Penelope frowned before she brightened. “Rosalind. They are distant cousins after all.” She lifted her glass and once again clinked it with Patience.
“Ah, a celebration of your pending nuptials. I feared that you making the correct decision would be more difficult.”
Penelope’s stomach tightened and she turned in her seat to face her brother.
“You are mistaken.” Then horror struck. “Please tell me that you did not harm Eldridge or do anything equally as stupid such as shoot him.”
Chapter 19
He needed a plan. The only problem, Henry could not think of one.
At least he had Felding’s blessing, in a manner of speaking, and it was preferable to a dawn appointment, but they both knew that trying to convince Penelope to give up her independence and become a wife would be nearly impossible.
“No wonder you have not wed, Cousin Henry. Like Lady Penelope, you fear giving up enjoyments and freedom,” Damaris offered with a laugh.
“That is not what I fear,” he retuned then focused on Lady Penelope. “I believe we share the same concern of making a poor match and becoming miserable but not realizing the mistake until it is too late.”
She stared back into his eyes, her green ones darkening.
They were in agreement.
Would she allow fear that they would not be happy to keep her from making the wise decision to become a duchess instead?
He snorted. Any other woman would jump at the chance to gain such a title. He wasn’t so arrogant that he was the reason a woman would marry him, but many coveted that chance to be addressed as Her Grace and enjoy the power that came with it.
Which was another thing that he admired about Penelope.
Yes, she showed him deference to his title when they were in Society, but she also treated him no differently than anyone else and she certainly would not sell her soul to become a duchess.
At least when she married him, if she married him, it was because she wanted to be his wife and not to gain a title.
It was a small comfort but one still the same.
Yet, he still had no idea how to convince her to become his wife.
“I do not understand you, Eldridge.”
Henry glanced up from where he was brooding behind his desk to find the Duke of Claybrook.
“What is there to understand?” Why was he even here?
“You send a panicked missive, using the seal of the Alliance, because of a minor upset to your household. Yet, you ruin a lady and you did not send for me or anyone else.” He strolled to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. “This is one of the very reasons the Alliance was created. To help manage such difficulties.”
Difficulty?
Henry nearly snorted. The situation was not so minor.
“How could you or anyone else possibly manage this?” he finally asked.
“Yes, well, we have enough power amongst us that with whispers in the right ears, Lady Penelope being in your carriage could be framed as simply an error in judgement on both your parts. You just could not allow her to return home, at night, after leaving Athen’s Salon, alone, because it would be too dangerous.”
“If that was all, it would be far simpler to ignore the gossips.”
“True and you did kiss her, rather passionately from what I understand, but that is where we can help.”
“How?”
“We put it out that you had forgotten yourself, being the former rake that you once were, and kissed her, but what the five men failed to witness after the kiss and as they walked on was her soundly slapping you, and maybe she had cutting words as well, before she exited your carriage. The fact that she did not return to your home today to have tea with your cousins would be evidence that she now holds you in contempt for your attempted seduction and that she had been wronged, not ruined.”
