Lucy grasped her arms the moment they were seated and leaned forward, curiosity and excitement gleaming in her eyes. “What on earth is going on? I saw you go in there with His Grace…”
“Hush!” Penny cut in, tearing her eyes from Phillip, certain her face must be an alarming shade of red by now. “Not now. I will explain later, but you must be quiet about this.”
“Well, what happened to your hair then? It’s all messy and…” Her eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Lord! You didn’t!”
Penny groaned, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. “Lucy…please…not here.” This was possibly the worst evening she had ever had: first, her indiscretion with the Duke and now this…She knew Lucy would never let the matter be, not until she had extracted every morsel of information about this dreadful encounter. Dear God, why was this happening to her?
Lucy giggled but nodded nonetheless, a mischievous expression on her face. “Oh my goodness, I declare this is the most interesting evening.”
“Lucy?” Penny muttered, casting a look back towards the maze, but he had moved away. She sighed and rubbed her aching temple. He always managed to ruin an evening for her by his mere presence. Turning back to the table, she caught Lord Westbrooke’s knowing amused gaze on her. She blushed again and dropped her gaze to the white table cloth. This was simply dreadful.
“I wonder where the Duke could be,” Jane murmured from her seat beside Penny. Penny turned to her, just in time to see her exchange a tender look with Edward. He smiled at her, his feeling for her so obvious; Penny’s heart sank.
A footman appeared at Lord Westbrooke’s elbow and murmured something. Henry nodded and rose to address the small group. “My mother wishes us to join her. I believe she wishes to meet Miss Inglewood.”
“Of course.” Penny laid down her napkin and rose, grateful to have a diversion. “I would like to meet her as well.”
***
The petite, fair-haired woman majestically established in a wrought iron seat placed at the centre of the lawn whom Henry introduced as the Dowager Countess looked nothing like how Penny had imagined her to be. She still looked beautiful and even younger than her real age of fifty-five. Lady Westbrooke was surrounded by a small group of guests, but they all politely stepped, watching with curious gazes as Penny, Lucy and Edward, led by Henry joined the group.
Penny swept into a deep curtsy, wincing as her leg protested the posture, conscious of the older woman’s intense study of her person. When she rose again, the Countess smiled at her and patted the empty seat by her side.
“I must commend you, Miss Inglewood,” Lady Westbrooke said kindly as Penny took the offered seat gratefully. She looked up at Lucy and beamed. “You have done an excellent job in raising Miss Lucy. I can only begin to imagine how much effort you put into this, and your sister is such a delight!”
Penny smiled gratefully and nodded. “She is indeed, but that is because Lucy is of a merry disposition. I cannot take credit for that, my lady.”
“Posh! You are too humble.” The Countess waved away the comment perilously. “I have raised a daughter, and I know how one must be blessed with endless degrees of patience especially when they are of a certain age. And to do it when you are so young. That is an achievement of the most splendid proportions.”
Penny smiled, already warming to Lady Westbrooke. It was heart-warming to be appreciated in this manner by an esteemed lady of the peerage. “Thank you, my lady. I am grateful for the compliment.”
“Oh, it is not a compliment, merely a fact. And now, we will dispense of this ‘my lady’ nonsense. You are to call me Bridget, and I shall address you as Penelope…That is quite a mouthful. How do you manage?” This invoked cheerful laughter among the little group gathered
around. Lord Westbrooke shook his head at his mother in exasperation. “Mother, honestly…” He began in protest, but Penny hastened to
reassure him she was not offended by the Countess’s words.
“It is not a bother at all, my lord.” She smiled up at him then turned back to the grinning countess. “Yes indeed. It is quite tiring to be called Penelope the entire time, so I prefer Penny.”
“Ah! Now that is much better.” Bridget leaned over to pat her arm in approval. Her gaze shifted to focus on something above Penny’s head, her smile widening even more. “Phillip! My dear duke! How delightful to see you here.”
Penny stiffened and felt a blush creep up her cheeks at the mention of his name. She hadn’t still quite fully recovered from their clandestine encounter, and she surely wished he would just stay away till she had regained some modicum of self-control. She heard the crunch of his boots as he came up behind her. She could feel the heat from his body so close to hers. She looked down and pretended studied interest in the perfectly trimmed grass.
Phillip came around to stand before the Countess, taking her outstretched hand and pressing a kiss upon it. “Felicitations, my lady, and might I say you look entirely resplendent today.”
The Countess laughed. “Oh, you unrepentant flatterer! Where have you been by the way? I heard you had arrived earlier.”
He chuckled, looking down at Penny who was still earnestly studying the ground as though her life depended upon acquiring some sort of knowledge. “I was diverted by a guest. My apologies.”
Henry guffawed but quickly turned the sound into a cough when Phillip shot him a withering glare. Penny groaned and shut her eyes, hoping that by some miracle, she would magically reappear in the sanctuary of her bedroom, the night turning out to be nothing but a bad dream.
Mercifully, the Dowager Countess, Jane, and Edward remained oblivious to the undercurrents floating beneath the surface. The Countess turned her attention back to Lucy and began to quiz her on her interests while Penny remained silent, steadfastly studying the ground. She could feel Phillip’s gaze boring down on her head, but she dared not meet his eyes. Jane moved close to him and lightly touched his arm to gain attention.
“We wondered where you had gone off to,” Jane said softly. “We were on the verge of sending out a search party.”
