Penny studied the letter she had written once more, twirling the quill between her finger tips as she read. Finally satisfied that all was in order, she folded it carefully and rang for a maid. While she waited, she crossed to the window, breathing in the cool morning air.
A knock announced the arrival of the maid, and she handed her the letter. “Please make sure this is delivered to the Duke of Newbridge’s residence before noon.”
The maid bobbed a curtsy and left. Penny smiled to herself. Knowing Phillip, he would probably come anyway, completely disregarding her letter, but there was no way on earth she would be persuaded into meeting him. No doubt, he simply wished to continue tormenting her as he was wont to do. She sighed and turned from the window to dress, deciding to break her fast early and go for a walk. At this hour, the park would be deserted, ensuring the solitude she craved.
She was startled when she entered the dining room to find Lady Westbrooke already awake and sipping at a cup of tea, studying a list. The Countess looked up and offered her welcoming smile.
“Ah! I see you too have chosen to rise early today,” Lady Westbrooke said, taking a sip from the steaming cup she held in one hand. “Did you have a good night, my dear?”
Penny returned the smile, drawing out a chair next to the Countess. “I had a good night. Thank you, Bridget. I always rise early. Force of habit, I suppose.”
“I have hardly gotten any sleep,” Bridget announced, waving the paper she held in her hand. “See this? This is a list of the guests I have invited to the wedding. I want to make sure I have not left out anyone of importance, for that would be a faux pas indeed. Can you imagine the horror that would ensue if we left out a baron or even—heaven forbid—a duke?”
Penny poured herself a cup of tea from the fresh pot a maid had just placed on the table, adding a teaspoon of sugar. “You are inviting every member of the ton? Surely that would be too much for a simple wedding affair.”
Bridget snorted. “It is considered etiquette to send out an invitation to everyone. Then, of course, a fair number of them would decline for one reason or the other…perhaps due to a previous engagement, but they will be terribly offended if one did not invite them in the first place. The earldom is one of the oldest titles in England, so to be invited is an extreme honour.”
“I see. Would you like some help? I confess I am not as well-versed in the members of the nobility, but I can find some almanacs that will be sure to carry the names.”
The Countess beamed at her, pleased at the offer. “That is a splendid idea! I wonder I have not even thought of it before. There is one such almanac in the library, I believe, though I am not certain if it is a recent publication.”
“I will have a look at it as soon as I finish eating,” Penny replied, biting into a hot buttered scone.
“Surely you have something else to occupy your time other than looking through dusty old tomes. I can easily have a servant do that, my dear.”
“I have made no pressing plans for the day.” Penny hastened to assure her friend. “It will give me something with which to engage myself.”
***
An hour later, she was ensconced in the library, checking off names from the invitation list against those in the voluminous almanac when Lucy burst in nearly tripping in her apparent excitement, carrying an enormous bouquet of roses. Jane followed more sedately behind.
“Look, Penny! You have got flowers.” Lucy squealed, setting the bouquet on the mahogany table, the scent of the roses filling the room with a pleasant odour. “Aren’t these the most adorable roses you have ever seen? Someone is smitten, dear sister.”
Penny stared at the bouquet in surprise. She had never gotten flowers before, certainly not after a ball. “Who are they from?” she asked, rising from the high-backed chair to touch a delicate bloom. The roses were exquisite, and she sniffed at the fragrance appreciatively. Could Alasdair have sent them? she wondered, searching for the envelope that had surely come with the gift. She found it still tied to the piece of string that held the bouquet together, her fingers trembling with excitement.
“We were hoping you would tell us.” Jane laughed, perching on the corner of the table eagerly. “Lucy seems to think they are from Newbridge, but I don’t think so. I believe it is Mr. Lachlan who sent them. Phillip would never send anyone flowers.”
Penny stared at the envelope, even as she listened to the two girls argue about the sender. It had to be Alasdair, she surmised, studying the plain white card. Jane was right; Phillip would never send her flowers, and besides, the envelope did not carry any seal.
“Well, open it already!” Lucy demanded, dancing from one leg to the other in excitement. “Aren’t you dying to know who sent them?”
Penny smiled at her sister and carefully pried open the cover, extracting the gold embossed card within. Her pulse raced as she stared at the words written on the card.
