Perhaps Octavian had been right after all.You can take a girl from the gutter but not the gutter from the girl.She’d come a long way, yes, but she’d never be able to stop looking back. Not completely. And she wouldn’t burden Marcus with her disgrace.
“I do trust you,” she whispered.
But I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust that I’m good enough for you.
His eyes searched hers. “All right, love,” he said finally.
She was relieved when he let the matter drop. They continued on their walk, their conversation turning to lighter topics as they completed the loop around the pond. By the time they headed back toward the cottage, her mood had lifted again. Their banter had grown downright flirtatious. She was giggling, dodging his playful hands, as they approached their love nest.
The laughter stuck in her throat when she saw a rustic horse-drawn wagon by the cabin. Pushing aside a pile of blankets, a woman wearing a plain grey coat descended from the driver’s seat. Although twelve years had passed since Penny had last seen that gentle face and those warm brown eyes, it suddenly felt like only yesterday. With a cry, she ran forward, slipping a little in the snow, and threw her arms around her friend.
“Flora,” she said breathlessly. “What are you doing here?”
“I received your note, and I had to come make sure you were all right.” Flora’s gaze went to Marcus, who remained at a respectful distance, his expression curious. “If need be,” she said in a low voice, “I was going to pretend that I was a stranger lost in the woods who just happened by your cottage.”
“You don’t have to pretend. I told Marcus about you… although he doesn’t know that you’re alive,” Penny said, her tone equally soft.
“Did you tell him everything about your past?” Flora whispered.
Penny bit her lip. “Most everything.”
Understanding rippled through Flora’s eyes. She said quietly, “The troubles between you, my dear—are they patched up?”
“Yes. He’s forgiven me for deceiving him.” Expelling a breath, Penny smiled and linked her arm with her friend’s. “Come and meet him. I think you’ll approve.”
“If he loves you the way you deserve, I already do,” Flora said.
~~~
If learning that Flora Hudson was still alive and now administered to the needy as Sister Agatha came as a surprise to Marcus, thenseeingPenny with Agatha proved a revelation. He’d witnessed his wife occupying many roles: doting mama, loving wife, caring mistress, glittering society hostess… she was a woman who could do anything she put her mind to. Yet he didn’t think he’d ever seen this relaxed and youthful side of her.
Her joy was childlike, contagious, giving him a glimpse of the vulnerable, sweet girl she might have once been. The one that Agatha had clearly had a hand in raising. For it was clear to him that Penny and Agatha were kin, even if they didn’t share blood. And he was filled with profound gratitude for this lady who’d clearly taken his Penny under her wing.
Sister Agatha was soft-spoken, pious, a handsome woman who had aged with indifferent grace. It was difficult to fathom that the lady had once been a spy. When she spoke about her charitable works through the Society of St. Margery, located some half-day’s ride from the cottage, however, her eyes lit with her strength of will. The kind of tenacity and passion he’d seen on his wife’s face when she took up a task, be it tackling some knotty household problem or planning her next society event or even fighting for their marriage.
Yes, he owed a debt to Sister Agatha.
After they finished supper—a delicious stew that Penny had made, surprising him yet again with her hidden culinary skills (was there anything the woman couldn’t do?)—they continued chatting in front of the fire. Agatha took the armchair closest to the hearth, whilst he and Penny shared the snug love seat opposite.
“I cannot wait for you to meet the boys,” Penny was saying. “They will adore you.”
“I’ve heard so much about James, Ethan, and Owen that I feel as if I know them already.” Agatha turned warm yet astute brown eyes upon him. “Though for reasons of necessity Pandora wrote infrequently, she never spared the superlatives when describing your children, my lord.”
“When it comes to our offspring, my wife wears rose-colored lenses.” He winked at Penny. “Don’t believe a word she says, Sister Agatha. She’ll have you believing the rascals are angels, complete with halos and wings.”
“She used even more superlatives when describing you,” Agatha said.
“I take them all back.” Penny narrowed her gorgeous eyes at him. “Our boys arenotrascals—they’re merely high-spirited.”
“She means this literally,” Marcus told his wife’s friend. “Owen’s spirit recently moved him to scale fifteen feet up a tree, quashing Penny on the way down.”
Agatha looked like she was fighting back a smile. “Oh dear. They take after you, do they, Pandora?”
“Luckily, they get their hard heads from their papa,” Penny muttered. “Owen didn’t suffer so much as a bruise.”
Marcus smiled. “You must come see the hoodlums for yourself, Sister Agatha. And you will be the judge of who has the right of it, me or my wife.”
“Thank you for the invitation, my lord. I’d like to pay a visit to London soon to meet your family, but with the reconstruction of the Abbey underway, all hands are needed at present. In fact, I’ll be heading back tomorrow.”