Phillip looked at her, his lips twisting in disdain. “Is that so?” She looked down at her hands, a guilty flush suffusing her fair
complexion. “Yes,” she mumbled so softly he could barely hear her response. He paid her no heed and shifted his gaze to Edward,
“Mr. Inglewood, I trust you found the maze quite…entertaining?” he drawled coldly, his eyes piercing and frosty.
Penny’s head shot up in alarm, looking quickly to Edward in time to see his face register shock, then guilt. He thrust his hands into the pocket of his dinner jacket and shot a quick glance at Jane, before coming back to rest on the Duke, now filled with defiance.
“Depends on what you refer to as entertaining, Your Grace.” he replied, his cold voice matching the Duke’s.
Jane gasped and looked at Edward pleading silently. Phillip raised a brow in mild surprise at the lad’s haughty tone, and he smiled even as his eyes turned ice blue in fury.
“I had no idea you needed any further education, but I will happily oblige you with a quick lesson if that is what you prefer.”
Realizing the real challenge behind the Duke’s words, Penny rose and hastily slipped an arm through Edward’s. He turned to her, and she silently pleaded with him to refrain from offering a scathing rejoinder. It would not do to arouse interest, certainly not in front of the Countess, who would certainly disapprove of any match between her son and Lucy if the truth were discovered. Thankfully, he seemed to understand, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
“No, Your Grace,” he replied quietly. “I consider myself suitably educated.”
“Good. Let us hope you keep it that way,” Phillip replied and turned away abruptly. The three watched him lean down and murmur something to the Countess, who promptly protested.
“Leave? But we have hardly begun the festivities.” Lady Westbrooke stared at him in surprise. “Come now. I shall be highly offended if you leave.”
“There are matters that need my urgent attention, my lady,” the Duke replied. “I apologize if my departure does not please you.”
The Countess pursed her lips, assuming a stubborn countenance that Henry knew so well. “I won’t have it, Newbridge. I insist you stay for dinner at least.” She held up a hand when he made to disagree once more. “It is intolerably ill-mannered of you to leave when I have so nicely asked you to stay.”
Phillip’s mouth twisted in a wry grin; he had forgotten how stubborn the woman was. “Very well, till dinner then.”
She bestowed a cheerful smile upon him and raised a white, wrinkled hand, each finger adorned with huge jewels, and patted his cheek,
chuckling when he looked highly offended by the gesture. “You were always such a dear boy, Phillip. Such a shame you insist on building quite an evil reputation.”
Lucy pressed a hand to her mouth in a futile effort to stifle the mirth that bubbled up as the Duke cast the Countess an irritated look. Phillip looked ready to offer up a scathing retort, but Henry stepped in smoothly.
“Now, mother, that is no way to address a duke.” He laid an arm on his mother’s shoulders, shaking his head in reprimand.
“I simply spoke the truth! And what do I care if he is a duke or not?” Bridget frowned up at her son. “I believe Phillip can speak for himself in any case, and he hasn’t offered up any protests.”
Phillip stared at the woman, wondering why he had gotten himself entangled in this, all for the sake of seeing a green-eyed shrew who did not quite know how to control her mouth, though that mouth tasted heavenly kissing him back, so soft, so sweet, and so innocently giving. He had lost control and had been mere seconds away from lowering her to the soft grass and making love to her if she had not wisely stopped the kiss. He had almost doubted his senses when he’d first seen her wearing that particularly lovely gown that accentuated her curves, the gentle swell of her perfect bosom and that waist—good God, from the moment he’d seen her tonight, he’d wanted to sweep her away and do pleasantly terrible things to her.
He turned slightly so he could stare at her without arousing suspicion; she was engrossed in conversation with her brother, that ill-mannered whelp. He would deal with the lad later, teach him a few lessons in keeping to one’s boundaries, as a matter of fact.
A tap on his shoulder drew him from his thoughts. “I wish to have a word with you?” Henry murmured.
Curious, Phillip nodded in return and followed the Earl towards a small grassy lawn overlooking the bubbling stream. A number of guests were idly strolling along its length, but it was not so crowded and ensured
a modicum of privacy. Henry stopped at the water’s edge and turned to face Phillip.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he demanded angrily, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at his friend.
Surprised at the verbal attack, Phillip could only raise an eyebrow in query. “I beg your pardon?” he replied, wondering what had gotten his friend so riled up now.
“Are you trying to ruin Miss Inglewood?” Henry ground out, “What the devil were you thinking, accompanying her into the maze? And seeing the state in which she emerged, I can only imagine what else you got up to in there. Do you even realize how close the both of you came to creating a scandal of the worst kind? If someone had even seen you go in with her…”
“She would have gotten lost in there if I hadn’t offered to accompany her,” Phillip cut in coldly, “and I have no intention of besmirching Miss Inglewood’s honour in any form. I would also advise you to keep your damn assumptions and opinions to yourself, Westbrooke.”
Henry growled and took a step towards the Duke. “She is not like the others whom you have entangled with. If you compromise her reputation, it will destroy her and her family. Why the bloody hell would you even suggest going into the maze in the first place?”
“I do not have to explain my actions to you,” Phillip snarled. “I do not question yours.”
“Perhaps, but Miss Inglewood is soon to become my responsibility, and believe me, if you dare hurt her in any way, I swear to God I will ensure you regret it. Do the right thing, Duke. It is obvious you do not care for Miss Rosebury. Release her from the contract and be honourable for once in your damned life.” With those words, Henry spun about and returned to the group, leaving Phillip seething in anger at being told what to do.