When Penelope began speaking, her mother looked intrigued. That expression changed to exasperation, which changed to outrage, which then turned into resignation.
The baroness had been through all of this with her daughter before.
“Best go to Summer’s Park then, darling. Perhaps you can host your salon next year, when your papa and I are in Bath.”
Thank you, God.
“If you are certain, Mother? I’ve been planning it already.”
“Tell me you have not sent any invitations out,” her mother demanded.
“I have not. But, Mama, I—”
“Very well, you may take the carriage and visit with the Duke and Duchess.” There was some consolation for her mother in that Penelope had ironically made connections with thecrème de la crèmeof society. “I shall make my apologies for you.” But her face looked as though all was lost.
Penelope wished she could tell her mother that she was not to be so disappointed after all.
If she could ever bring Hugh to ground, that was.
The thought pulled her up short. It was not even noon and if she and Rose took to the road today, they could be well out of Town by nightfall.
Not wishing to waste any time making excuses to her mother’s visitors, Penelope discreetly sidled around to the other side of the room and slipped through the entryway with nobody any the wiser.
And after she located Rose in the kitchen, the two women began preparations for their departure. They notified Peter and Mokey to ready themselves and the carriage, packed up as many of Penelope’s new dresses as was practical, and then changed into traveling clothes. It was to be a long and onerous journey. Penelope had only traveled to the Danburys’ main country estate once, about six or seven years ago, to attend a house party with her parents and several other members of society who found themselves seeking entertainments at the end of a season. In good weather, without mechanical problems or mishap, the trip had taken over two weeks! Of course, they’d traveled at something of a snail’s pace, and her mother insisted upon numerous and lengthy stops. Could Penelope be so hopeful as to believe they could get to Land’s End in just over one week?
* * *
She could be hopeful, but that did not mean it would happen.
The first afternoon, there was a great deal of traffic. Riots had broken out at Newgate, and a group of convicts had escaped, causing a long wait at the city gates while authorities searched vehicles heading out of town. The delay cost them nearly three hours. Not an auspicious beginning.
And as soon as they were finally free of the traffic congestions, rain began to fall.
They were forced to stop at an inn just outside of the city. It was crowded and not well kept, but they were lucky to find a vacancy. After eating the watered-down stew and wine they had delivered to their room, Rose and Penelope climbed into the bed and lay listening to the storm. Penelope did not ever force Rose to sleep on the small beds set aside for servants when she herself had a huge comfy mattress.
Neither of them was really very sleepy.
“Oh, Pen, I do hope the rain lets up tomorrow!”
“It needs to stop tonight. The roads are probably already a mess.”
Rose was silent for a few minutes. “You mustn’t worry about things you have no control over. We need to rely upon the fact that hedidbetroth himself to you, and he is a true gentleman when all is said and done. Viscount Danbury would not withdraw from the agreement.”
“I know, Rose, it’s just that once he discovers all that I’ve done, he’s going to hate me. And for good reason!Iwould be livid with a person who has done what I have. I’m an evil woman, Rose. Hugh Danbury has betrothed himself to an evil, horrible, conniving woman.”
“You’re not entirely evil, Pen,” Rose chuckled. “You did whip Augusta Heights into shape for him.”
Penelope moaned and rolled over. “And manipulative. I am evil, horrible, conniving, and manipulative.”
This self-pity was new for Penelope. She’d always been so very certain of herself. This wave of uncertainties crashing inside of her was quite foreign indeed.
“Well, you always said that if you were ever to marry, the gentleman in question would have to be an enlightened one. And if Hugh is able to look past your evil, horrible, conniving, and manipulative ways, he will have to be more than a little enlightened.” And then Rose rubbed Penelope’s back. “Go to sleep, Pen, you’ll feel better in the light of day.”
Penelope sniffed. She hoped Rose was right. She couldn’t feel much worse.
* * *
Or so she’d thought. She’d yet to add the cumulative effects of three days of motion sickness to the discomfort she had already been experiencing due to pregnancy. By the fourth night, Penelope fell into the bed they’d taken for the night before Rose could even change the bedding.
