“Hmm.” He nodded, deep in thought, and as he stepped outside, he heard the door close behind him. The beautiful Penelope Armstrong was not married nor about to be, and he wondered why not. She should have suitors lining up for miles. If he could find a wife like her, he would consider himself a very lucky man.
But then he remembered her watchful gaze, as if she had found him wanting. Could he gain her approval? Could he change the way those remarkable eyes lingered on him? For some reason, Miss Armstrong’s good opinion now seemed far more important to him than that of the English lords and ladies he had come to impress.
Deep in thought, Callum set off back to his aunt’s house in Mayfair.
Chapter Four
“He agreed topay how much?” Selina exclaimed breathlessly, eyes shining as they met her mistress’s. “I can’t believe he didn’t quibble!”
“Nor can I. I was certain he would. Now we can order more coal.” Penelope was so relieved. “But for goodness sake, don’t say anything to my brother,” she added and then felt guilty. But it was true, if Mortimer heard of her good fortune with her new client, he would tell Uncle Bertie, and then they would be around in a flash begging for more funds. She was aware that the time had come to refuse him, but not today. She did not want to spoil her good mood.
“How long do you have to turn MacKenzie into a gentleman?” Selina asked with a doubtful look.
Penelope grimaced. “His aunt is holding a ball in his honor in three weeks. I don’t think I can do it. And yet I must!”
“Yes, you must,” Selina gave her a long look. “He’s very handsome. Pity you’re not in the market for a husband. Training him to be a gentleman could take a lifetime.”
Penelope pulled a face. “I am afraid I am not respectable enough for him.”
Just for a moment she allowed herself to think of it—MacKenzie as part of her life. He was the sort of man who appealed to her, in particular his “manliness”. When he had smiled at her just now! She didn’t want to admit it even toherself, but she missed the intimacy of her relationship with Lord Muir. He had been older and it hadn’t been often that he took her to bed, but when he had, she’d found such pleasure in the joining of their flesh. The three years since he had died had meant three years alone.
There had been no one else. She had considered it, but it seemed chancy to take a lover and risk her growing popularity among the people she was trying to persuade to hire her as a society tutor. They might forgive a fallen woman, but only if that woman sought redemption by turning her back on her past.
Now the thought of MacKenzie was stirring up all the wicked feelings she had been trying to suppress.
Aware of Selina watching her with knowing eyes, she searched for something else to say to distract her clever friend.
“I have three weeks to get MacKenzie ready for his aunt’s ball, and if that is successful, perhaps I can offer to help him find a suitable wife. That would mean more fees and fill up the coffers even more.”
“Why do you think he chose us?”
“His aunt is the Countess of Strathmore. She arranged the appointment for her nephew. She had heard that my success in bringing my clients up to scratch was unparalleled.”
Selina looked like she was going to wonder aloud whether this might turn out to be her first failure but obviously thought better of it.
Penelope knew she could not afford to fail.
When her parents had been killed, Penelope had learned that what she had always thought of as her settled and comfortable life was an illusion. She was just eighteen and due to make her come-out, but it had been delayed. Her father had made plenty of excuses and she had accepted them, but once he was gone she had found out the truth. The family were in serious debt. They were about to lose everything.
How would she look after Mortimer, her young brother? How would she look after herself?
Her only living relative—her grandparents were dead—was her Uncle Bertie, her mother’s brother, but he was a scatterbrained fellow more interested in his inventions than his niece and nephew. There was only one other person interested in helping. Lord Muir. He was an old friend of the family, or so she had always believed. He had called upon her to offer, so she thought, his condolences, but that meeting had not gone as expected.
He said he would help her financially if she became his mistress.
Once the shock had worn off, practical Penelope did not see that she had any choice. She could not take a position as a governess or companion, not when she had her eight-year-old brother to care for, and placing him in an orphanage was not something she could contemplate. And actually, Lord Muir was quite handsome in a mature sort of way, with his greying hair and the lines around his eyes from smiling. She knew him, and she trusted him.
She had said yes to his proposal.
Penelope understood now how naïve she had been, how unworldly. Lord Muir had been kind to her, generous even, but their relationship had not been one of love. It had been convenient. She needed his help, and he needed someone he could pay intimate visits to. He had never had any intention of marrying her. He was a widower, and his marriage had been unhappy and not something he wanted to repeat. Penelope had done what was asked of her, ignoring the disapproval of her old friends and the avoidance of her peers. Tucked away in the house in Chelsea, her days had dragged. At times she had been intolerably lonely. Soon her longing to escape her claustrophobic life had grown almost unbearable.
And now that she had escaped, she would not be going back.
She shook her head. Today, she would not think of the past. Today, her future was looking bright. MacKenzie—or, more formally, the Marquess of Morven—was the highest ranked gentleman she had ever been asked to help enter polite society. Yes, she was a little nervous about the three-week deadline, but she could do it. Shemustdo it, if she wanted to be paid.
Selina was seated on a chair, watching her with interest and waiting for her instructions. Whenever there was a new client, Penelope liked to plan her training schedule, and Selina had been a wonderful support since Penelope had thrown herself into this new venture. If, sometimes, she bemoaned the fact that Penelope was still single then it was best to ignore her. Some people were not designed for marriage and a happy ever after, and Penelope concluded she was one of them.
She picked at a slice of cake as she considered her next step. “I think we should start tomorrow with the formalities around the serving and the eating of a meal. What do you think?”
