“Of course,” she answered automatically. Penelope did not gossip.
So, while she’d been pining away for him in January and February, he’d been recovering from a broken engagement. Poor thing.
Rome would not want her sympathy.
No, apparently, he wanted something else from her.
“Lady Eliza is very young. I hope she knew what she was doing.”
He grimaced. “I believe she is happy.” A sadness entered his eyes that she’d never seen there before. Suddenly, the affection one might feel for a brother rose up inside of her. Not jealousy.
She did not wish to extend platitudes. “You will be happy again,” she said sincerely and looked into his eyes.
Rome tilted his head back and gathered his pride once again. She was certain he’d revealed far more to her than he’d intended. The rest of the dance was completed without any further conversation. He returned her to her mother’s side and bowed formally.
As the evening progressed, Penelope realized she was both looking forward to and dreading the supper dance. He’d also signed for the last waltz. She hoped she could last that long.
What would she say to him? At least the supper dance was not another waltz. She’d not be forced into such intimate proximity so soon after their… whatever it was.
What had it meant? Had he felt something for her? Gentlemen didn’t really go about kissing ladies of the ton for no reason, did they? For a girl of such an advanced age, she really did lack understanding of the nuances of courting. Hellfire, she might as well be one of the tender debutantes for all she knew on the subject.
But tonight was the first time she’d ever found herself the object of such masculine attention. And not from only elderly gentlemen, but younger ones too. And all the while, she danced.
She danced with gentlemen she’d known most of her life but also several she’d just met tonight. She’d never remember all of their names. She barely remembered their faces.
She hoped she wouldn’t run into any of them again soon. Social niceties had never been a strong suit for her.
And then it was time for the supper dance.
Her mother was the first to see him approach. “My lord, I certainly am going to miss your mother this season. I was tempted to forego it myself when I read the letter she sent to me stating that she would be staying at Land’s End.”
Penelope was able to study him, unfettered, as he directed all of his charm toward her mother.
“She caught a bit of a fever earlier this spring. Although it isn’t anything serious, she said she’d rather not travel. When I visited a few months ago, her cough persisted. She assured me it was nothing serious, but one always worries when it’s one’s only parent.”
Penelope frowned. Cortland had said Lady Danbury was in good health. She’d always considered the viscountess one of the more indomitable dragons of theton.But of course, her son would not be in London for the season if his mother was in decline.
“Yes,” Penelope’s own mother broke into her thoughts. “She mentioned that in her letter, although it was a bit difficult to decipher. I’ve been corresponding with your mother for nearly fifty years, and I still require a magnifying glass to unravel what she’s written.” Winking up at the viscount, she added, “It’s almost as though I’m a spy, interpreting a secret code.”
Hugh laughed at her mother’s outrageous comment and then turned his gaze upon Penelope. The force of his looks and charm nearly stopped her heart. When he smiled, he had these tiny little wrinkles around his eyes. He pushed back the lock of hair that never failed to fall forward and then bowed toward her.
“My dance, I believe.” The piece of hair fell forward again. She’d always known he was handsome, but she’d never been so affected by his presence.
Physical attraction was a mysterious matter, indeed!
She rose and took the arm he held out to her. “You are correct, my lord.” Both her manner and her words sounded incredibly docile in her own ears.
When they were several feet away from her mother, Hugh leaned down and murmured, “Shall we forego the dance and take a turn about the garden instead?”
Oh, dear.
Did he intend to pick up where they’d left off earlier? If she said yes, would that make her something of a brazen hussy? And then, for the millionth time that night, the irony of her own thoughts nearly gave rise to hysterical laughter. For of course she was a brazen hussy!
“I believe we have some unfinished business,” he added.
Oh dear.
They could find some tucked away bench somewhere, away from the other guests. He’d planted a craving in her that she’d never expected.
