“My Lord, I meant no offense,” she said, her voice firm even as her desire to dig a hole in the ground to curl up in and hide grew increasingly strong with each second. “But how can I not wonder when you go to such lengths to see me outside of the rules of proper decorum, but have yet to indicate a desire to present yourself to my family as a serious suitor?”
His nostrils flared, and she feared she had pushed him too far. She had not only angered him, but cut at his pride. It was too late to take back her words, however, and she still was desperate to know his reply. She would see if what there was between them was salvageable once he relayed his plans.
A deep breath rushed from his lips. “Miss Snowley, I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression of what I hope to be the nature of this relationship.” His tone was hard, but not as incensed as she might have expected. “My reasons for breaking certain rules of decorum with you were not because I seek to make you my mistress.”
Her heart fluttered with treacherous excitement. “Then what do you seek, My Lord?”
He shook his head. “If you are forced to ask, then I have indeed done a poor job of making my interests clear.” Gazing down at her, he trapped her with his breathtaking eyes. Penelope feared she could not have looked away even if she desired to. “I do not wish for you to merely be my mistress, Miss Snowley. I wish to court you with the intention of marriage if we reach a point of mutual agreement on the matter. Is that clear enough?”
Penelope could only stare at him in surprise and delight. No man had ever laid out his hopes and plans for her so openly before. She could not think of what to say in response.
It was then that she realized how closely he was leaning into her. His warm breath fanned across her cheek, and his scent wafted around her. He smelled of cigars and fresh rain, as well as a unique musk that was all his own. Her heart began to race, and her breaths grew short. That heat she was becoming so familiar with unfurled in her belly and began to spread, inching its way up her chest and down…
She took a hasty step back, shocked by her body’s response to him even though they were out in public where anyone might come across them. Sweet mercy, her mother could have turned her head and spotted them!
What is it about this gentleman that makes me so easily forget my sense of propriety?
“Miss Snowley, are you all right?” he asked for the second time, barely hiding his smug smirk.
Narrowing her eyes, Penelope pursed her lips in irritation. She hated that her desire for him was so obvious he could be haughty about it.
“You claim your wish is to court me,” she hissed. “Then why, pray tell, do you choose to go about things as you have? Why not present yourself to my family in order to receive their permission?”
She only then realized how much it meant to her for them to be open about their intentions with the rest of society. Penelope did not like feeling as though she were a secret he wished to hide.
Is he ashamed to want me for his bride?
Lord Romwich scratched his chin as he considered her questions.
“Miss Snowley, please understand that I chose to take a certain level of caution before formally seeking you out. Whatever lies between us is powerful, but it is sudden. I have been struggling with my desire to see you and claim you for my own as soon as humanly possible, and my more practical need to know you before forming any official connection between us. Does that make sense?”
“Not particularly,” she admitted with a small shrug.
His hand moved to rub at the back of his neck. “I was afraid of that. I fear I have a difficult time articulating my reasons for my actions with you to myself, and so I am at a loss as how to make our situation more transparent to you.”
A wrinkle appeared between his brows as he struggled to explain himself to her, and she found it strangely adorable. She could not help the small smile that tugged at her lips as she fought the urge to press her finger to his forehead and massage that wrinkle away.
“My Lord, perhaps it does not matter,” she murmured.
He frowned. “Perhaps what does not matter, Madam?”
“The steps that brought us to this point.” How she wished she could reach out and take his hand in hers, but she dared not with her mother so close. “Perhaps all that matters is where we go from here?”
“You would forgive me my forwardness?” he asked with a small chuckle.
“So long as you forgive me my misunderstanding of you character,” she replied, dropping her gaze from his as her cheeks heated with embarrassment once more.
“There is nothing to forgive. I have not made myself easy to understand in this situation, and so you cannot be blamed interpreting things as you did.”
She peeked up at him from under her lashes. “What do we do from here?”
His eyes shone with something that made her heart beat like a drum. “I suppose I will have to call on your father to make my intentions known and receive his permission to court you properly.”
Her hands moved to embrace him, but she caught herself and clasped her hands to her chest instead.
“When?” she whispered, her happiness making her breathless.
“Tomorrow, if he is free,” Lord Romwich promised. “I cannot go another day without seeing and speaking with you.”
“Nor I you, My Lord…”
The sound of the carriage jerking to life stole their attention away from each other. They both looked to see the vehicle rolling away and Lady Bienholm turning to rejoin them.
Her smile was broad as she approached. “Well now, that was a lovely visit. I have not seen Lady Carter in some time.” While her expression remained casually jovial, her eyes grew shrewd as they bounced between Penelope and Lord Romwich. Penelope wanted to sigh in exasperation and die of embarrassment at the same moment. There was little chance Lord Romwich missed her mother’s look, or the plotting going on behind it.
