She smelled of strong perfume and spirits. Her bodice was pulled so low that nothing of her shape was left to the imagination. She was pretty, but tiredness lined her eyes.
The memory of pulling Penelope into his lap just over a month ago—had it really been just a month?—jarred him. So much had changed. His entire life, turned over.
Holding Penelope that night had been sweet. Holding this woman now, this barmaid, felt slightly sordid. Penelope’s actions, what she’d done to him, had been sordid. She’d been conniving to trap him, hadn’t she?
She’d also been utterly desperate. He understood that now. Hugh gently pushed the woman back onto her feet. “I’ll take another ale, ma’am, and then I’ll be on my way.”
She pouted for a moment but then quickly shrugged and flounced back to the bar. Women were never happy to be dismissed. Hugh pulled out his fob watch.
It was nearly nine o’clock. Was Penelope sleeping already? He’d left her at home nearly ten hours ago.
When the woman returned with his drink, Hugh paid her handsomely and left. He’d realized that he hadn’t the stomach for dalliance outside of the vows he’d made today. Perhaps someday but not today. And he guessed he would not likely feel comfortable with it for a long time.
He knew his father had kept mistresses on the side while he’d been alive, and he also knew of the pain it had caused his mother. Was he made up of the same cloth?
Not today.
* * *
Rose had gone to bed hours earlier, but Penelope could not sleep. So, she pulled out the most recent household books, reluctantly handed over to her by the housekeeper, and began perusing through the expenses and allowance entries in order to develop an understanding of the goings on here at Land’s End.
Several candles sat burning on her desk, and her reading spectacles perched upon her nose somewhat crookedly when a sharp knock sounded at her door.
The servants had moved all of her belongings into the mistress’ suite. Lady Danbury had not utilized the room for years, but it had been cleaned and aired out nicely.
Penelope knew that it adjoined Hugh’s.
“Come in,” she answered automatically. She wore her night rail and nothing else, but the billowing gown covered her from neck to wrists to ankles.
The door opened to reveal a more disheveled Hugh than he’d been when she last saw him.
He was dressed in only his shirt, waistcoat, and fitted breeches. He appeared unshaven, and his hair was windblown. She could smell the yeasty hint of ale upon him.
She dearly hoped he was not drunk.
As he entered, he didn’t sway or stagger. He appeared to have all of his senses about him. He walked in and sat down on one of the brocaded chairs near her bed. She noticed he’d removed his shoes.
“I should have known you’d not be frittering your time away sleeping.” He watched her with a curious light in his eyes. He wasn’t glaring at her, though, and that was a welcome change.
Penelope glanced at the books and shrugged. Setting her pencil down, she turned to give him her full attention. “Did you travel far today?” She wasn’t quite certain what to say to him in his present mood. He looked tired, though. He looked as though he’d journeyed a hundred miles.
He shook his head, “Not far.” And then Penelope realized why he was here. Had he, in fact changed his mind about… intimacy?
He met her eyes, and she recognized the intensity there. She wasn’t sure what to call it. Was it desire? Was it lust? She knew it was not love.
But it wasn’t that cold hatred she’d been on the receiving end of all week long.
“Is it safe? For the babies?” His question confirmed her realization.
Penelope swallowed hard. “The midwife said as long as I’m not feeling uncomfortable.” At the time, she’d scoffed at the midwife’s instructions regarding such matters, but now she was glad to be informed.
“Are you?”
“Uncomfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Not presently. But I don’t know about during…” She knew one thing for sure. She had been craving this. That was another thing the midwife had told her about. The increased sexual desire that a woman in her condition might experience.
