Jennie clasped her hands. “Oh, that is good news!”
Callum gave her a curious look. “What do you meanwith her reputation, Aunt Jennie?”
His aunt looked surprised. “I thought you knew, but of course, how could you?” She laughed a little nervously. “Penelope Armstrong was the mistress of Lord Muir, until he died three years ago. She was never vulgar, you must not think that. She was brought up as a lady. I’m not sure why she decided to accept his lordship’s indecent proposal, but she did. After he died, I believe she had plenty of similar offers, but instead of accepting any of them, she decided to become a teacher of manners and etiquette.”
A wrinkle appeared between her brows. “People were a little dubious about her at first, and naturally there was some resistance amongst the more upright members of society, but she seems to have won over all but the most moral of them. Although socially, she is not invited to go amongst any but the Bohemian set; she would not be welcome.”
He was surprised by the news, and yet it explained why she was teaching rather than mingling. Callum tried to picture Penelope Armstrong as some gentleman’s mistress and found it made him twitchy. He reminded himself that he had wanted to know about her past, to understand her, but now he asked himself what had led such a beautiful and sophisticated woman to agree to be some man’s mistress. And then to reject all the offers that came after he died. Did that mean he had been the love of her life?
Callum’s spirits sank.
“But you do like her?” Jennie was eyeing him consideringly.
“She is very...” He changed his mind about waxing lyrical about her and stuck with a plain, “Yes, Aunt Jennie, I like her.”
But Jennie must have heard something in his voice because her eyes narrowed and she asked, “Whatisher appearance? I have never met her, and I am curious.”
Callum chose his words carefully. “She is about my age, I would guess, although she has the manner of someone older. Her hair is fair, very pale, and her eyes are almost silver. She reminds me of the fairytales my father sometimes tells.” He smiled. “The sort of tales where the otherworldly creature puts a spell on the mortal, and he pines away with love for her.”
He must have gone too far because Jennie looked alarmed. “Well, that sounds a little concerning. Be careful she does not put a spell on you, Callum. Your mother would never forgive me.”
Callum laughed. “Don’t worry. I am too canny for that.”
Jennie didn’t look entirely convinced, but she moved the subject on. “I have heard her fees are quite steep. What is she asking?”
Callum had thought that most London ladies thought it vulgar to discuss anything to do with money, but his aunt was a shrewd Scotswoman. When he told her, she seemed taken aback for a moment and then she took a breath and said, “Well, I suppose she can charge whatever she likes after the Hanbury sisters. The change in them was remarkable.”
Callum suddenly felt guilty. His aunt had offered to pay the fee as it was she who made the appointment. “Are you sure you can afford such a sum, Aunt Jennie? I can write to Father and ask him—”
“No, don’t do that. I can afford it. Strathmore’s shipping business has been very lucrative of late. And with no children of my own, I am more than happy to spend my money on my sister’s brood.”
Jennie had always been kind and generous, and they all loved her. Callum smiled warmly back. “Then thank you. I promise you it will be money well spent. In three weeks, when you hold the ball, you will not know me.”
“I hope it is not as drastic as that,” she said. “Remember, I love you as you are, nephew. But with just a wee bit of polish, you will be irresistible to all the ladies.”
Would he? Callum found himself hoping he would be irresistible to Penelope Armstrong. He sensed that beneath that cool, well-mannered exterior was a woman with hidden depths, and he was eager to plumb them.
Chapter Five
It was thefollowing day, and Selina had served the meal. Although Callum had partaken of his usual hearty breakfast only three hours ago, he had no trouble sitting down and eating again. Penelope was seated opposite him, watching closely as her maid delivered and removed plates when necessary.
“You might consider a smaller serving, MacKenzie,” Penelope said, her silver eyes narrowed as he ladled more soup into his dish.
“What if I am hungry?”
“Then eat something before you leave your house. You don’t want to be thought greedy.”
“A greedy Highland barbarian,” Callum muttered. “How is this helping me find a well-bred wife?”
“You might find a wife whatever your manners, but if you want one with intelligence and breeding, who is good company and will do you proud as your future duchess, then you need to listen and learn.”
There was nothing he could say to that.
“Selina, bring the raspberry syllabub.”
A delicate dish was set before him, with the addition of a tiny dessert spoon. Callum picked up the spoon. It was lost in his great paw and he fumbled a moment, finding it necessary to hold it with the tips of his fingers and then take a heaped spoonful of the syllabub and bring it to his lips. It fell off, sliding down hisclean shirt in a splodge of raspberry red. He jumped up with a curse and tried to wipe it off with his napkin, only to make the mess on the white linen worse.
Behind him, Selina made a sound that could have been a laugh, but when he turned to glare at her, her face was expressionless.