Be ready at noon. P
Her hands shook as she read the words over and over again, even as her mind refused to absorb the reality of what she read. Had Phillip sent her the flowers? There must be some sort of mistake. He was far too arrogant to do anything other than to order her about and expect her to jump to do his bidding every time. Of course, he had completely disregarded her letter as expected, but never in a million years had she thought he would do something so blatantly out of character.
She started in surprise when Jane snatched the card from her hand, coming back to reality with a start. She watched as Jane read the contents and opened her mouth in shock.
“Oh my goodness! He actually sent you flowers?” The girl stared at Penny in astonishment, while Lucy let out a triumphant crow.
“Hah! I knew it was him!” Lucy shrieked, snatching the card from Jane’s limp fingers. “Oh, this so exciting. It’s just like a romance novel. He is being such a romantic hero.”
“No, it’s not. Phillip is as far removed from being some sort of romantic hero,” Penny pointed out, picking a single rose from the bunch and holding it to her nose, the sweet scent filling her nostrils, drawing a wistful smile to play across her lips. How had he known white roses were her favourite? She could not recall ever mentioning it to him, or was it a mere coincidence?
Jane plucked another rose, inhaling as Penny had done, then frowned in puzzlement. “These must be freshly picked just this morning. There is not even the slightest sign of wilting.”
“What do you intend to wear for your outing?” Lucy asked. Penny shrugged and replaced the stem. “I am not going.”
Lucy and Jane gaped at her in astonishment. “What do you mean you are not going?” Lucy demanded, planting her hands on her hips, glaring at Penny in indignation. “Have you gone mad?”
Jane’s face was shadowed with worry. “I would not advise thwarting the Duke's wishes Penny. You know how ill-tempered he can get.”
Penny’s eyes flashed in defiance. “He cannot order me around. I am not afraid of him at all.”
Lucy wagged her finger at Penny in reprimand. “He sent you flowers like a perfect gentleman. Surely you will honour his invitation?”
“It was not an invitation,” Penny replied, taking her seat once more and picking up the list. “The Duke of Newbridge does not invite. He summons and demands. Besides, I promised Bridget I would finish the list today.”
Lucy glared at Penny for a moment then spun around and stalked from the room in a huff. Jane lingered for a moment, idly tracing a finger around the smooth corner of the desk. “Perhaps you should give him a chance to say what he wants,” she said, her voice tentative. “Talk to him, Penny. He seems…different when in your company…softer somehow. Consider it please?”
As the door closed behind Jane, Penny shut her eyes and sighed, rubbing at her aching temple, indecision gnawing at her.
***
A knock on the heavy door of the library broke her concentration. She looked up from her notes and frowned. “Come in,” she called out, shutting the almanac and rubbing at a crick in her neck, wincing at the stiffness of her muscles from sitting in one position for too long. How long had it been since the girls had left? she wondered as the door opened.
Sally, the parlour maid, peered inside with an apologetic look. “Pardon me, Miss, but Lady Westbrooke sent me to inform you that the duke of Newbridge wishes to see you. He is waiting in the drawing room.” Penny was startled. “Is it noon already?” She rose and crossed to the east window, pulling aside the drapes, wincing as a flood of sunlight
poured through the window, lighting up the dim library.
No wonder she had been oblivious to time’s passing, she observed thoughtfully, turning away from the window. Her gaze fell on the bouquet,
now safely in a glass jar filled with water, and she grimaced. Phillip would not accept her refusal to go out with him without some sort of argument; she could bet her non-existent fortune on that, but she had to prove to him that she was not a toy to be trifled with at his whim. Otherwise, he would continue to torment her state of mind.
“Miss?” The maid looked askance at her.
Penny shook herself to reality. “Yes, I will be down in a minute. I just need to replace these books.” She began to gather up a sheaf of papers and the almanac, but the maid hurried to take them from her.
“I can do that, Miss. Not to worry.”
She smiled at Sally and moved aside to allow the girl to clear up. “Thank you, Sally.” Those words elicited a surprised smile and a blush of pleasure from the maid, and Penny surmised the girl must not often get thanked for her efforts.
***
Phillip turned from the window when she entered the room, his smile disappearing when he noticed what she was wearing. “You are not dressed,” he scowled at her, crossing the room to stand before her, his demeanour forbidding. “I asked that you be ready at noon. Why are you not ready yet?”
Penny refused to let herself be intimidated. She thrust her shoulders back and stared at him in defiance.
“I told you, I do not want to go anywhere with you,” she calmly replied, even though her pulse raced faster than a speeding carriage. “I even sent you a note to that effect this morning.”