“I am glad you had the opportunity to catch up with your friend, My Lady,” Lord Romwich said with a charming smile. Turning his gaze back to Penelope, he spoke in a polite, yet formal tone. “It was a pleasure speaking with you, Miss Snowley. I hope we meet again soon.”
“Off so soon, My Lord?” her mother’s eyes went wide. “I hope my interlude in our visit did not put you off our company?”
Shaking his head, Lord Romwich assured her, “Not at all, My Lady. I am simply pressed for time to get to another appointment and must carry on at a less leisurely pace.”
“Oh, such a shame.” Lady Bienholm’s voice dripped with disappointment, and Penelope wanted to groan. “I do hope we are blessed with your presence again soon. Some social gathering, perhaps? Though I doubt our family runs in the same circles as yourself and the Duke and Duchess.”
“Did you and the Baron by chance receive an invitation to Lord Bagley’s ball next week?”
When her mother’s eyes lit up in exuberance, Penelope shot Lord Romwich a hopeful look.
“Indeed, we did! And we are so looking forward to it, are we not, my dear?” She glanced toward Penelope, nudging her slightly with her elbow.
“Oh, yes. Very much so,” she quickly said, careful to hide her true eagerness for the event from both her mother and Lord Romwich.
“Excellent! Then I will look forward to seeing you there,” he said. “If not before.”
With those last words, his eyes drifted quickly to Penelope before he bowed to her and her mother. She bit her lip and dropped into a curtsy, keeping her face lowered so as to hide her anticipation from her mother.
Straightening, Lord Romwich turned without another word and his long strides quickly ate up the distance of the path until he was completely out of sight.
“What a fine young gentleman,” her mother commented, sliding her gaze to Penelope. “How delightful that you two seem so well acquainted already. Did I not tell you your association with the Lady Dorothy would create new opportunities for you?”
Penelope could only nod her head in agreement, displaying
an outward polite interest that belied the chaos of emotions running through her.
He means to court me. He wants to speak with Papa tomorrow!
At the Bagley’s ball next week, they could remain close together without risk of scandal.
It was all coming together more perfectly than she could have dreamed. Now all that stood between her and Lord Romwich being together was the Baron. Would he be as pleased with his daughter’s new suitor as she hoped?
Chapter Thirteen
Dorothy wandered through the halls of the manor, quite bored from being cooped up due to the unpleasant weather. Even her beloved novels could not keep her attention for long this day. Her mind had been scattered ever since Miss Snowley’s visit. Her excitement at the prospect of meeting the lady’s brother, Mr. Snowley, was almost more than Dorothy could bear.
Would he be as dashing as the heroes he wrote? She knew he must be brilliant to be able to think up such swoon-worthy stories, but would he also be kind? Humorous? Handsome?
Oh, how she hoped he was handsome. Dorothy could admit to a level of shallowness within her character. She did not know that she could be as open-minded when it came to the hero of her personal story as the heroine in Mr. Snowley’s latest work. Miss Snowley had been very fair of face. Would her brother share her looks?
As she passed the large windows overlooking the back gardens, she heard footsteps approaching from behind. Distracted from her fanciful thoughts, she turned to find her brother moving toward her at an easy pace. He wore a triumphant smile and moved with a somewhat arrogant swagger.
“I take it your meeting with Miss Snowley went well?” she asked with a wry grin.
Coming to a stop in front of her, Andrew nodded his head. “Indeed, very well. Although, admittedly the beginning of our interaction was a bit rough.”
“How so?”
He chuckled softly. “To begin with, Lady Bienholm was her chaperone through the park.”
“Her mother?” Dorothy almost laughed at his ill luck. “Were you able to speak with the lady at all?”
“Luckily, a friend of Lady Bienholm’s drove by and distracted her. I was able to converse with her daughter in relative privacy.”
Such complicated schemes all to speak with one lady. Dorothy marveled at his dedication to Miss Snowley after so short a time.
“Well? What did you say to each other?”
A shadow of something she could not quite name crossed his face. Disappointment? Irritation? It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, however, and his easy smile returned.
“She demanded to know my intentions and was even bold enough to ask if I wished for her to be my mistress.”
Dorothy’s jaw dropped. “Miss Snowley? You are serious?”
Surely not. Miss Snowley was a pleasant enough lady, but almost too polite and demure to be entertaining. Unless she was speaking of her love of novels, that is. Dorothy could not picture the soft-spoken lady demanding an answer from her brother to such a scandalous question.
“Why on earth would she think you wanted her for such a role?”
