten an answer out of her.
Chapter 10
Thankfully, Penelope’s mother hadn’t noticed her momentary absence. And the earl was apparently less interested in her now than he’d been earlier. One less thing to worry about. She didn’t think he’d seen anything on the terrace. Surely, if he had, he was not the sort to keep quiet about it.
Except upon reflection, she realized that had she and Danbury been discovered in their embrace, it would have solved her current problem. A hysterical burst of laughter nearly erupted at the thought. She would have been compromised by Hugh Danbury at the Helmers’ ball. She had a great appreciation for irony but really, that would have been unreal.
She’d almost told him. She doubted she’d be presented with a more perfect opportunity.
But they’d gotten distracted.
Penelope sat beside her mother and fanned herself slowly. Her heart raced at the mere thought of how Danbury had held her. How his lips had felt on hers.
She’d been with him that one time, yes, but this experience had been oh, so very different. He’d been tender, soothing; his touch had felt meaningful.
She’d not wanted to stop him. She’d not wanted to stop herself, but years of attendingtonfunctions had created a strong awareness of how society worked. There were eyes everywhere. And behind those curious eyes were suspicious minds and flapping mouths. Yes, Penelope understood what titillated theton. She’d had no wish to become the on-dit of the evening. Even if Lady Helmer would have appreciated the notoriety.
Her lips still tingled from his kiss though.
“You look flushed, dear,” Penelope’s mother interrupted her thoughts. “It’s nice to see you with a bit of color. You’ve looked so wan lately—more so than usual.”
Penelope waved her fan rapidly. “It’s warm in here.” A believable explanation for her flushed face, since the room was lit by literally hundreds of candles. She was amazed at how a mere quarter of an hour ago, she’d thought she might faint from dancing; she’d barely been able to keep herself standing upright. But now, after a few minutes in the company of Hugh Chesterton, she suddenly seemed filled with energy.
Which was a good thing, for seeing Rome Spencer moving in her direction, she glanced at her card upon her wrist and was pleased that it was he who’d claimed the next set. And it was a waltz.
What would it feel like to be held by the man she’d thought she’d loved for over a decade? Why did he wish to dance with her tonight, of all nights? In the past, he’d taken time to converse with her, much the same as he had with her father, and other gentlemen. Had she really made such a great change in her appearance? Or was it something else? Had her condition altered her demeanor? She’d lain with a man. And now she carried a child.
She couldn’t help but remember Hugh’s question.I never did understand you. So set against marriage, determined to emasculate every man you’ve ever met. Don’t you ever wish you didn’t have to be so… different?He’d said the question wasn’t an insult.I was merely wondering if it was necessary to be so different in order to be you.
She’d been so certain she had all the answers, not even three months before. So much had changed. She was experiencing a tumult that was causing her to question her very essence. Who was she now? Not a mother—yet. Heaven help her, she wasn’t anyone’s wife yet either. But she was no longer intent upon spinsterhood.
She’d never been afraid to be alone before. But now… Being an outcast loomed ominously.
“Miss Crone.” Rome Spencer bowed in front of her and then presented his arm. It was only a dance, and yet, Penelope felt herself blushing as she rose to take it. His smile had always been captivating. It was unnerving to have him turn his charm uponher.