He looked particularly handsome today. As usual, his clothes had been chosen with impeccable taste. The dark blue coat contrasted nicely with the icy blue of his eyes, and his broad shoulders looked even more impressive beneath the exquisitely tailored garment. He had let his hair grow unheeded, and now it curled just past his neck, barely brushing his shoulders. In her faded yellow morning gown, Penny suddenly felt drab, and she wished she had taken the time to change.
The look Phillip levelled at her could freeze an elephant. “Indeed, you did. That cryptic note politely informing me you had been unable to find a chaperone? You are a terrible liar, Miss Inglewood.”
She blushed, a bright red, suddenly wishing she had not sent that damned note after all. “It is hardly a lie, Your Grace,” she retorted sharply to cover her mortification. “Who could I ask to accompany me after all? Lucy is seventeen and busy with her wedding plans, and you certainly do not expect me to ask your ex-fiancée now, do you?”
Phillip surprised her by chuckling in amusement. “You are quite the little schemer, aren’t you?” He moved even closer, robbing her of the ability to breathe by his nearness, his eyes filled with a sudden mischief. He placed a hand beneath her chin, lifting her face to his, even as his head lowered till it was mere inches from hers. “I like how stubborn you get sometimes…Your eyes turn a most delightful shade of green, and you thrust your shoulders back as though offering me your breasts…”
Penny jerked away from his touch, glaring daggers at him. How dare he speak to her in such an uncouth manner? “You are the most ill-mannered creature I have ever had the misfortune to come across,” she declared. “Now, I will never go anywhere with you even if you offered me a fortune in gold.”
He sobered immediately, and once more, she was shocked to see him genuinely remorseful. “I apologize, Miss Inglewood. I was out of line to say such things.”
Penny’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. Was Phillip actually apologizing? She searched her mind for an appropriate response but could not come up with anything. She was accustomed to his rude, obnoxious nature, but Newbridge actually apologizing was a surprise.
He grinned, the action giving him a rakish look. “Go put on something appropriate, Miss Inglewood. I give you my word: I will be on my best behaviour.”
“But I don’t have a chaperone!” she protested.
“Oh, I have taken care of that.”
She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “What are you talking about? I don’t…”
Phillip’s eyes glittered. “Just go and get ready, Miss Inglewood. You are going with me even if I have to carry you out over my shoulder.” Angered at his imperious tone, Penny crossed her arms across her bosom and shook her head stubbornly. “I do not want to go with you. Your
threats have no effect, so you can bark all you want. Good day, Newbridge.” She spun to stalk out the room, but he detained her with a hand on her arm.
“Are you afraid to be with me?” he asked, his gaze boring into hers in challenge. “Perhaps you are worried an hour in my company will loosen your inhibitions enough and fall into bed with me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Penny jerked her arm from his grasp, her hackles raised at his challenge. “I am not afraid to be with you.”
He folded his arms across his chest with a satisfied smirk. “Then there should be no problem.”
Penny debated his words for a minute, torn between a need for self-preservation and the need to prove him wrong. If she refused to go with him, it would only feed his ridiculous assumptions, and he would be even more insufferable. Finally, she sighed. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
***
“I took the liberty of procuring a chaperone for today,” Phillip informed Penny as he helped her from the carriage. He studied the simple but elegant lavender gown that displayed her figure to perfection, the colour setting off her ivory skin and green eyes and nodded in approval. “You look stunning.”
Penny blushed in pleasure, grateful once more to the countess for giving her the dress.
“Thank you,” she replied. Her gaze swept over the busy London street, wondering what Phillip had in mind for the afternoon. She had assumed they would go for a walk, but it appeared he had different plans.
And what was this about a chaperone? “You brought along a chaperone? Who is it?”
Phillip offered her his arm, and she slipped her gloved hand through his. “My aunt, Lady Farnsworth. She will be waiting for us at the tea shop.”
“I did not know you had an aunt,” Penny replied, staring up at him in surprise. “We are going to a tea shop?”
“Yes and yes.” Phillip grinned down at her, the action sending warm shivers down Penny’s spine. “I told you we needed to talk, and we might as well fill our stomach while we discuss.” He let go of her arm for a moment to pull open the door to the tea shop, allowing her to proceed him inside.