Andrew released a deep sigh, and his expression turned sheepish. “I must admit I am guilty of confusing the poor lady with my actions. She believed I avoided the proper order of things because I was not serious about her.”
Dorothy groaned, shaking her head. “I told you the letter was too forward.”
He shrugged. “I can offer no excuse, other than my intense desire to see the lady again.”
Looking over her shoulder, Dorothy made sure there was no one about to hear her when she asked, “Did she perhaps indicate a time when I might meet her brother?”
Now it was Andrew’s turn to shake his head. “So eager, little sister. How unbecoming of a well-bred lady such as yourself.”
Dorothy rolled her eyes. “Oh, hush. Who are you to speak? Look at your behavior the past few days. You have been erratic, practically reeking of desperation to breath the same air as Miss Snowley once more.”
Crossing his arms, her brother narrowed his eyes at her. “I would suggest you speak to me with kinder words, My Lady. I may find myself too distracted by my damaged feelings to remember what it is I have to tell you of Mr. Snowley.”
“Oh! I apologize,” she hastily said. Her easy acquiescence of her unkindness must have surprised Andrew, if his widened gaze was any indication. She stepped toward him and laid a hand on his arm. “Please, what did you discover? When shall I meet Mr. Snowley?”
“I…I believe next week,” he stammered. “At the Bagleys’ ball.”
She gasped. “He will be in attendance?”
“I do not know for certain,” he clarified. “Miss Snowley and her mother let it be known that their family received an invitation. I would assume that if the Snowley ladies are present, the Snowley gentlemen will be as well.”
She stepped away from him, anticipation making her blood hum. Very possibly, she could be meeting the gentleman of her deepest fantasies. Clutching her fingers to her chest, she bounced up and down just as she did when she was excited as a child.
“Dorothy,” Andrew’s stern voice cut through the haze that had settled over her, blocking out all thoughts that did not revolve around Mr. Snowley. “Perhaps it is best to contain your excitement for the time being?”
Stopping her movements, she frowned up at him. “Whatever do you mean?”
He released a heavy sigh. “I think you should lower your expectations of the gentleman. You are building him up too much in your mind, and I do not wish for you to be hurt or disappointed if he does not live up to your dreams of him.”
Dorothy rested her hands on her hips as irritation flared within her. “You act as if I am a child unable to discern reality from fantasy. I am well aware that Mr. Snowley may fall short of my imaginings of him, brother. It does not make the prospect of meeting him any less thrilling.”
He still appeared ill at ease. “Please, Dorothy, just remember that he is flesh and blood and not some ridiculous character in a silly book.”
“Perhaps you should take the time to read one of those silly books,” she snapped. “You might actually learn something about what a lady truly desires. I pity Miss Snowley being pursued by such a daft fool as yourself.”
Turning on her heel, she stormed down the hall without looking back, even as he called her name. Why must he always be so nosy? Why did he always have to tell her what to do?
Why can he not see that I am no longer a child?
Frustration burned within her. She would show him. She would prove he was not always correct, and that his practical way of seeing things was not always the best way. At the Bagleys’ ball, she would meet Mr. Snowley, and he would prove as wonderful as she imagined. When her assumptions were shown to be correct, she would throw it in Andrew’s face with a haughty laugh.
He would see that she had been right, and be forced to admit to his shortcomings. Dorothy smirked as she imagined him contrite and apologetic in front of all their friends and family. What a pretty picture that made, indeed.
* * *
“Here again, Harry? Do you miss your childhood room so much that you cannot bear to go a day without visiting it?”
Harry glanced over his shoulder to find his sister standing in the doorway to his old bedroom. He rolled his eyes at her teasing.
“You had best watch your tone, sweet Penelope,” he threatened playfully. “I would hate for another frog to appear in your bed.”
He smirked when she visibly shuddered at the memory before stepping into the room with him.
“What are you doing in here, anyway?” she asked, gazing around the near empty space. Save for a bed, wardrobe, and some small odds and ends he had not bothered to bring with him to his own house, there was not much left to show of the boy who had spent his formative years within these four walls.
“I misplaced something,” he lied. “I thought I might have left it here on my last visit.”
In truth, he simply liked visiting the roo
m and remembering his boyhood. It proved an especially beneficial exercise when responsibilities and disappointments of his adulthood proved particularly trying. This remained a special place of escape for him.
Penelope appeared to accept his fib without any type of suspicion. “Ah, well any luck in recovering the item?”
Harry shook his head. “I am afraid not. I must have left it somewhere else.”
His sister shrugged. “I am sure it will turn up.” She moved further into the room, her gaze sweeping over it as a fond smile spread her lips. “I cannot recall the last time I came in here. It must have been around the time you moved out.”
Lustful Memoirs 0f A Bewitching Lady (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 9