She was exhausted. She didn’t have the energy to go gallivanting any longer. And she’d never felt a greater relief than when, as the carriage drew to a halt outside of the majestic home, Hugh himself appeared at the top of the steps.
He looked grim, indeed.
Chapter 17
Hugh had first thought the approaching carriage was another of his mother’s sisters arriving to pay their respects. There had been four others in the two weeks before. But even from a great distance, he’d known. He’d seen that carriage before. It was not one of his aunts this time.
He could hardly believe that Penelope had the temerity to come all this way, uninvited, in what he was certain was an attempt to solidify their engagement.
Guilt warred with the outrage inside of him. He had, as of yet, not decided whether he was going to honor his proposal. For it had been given under false pretenses.
He’d proposed under the assumption that she had feelings for him. He’d proposed under the assumption that she would come to him not only chaste but free of any encumbrances that would prevent him from making a family with her—making a family that would be his, that was.
He was surprised, that in addition to feeling angry and betrayed, he was sad.
Sad to realize that what he had hoped was going to be a satisfying union might not be a union at all.
He’d promised to give her his name. With his name came protection. Was it even an option for him to cry off? Certainly, nobody else knew of their engagement, and even if they did, there was not a single person who would hold him to it. Her lack of virtue alone was just cause. Hell, he’d be considered a fool to follow through with it.
And then for some reason, his mother came to mind.
She would have been delighted at the prospect of a grandchild so soon. Only if it were his child, though. Surely, she would not have welcomed another man’s bastard as his heir.
And suddenly Penelope was here, climbing out of the carriage, a footman assisting her.
She looked so drawn and tired that he very nearly let go of his anger for a moment.
He realized that she was staring at the house, at the black crepe on the door and the drawn curtains. Hugh wore the requisite black armband over his coat.
“Oh, Hugh, I’m so sorry!” She stepped toward him with her hands outstretched to take his, but he did not remove his own from behind his back. Rather awkwardly, she dropped her own and stood before him. Although her hair was confined to its normal harsh knot in the back, a few soft bangs had escaped to soften her look. The sun brought out golden strands he’d not noticed before. And the blue specks in her eyes burned even brighter as they seemed to plead with him for something.
“I know that I have not been invited,” she stated baldly and then looked around at her anxiously hovering servants and the butler, who now stood holding the door wide for their entry. “Please, Hugh, could we have a word in private?”
Ah, so she was looking for reassurances from him—reassurances he was not, as of yet, certain he would give.
“I have an appointment, I’m afraid, and cannot make myself available until later this evening.” He glanced behind him at his butler and nodded slightly. “I will have rooms readied for you and your maid. You are welcome to stay and rest from your journey.” And without waiting for her response, Hugh marched down the steps and around to the stables.
He did not have an appointment, but he was going to make her wait. Damn that woman! He wished he’d never met her!
* * *
When he returned to the house, he learned that the lady and her maid were indeed, locked up in their room and resting. They’d been served biscuits and sandwiches at tea time.
“Please tell Miss Crone that I will meet with her promptly in the drawing room.”
“Yes, my lord.” The housemaid curtsied before disappearing.
He did not have long to wait before Penelope appeared. And if he was not mistaken, she did seem to have thickened slightly about the waist. She entered the room tentatively but did not curtsey.
He did not stand.
He did, however, gesture to the chair across from his own. “By all means.” He knew his voice was unwelcoming. Seeing her made him angry all over again. It bothered him even more that whereas his head quite clearly hated her for what she was doing, his body was still attuned to her. And his heart jumped, just a little, to be in her presence once again.
What fools men were.
She sat down carefully, a little awkwardly even, and then looked up at him.
“I am so sorry, Hugh, for the loss of your mother. I know how much you cherished her. I’ve always admired her. She was one of the most likeable ladies of theton.”
