But the day was warm.
He led her across the park and into the woods. The shade was a relief.
“Margaret and I spent many a day playing in these woods,” he broke into their companionable silence.
Penelope released his arm and skipped ahead of him. He was growing familiar with the notion that he knew her intimately now. How very strange it was, to go from friend to lover after so long of an acquaintance.
She was a different type of beautiful; he acknowledged the appreciation he had for her person, in that he knew her outer surface hid such a unique individual.
“When we were at Augusta Heights, before I departed. I said something that angered you.”
She turned her head back toward him, a little startled at his comment. Did she remember? Yes, yes, she remembered. What exactly had he said? Oh, yes.I never did understand you. So set against marriage, determined to emasculate every man you’ve ever met. Don’t you ever wish you didn’t have to be so… different?
That was when she’d pushed him off of her. He’d been contemplating kissing her even back then. “You have always been different, Penelope. I think that marriage to you will not always be easy, but it shall never be boring either.”
Penelope halted and stared down at the ground to contemplate what he’d said. “I could not be confined to a ‘typical’ lady’s existence.” He could tell that she was searching for her words carefully. Perhaps this was a difficult subject for her. “Reading gives a person a sort of freedom; to travel, to learn, to think and explore. In case you haven’t noticed, I read voraciously.”
He nodded.
“But then all of these ideas are always swirling around in my mind. Sometimes, they involve science, sometimes philosophy or government, sometimes all of them together. And I have a need to discuss them. To me, anyhow, this need is almost physical, Hugh. If I cannot exchange what is going on inside my head from time to time with other like-minded, intelligent individuals, I might be fit for Bedlam.”
“I understand.”
“If I were to appear frivolous, feminine, and silly, as many ladies do, I don’t think I could ever be taken seriously. I would find myself barred from the occasional male dominated discourse. I would be…”
“Left out?”
She shrugged. “Exactly.”
Memories of Penelope joining a few select gentlemen, on subdued occasions, reminded him that she’d been accepted somewhat into the masculine domain. He could not imagine any other lady ever doing so. “And so, you felt the need to set yourself apart.”
“Yes. I am still a woman, though. I am very much a woman, Hugh.”
But, he considered, he did not think she had always been so very certain of this fact.
“What of your cousin, Abigail? The Duchess of Monfort? I know you have always spent a great deal of time with her. I only met her a few times, but she does not seem to me to be as interested in learning as you are.”
Penelope turned and began following the path once again, in front of him. “Abigail has always been different as well. We needed each other. For although I could not converse with her on as many of the topics as I’d like, she did not rebuke me for my pursuits. She has always accepted me exactly as I am.”
“And did she ever make you feel less than a woman?” He surprisingly discovered that he was truly interested in Penelope’s answers. In this moment, he could not believe that there was another woman in all of England with as many different facets as his wife.
“Abigail is not that way.” They were nearing the edge of the woods. He could see the sunlight and blue sky at a distance. The trail sloped downward somewhat. “Abigail was not seeking a husband when she met Monfort. She had decided that marriage was not going to be in her future. And so, she did not fuss and giggle and make me feel any lack of femininity.”
He thought that perhaps he understood what she was saying. But he was not certain. The female mind, no,Penelope’s mind, was like a deep unchartered ocean. Most women relied upon their looks and their coquettishness in order to garner masculine attention. He knew this because it was often very effective. It was also one of the reasons he’d resisted marriage for as long as he had. How long could one find flattery and simpering attractive? He’d have been bored to tears before the first year was out.
He watched Penelope’s back as she strode ahead of him. She was rounded from behind, he could see. Her arms swung at her sides freely.
“Oh, Hugh, it feels so wonderful to be outside again!” She twirled around a few times with her face to the sky. “I do not always need to be in nature, but I require it from time to time.”
They had reached the open meadow once again. The trail went just a little ways forward before the land met the cliffs. The sound of the ocean was everywhere now, even though the waves crashed far below. He caught up to her and grasped her hand, pulling her off of the trail and around the trees. He had noted she wore her half boots. Slippers would not have sufficed.
She raised her face to his and smiled questioningly.
“You did say you wanted to go somewhere secret,” he laughed. “Margaret is the only other person I’ve ever come here with. Though I imagine others know of its existence.”
And then they were there. His “secret” place hid behind a small copse of trees and was really not a place for children to play at all. For the cliffs jutted inward here, and there was not a great deal of level land before the edge.
It had been exciting to be here as a child. One could look down and see the waves crashing into the sharp rocks below. At low tide a miniscule sandy beach beckoned dangerously. He would have to be certain his own children never ventured to this place alone.
