Penelope missed her cousin. Abigail had a gentleness of spirit about her; she’d always managed to find the silver linings in the thunderstorms.
Penelope could use a silver lining or two.
“Her grace would never hate anyone,” Rose stated matter-of-factly. “I’ve never known a more optimistic person.”
Penelope laughed at the truth of those words. What would Abigail do if she were in Penelope’s shoes?
Abigail would not be angry with Hugh at all.
Penelope knew that she’d made a horrible decision when she’d walked into Cortland’s library that evening, but she could not help being hurt by the fact that he did not believe her. Did he not know himself? Did he not know what he was capable of while so far into his cups? What other things had he done when he’d had too much to drink? Things that he might not even remember?
“And your mother?”
Ah, yes, she was going to have to tell her parents eventually. Her mother would be in raptures over the fact that her only daughter had finally wed. She was not going to be quite as thrilled with the circumstances of the wedding, nor with the early arrival of her grandchildren.
It was odd. The babies would not be born for months still, and yet Penelope already felt like a mother to them, to her little fishes.
“I thought to speak with Hugh first about that, too. I’ve made so many of the decisions regarding his life, his future, that I feel it only fair to defer to him at this point—as inconsequential as these matters are.”
This was so very unlike her. The old Penelope most likely would have already sent an announcement to the papers and all of her relatives. The old Penelope would… She dropped the knitting once again and smiled. “I’ve a nursery to prepare. And the estate books to look over. I need to meet with the housekeeper and discuss the poor quality of the meals we’ve been presented with since our arrival.” There were things she could do without Hugh’s opinion. Things that would improve the quality of his life here at Land’s End. She would stop wallowing as of this moment.
Yes, it was her wedding night, and no, her bridegroom was nowhere to be found, but there was not a thing in the world she could do about that. She’d told him she was sorry. She’d tried to convince him of the truth. And today she’d even gone so far as to give him the story he’d wanted to hear.
Hugh was quite simply going to have to come to terms with a few things on his own.
* * *
After leaving Penelope, Hugh drove around the countryside for a while and eventually found himself at a local tavern in the nearby village. He’d removed his jacket and cravat, but his clothing still reeked of quality.
He did not care.
He found a seat in the corner and ordered a pint from the curvaceous bar wench who waited on him. Conversation lulled slightly when he’d entered, but once they all realized there was nothing interesting about him, the volume of the room gradually increased again.
The beer was warm but strong.
As the sun set, the room filled. Eventually, he was forced to share his table and the bench where he’d been resting his boots. A few of them seemed slightly familiar to him; he wondered if any were tenants of his. Nobody addressed him, however, and nobody seemed to realize just exactly who he was. The conversation he overheard proved just that.
“Lord Danbury married today!” a voice rang out above the din. “What with the viscountess toes up for not even month, one wonders at the timing.”
Laughter followed.
“Oy, that’s the right of it,” a different voice pitched in. “Word is the new lady up there is well on her way to delivering the heir. The viscount’s tomfoolery has apparently caught up with him.”
Hugh knew he had a reputation for some wildness in the past. He should not be surprised to hear such an opinion of himself.
“About time’s all I can say. Someone needs to settle that pup down.”
“The poor lad, for all his raking and carousing, one thing’s for certain, that boy loved his mama.”
A few mugs rose in a very casual toast. Everybody in the room seemed to know one another.
“Do you think he’ll stay put for a while?”
“That one? Nah, he’ll probably leave the ball and chain here and go back on up to London. Doubt he’ll keep to one woman for long!” Lots of laughter followed this statement.
Hugh had been staring at the foam on his beer throughout all of this. He was only slightly surprised when the pretty barmaid fell into his lap.
“What’s your story, mister?” She wiggled her bum against his lap. He’d been paying her well each time she brought him a drink. He supposed she was looking to see what other services she could provide for him.