Penny’s nostrils were hit with the pleasant aroma of pastries and tea, causing her mouth to water. She glanced around the room, taking in the elegant décor. There were a few customers having tea, as elegant as the establishment itself. Her eyes fell on a table at the far end of the room with only one occupant, a middle-aged woman dressed in black who was smiling in their direction, and Penny assumed her to be the aunt Phillip mentioned.
Her assumption was confirmed as Phillip gently steered her towards the table and made the introductions. “Miss Inglewood, may I present my dear aunt, Lady Elise Farnsworth. Aunt Elise, meet Miss Penelope Inglewood. She is the one you will be chaperoning today.”
Aunt Elise beamed up at them, blue eyes so like Phillip’s twinkling merrily. “Phillip never mentioned how lovely you are, my dear. Now I understand why he has been so bad-tempered of late.”
Penny smiled in genuine delight and curtsied, already warming to her. “He is always bad-tempered. It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady. Thank you for being here.”
“I am not bad-tempered,” Phillip said, pulling out a chair for Penny to sit, then taking his own, opening the monogrammed menu to study it. A waitress already hovered near, waiting to take their orders. “I
merely choose to be blunt and speak my mind. What will you have, Miss Inglewood?”
Penny picked up her own menu and studied it. Her eyes nearly popped as she noted the extravagant prices listed alongside the menu options. Who in their right mind paid fifteen shillings for a mere pot of tea? She glanced at Phillip then shrugged. Obviously, he was mad.
Aunt Elise placed a wrinkled hand on her arm. Penny looked up from studying the menu and looked at her askance. “You should try the buttered roll, dear. They are simply marvellous.”
“Oh. Then I’ll have that and some tea,” Penny said to the waitress. “Thank you.”
Phillip placed his order and leaned back against his seat, studying Penny intently for a moment. “Did you get the flowers?” he asked, idly drumming his fingers on the lace tablecloth.
“Yes, I did. They are very lovely.”
“I asked him to send them,” Lady Farnsworth pointed out. “A proper gentleman should be thoughtful enough to send a lady some flowers. Especially when he seeks to court her, isn’t that so?”
“I am not courting her.” Phillip looked distinctly uncomfortable and frowned at his aunt. “We are having a polite conversation for once. That is all.”
“Whatever you say, dear.” Lady Elise gave Penny a conspiratorial wink. “Isn’t it delightful when gentlemen are too stubborn to admit their true feelings? His father was much the same way as well as my husband, his uncle. Ah, yes, my husband practically kidnapped me and forced me to marry him. Good thing I did too.”
Phillip muttered something incomprehensible, glaring at his aunt in disapproval. “I have no plans to kidnap Miss Inglewood. Stop putting romantic ideas in her head.”
Penny watched the banter between aunt and nephew, fascinated at the little insight into Phillip’s history. She realized that she knew next to nothing about him, and it pleased her to see another side of him. Nevertheless, she felt obligated to clear his aunt’s misconception that he
was courting her. “He is not courting me. We are merely…two people having lunch.”
Lady Farnsworth snorted in disbelief. “If you believe that, I’ll eat my hat.”
Their food arrived, much to Penny’s relief. She liked Lady Farnsworth, but she certainly had no wish to indulge in childish fantasies. After all, Phillip himself had refuted any claims to courtship. Thankfully, his aunt was content to let the matter drop and engaged Penny in lively gossip about members of the ton, while Phillip listened, only speaking when his aunt asked for his opinion, though his eyes remained fixed on Penny, keeping her highly aware of him.
He bought her flavoured ice after lunch, a treat Penny savoured in pure delight, never having had such before. By the time the carriage pulled up in front of the Westbrooke residence, the sun had begun to set, and Penny felt a pang of regret that the outing was over. He remained courteous, helping her down from the carriage and walking with her to the front door.
“Thank you for a delightful day, Your Grace.” She smiled up at him, her eyes glowing with pleasure. “I had a marvellous time, and please extend my gratitude to Lady Elise?”
He reached for her hand and placed a soft kiss on it, sending tingles running down her spine. “It is my pleasure, Miss Inglewood.”
Without thinking, she reached up to caress his chin, feeling the rough texture of his jaw beneath her fingers. She heard him catch his breath in surprise, eyes darkening at the pleasure of her touch a moment before he abruptly took a step back. “Good night, Penny. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
She watched him go, a part of her longing to call him back, jump into his arms and let him kiss her senseless, but the more reasonable part of her held back. At the door to the carriage, he paused and turned around, flashing her a grin and a salute before jumping into the vehicle.