A resentment grew in Penelope’s heart and she was unable to dismiss it. She was hurt by his continued refusal to even consider her claim. Did he care for her? Did he respect her? It was obvious he did not trust her.
He loved her with his body, but never spoke of other feelings he might have for her. And what frightened her most was that she had fallen in love with him. One could not share so much with a person, a person they liked and respected, and not come to love him, could one?
Yes, she loved him.
She loved the way he constantly pushed away the lock of hair that was always falling into his eyes. She loved the earnestness he exhibited in finally taking on his full responsibility as viscount. She loved the tenderness he had in his voice whenever he mentioned some memory of his mother, or his concern for his sister.
Yes, she loved him.
But she was growing increasingly angry with him.
This was the state of affairs within their marriage when a great catastrophe fell upon the entire household.
Penelope and Hugh were just returning from church that morning when an ancient carriage, one Penelope recognized instantly, rambled up behind them. They’d just alighted from an open barouche themselves, and Hugh looked at her questioningly.
She gave him a pained look and conceded the inevitable. “It’s my mother.”
* * *
“Oh, my dears! Would you just look at her, my lord? Look at you, Penelope! You are absolutely huge!” And then, turning toward Hugh, the baroness wagged her finger at him, apparently deciding it was necessary to take him to task. “I always knew you were a scoundrel, Danbury. Swearing you would never marry! Avoiding the ladies of thetonat every turn. Your poor, dear, departed mama! I’ll bet you regret that you did not do your duty to Penelope before she passed. I told the baron he needed to take you to task for your actions, but at least you did the gentlemanly thing and have taken responsibility at last.”
Penelope winced as she watched Hugh’s face. “Mother, you must be exhausted! I wish you would have let me known you were coming. Come inside with us, out of the sun, and I will have a chamber prepared for you.”
Although the calendar showed September, summer had yet to retreat and Penelope had been looking forward to a glass of lemonade since the second hymn ended. Besides that, her back hurt after sitting in the wooden pew and her halfboots suddenly felt a size too small.
“Well of course, why haven’t you invited me in before now? This sunlight will ruin your complexion.” The baroness took Hugh’s arm and allowed him to assist her up the steps to the door.
Penelope arched her back and then followed the two of them. A footman rushed over to assist her.
Once inside, settled in the drawing room, Penelope ordered tea and a light nuncheon to be brought in to them. Her mother had sent the maid who’d always been her companion up to unpack her belongings and proceeded to berate the couple for breaking both God’s laws as well as society’s. Penelope was uncertain as to which mattered the most to her mother.
At first, Hugh had looked uncomfortable, but as her mother went on and on, he’d taken on that distant and cold look.
His mother blamed him for trying to run away from Penelope in London. Her mother blamed him for not marrying her much sooner. Her mother blamed him for taking advantage of her daughter. And if the baron were here, he would have taken some skin off of both of them.
Penelope’s father, she knew, had already corresponded with Hugh, and they’d signed the contracts of her dowry without dispute. Her father was a rather passive man.
Several times during the reprimand, Penelope did her best to steer the conversation toward a less disagreeable subject, but her mother could not have been any more tenacious. It was Hugh, excusing himself, which finally brought about an end to the tirade.
“I’ve an appointment this afternoon, my lady,” he said as he bowed, “and I’m afraid I shall have to leave you to Penelope’s care.”
“An appointment on a Sunday? And while you are in mourning? What is the world coming to?”
Hugh bowed again. “If you’ll excuse me.” He met Penelope’s gaze only briefly and she sent him an apologetic smile. He’d already withdrawn, however to that dark and distant place. Despair filled her at the cold look in his eyes.
In the ensuing silence, she turned to her mother and burst out, “Mother, how could you?”
Her mother merely waved a gloved hand in the air. “It was his due, dear. Why, look at you. He made you wait months before owning up to his immoral behavior.”
“No, Mother! You do not know what you are speaking of! He didnotknow! It was I who delayed in telling him! The late date of our marriage wasmyfault!”
But then her mother teared up. “I had never thought that a daughter of mine would do what you have done. I’ve always been tolerant of your radical ideas, but this time you’ve gone beyond the pale. Why, I could barely hold my head up in London after I’d received your letter. My dearest friends and acquaintances all congratulated me on your marriage, but also got their digs in. ‘Why such haste?’ They all speculated that you would marry so shortly after Lady Danbury’s death. Why would they marry and not invite the bride’s mother? Do you realize what you’ve done to me?”
Penelope sighed in exhaustion. Rubbing her hands over her face, she groaned. “Mama, I am very sorry. I am so very sorry, for bringing any shame upon you. I can only tell you that I did not intend for any of this to happen. I’m doing my best. But I cannot discuss this with you today any further.”
She stood up and rang the bell. When the manservant appeared almost immediately, she asked him to please show the baroness to her chambers. Her mother bristled, but it was obvious that she, too, had grown weary.
Before leaving, though, she turned to Penelope. “I will speak with both of you again at supper.”
