“What is wrong with me wanting to know where you go?”
“I do not want to have to ask permission for anything I do.”
“Nor would you need to…unless…well…you wanted to holiday on the Continent.”
“You just said that I should tell you where I am going,” she argued.
“The same as I would tell you if I am off to Parliament or White’s or riding, or whatever my plans happen to be. I only ask that you do the same.”
She wouldn’t need to ask permission but Penelope would still need to tell him.
Was this a trick somehow?
“Why?”
“So, if something were to happen, either one of us would know where look. Or begin to look.”
She frowned. “Do things often happen to you?”
“No.” he blew out a heavy sigh. “But, if you recall, just last year Felding’s sister-in-law was attacked by a woman with a knife in the middle of the day. We never know who may be about set to do harm.”
“I suppose you are correct.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Are you certain your reasons are not because you would want to control me.”
“I am fairly certain that if I even attempted to tell you what you could and could not do, it would not go well for me. And why would I? You would be angry, thus would make me miserable. I would rather you were happy.”
“Being a spinster is what makes me happy.”
“Does it truly?”
It had, until she had spent more time with His Grace.
“It does not matter because despite your conversation with my brother, I have received no proposal.”
“If that were to come?” he asked quietly.
Penelope swallowed against the lump in her throat. She had not expected such a question and was not certain she could not answer. She wanted to say that it would be rejected, but her heart warmed at the very idea.
Except, she had promised herself that she would not marry without love and even if she had fallen in love with Eldridge, any proposal he made would be out of duty and she could not be in a marriage where the love was one sided.
“I told you yesterday that your solution should not be a proposal. I do not expect to receive one, therefore I do not need to answer your question.” With that, she turned on her heel and marched from the house with no intention of returning until the ball.
Chapter 22
Henry stared at Penelope’s back as he followed her down the corridor and watched as she strode from his home before he returned to the library. She had not truly answered his question—if she was truly happy being a spinster—which meant that she was not.
Had his kiss perhaps changed her mind?
No. As much as he may pride himself in the art of seduction, Lady Penelope would not succumb to his charms so easily.
However, that was not the question that concerned him. As soon as he asked what her answer would be if a proposal was to come, she frowned as sadness filled her green eyes.
Nor had she answered that question either. Yet, she stood there, stared into his eyes as if she were trying to see his soul, then refused to answer and left.
What had that been about?
And why would the prospect of marrying him make her sad.
The thought that he was so objectionable, even after the passionate kiss, pained him. So much so that his heart ached, the likes he had never experienced before.
