She did not have much hope, however. Though her father was a peer, he did not have a great amount of influence to speak of, let alone enough to sway the constables away from her. She was growing more and more certain that she and Harry would wind up in prison. There was no way either of them could marry Andrew or Lady Dorothy if that were to happen.
Her heart ached thinking of Andrew. She desperately wished he was there with her, holding her and comforting her. Reassuring her of his love, and promising their future together was still secure.
She feared she would never hear his laughter again. Never bask in the warmth of his smile. Never again experience the softness of his lips pressed to hers, or the touch of his fingers exploring her heated depths. Never know the true fulfillment he promised her whenever his gaze turned smoldering…
Tears leaked at the corners of her eyes and slowly ran down her cheeks. She swiped at them with the back of her hand, but they continued to fall no matter how hard she tried to stifle them. Soon enough, she stopped trying and gave into her urge to sob. Burying her face in her hands, she cried so hard, her shoulders shook.
It was over. It was all over. She was going to lose Andrew, his touch and the heat he provoked in her, and her writing career, all in one fell swoop. No matter how hard he fought for her, if she ended up in prison, even he would not be able to defy his parents any longer.
How did everything go so terribly wrong so quickly?
She continued to grieve the loss of her love and life as she knew it when a knock on the door startled her from her tears. Looking up, she wiped at her face again.
“Who is it?” she called.
“It is your mother, darling. May I come in?”
Penelope gulped. “Y…yes.”
The door opened and her mother bustled into the room. She came to a sudden stop when her eyes fell on Penelope’s face.
“Oh, my dear girl, are you all right?” She stepped back into motion, sitting next to Penelope at the window seat she was curled up in. “Have you been crying all alone in here?”
Penelope sniffled and nodded, seeing no reason to lie.
“Yes, Mama.”
Her mother smoothed a hand over her forehead. “My poor baby. I hate to see you so upset. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
Penelope snuggled into her mother’s arms. “Just hold me for a bit, please. I just…I just want to stay here, like this.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” her mother murmured, holding Penelope tight against her. They remained locked together in silence for several minutes. Penelope soaked up her mother’s love and comfort, wishing the moment never had to end. That she could stay, warm and safe in her mother’s embrace for the remainder of her days.
Too soon, however, the moment was brought to an end.
There was a knock on her door. Penelope and her mother reluctantly broke apart to turn and look at the young maid peeking shyly into the room.
“Yes?” her mother asked.
“Pardon me, My Lady. There is a visitor just arrived for Miss Snowley.”
Penelope frowned. “Indeed? Who?”
The maid’s cheeks turned pink and a small smile played around her lips. “Lord Romwich, Madam. He is waiting for you downstairs.”
Penelope straightened in her seat, her heart hammering wildly.
“Lord Romwich? He is here now?”
The maid nodded. “He has only just arrived.”
Penelope turned and met her mother’s wide-eyed gaze.
“Do you suppose Lady Dorothy told him about the constables who stopped by?” her mother questioned.
“I would say it is likely,” Penelope murmured.
“Well, go on then,” her mother said, shooing her with a wave of her hands. “Do not keep him waiting.”
Nodding, Penelope pushed to her feet and hurried from the room, past the blushing maid, who moved to follow after her. She made her way quickly down to the first floor and into the parlor, where Andrew sat waiting for her. He shot to his feet the moment she entered the room and moved toward her.
She drank in the sight of him. His thick hair was mussed and his honey-colored eyes flashing. The way his large body moved as he walked reminded her of a predator stalking his prey. She was the prey, and she did not want to run from him.
They met halfway across the room. He grabbed her hands in his.
“Penelope! My sister told me what happened this morning. I would have been here sooner, but I went to request assistance from the Duke…”
“You did?” she gasped. He had done nothing but argue with his father for the past few weeks. For him to seek out his Grace’s help on her behalf…
Andrew nodded. “Yes, I did, and I have so much to tell you.”
“Really? What did he say?”
“Come sit with me.” Andrew drew her over to the settee by the fireplace and they sat together, their hands still linked. The maid that had followed Penelope in moved to sit on the far side of the room, granting them a modicum of space and privacy.
“Andrew, do not leave me in suspense,” she said when he did not immediately begin to tell her what all he had learned.
“As I said, I went to my father to ask for his help,” Andrew began, setting his shoulders as though preparing to deliver difficult news. “He has agreed to assist you. He will go to the papers himself and release a story telling how you and your brother confessed all to him and sought his forgiveness, and he has granted it.”
“He will?” Penelope gasped.
Andrew nodded, “Yes, he will also make the publishing house abandon their suit against you and inform the police that your charges are to be dropped as well. Your novels will also be put back into circulation for publication.”
This was all too good to be real. She could not believe the Duke would go to such lengths for her and Harry, especially after forbidding his children from continuing their relationships with them.
“Why would he help us like this?” She was so confused, but so grateful all at once. “I thought he no longer approved of us?”
“It is complicated,” Andrew said with a wince. “It was not so much that my father disapproved of us, as it was my mother.”
“Your mother?”
Andrew nodded. “Yes, unfortunately I have learned that the Duchess has been against our courtship from the very beginning, though she never said so out loud.”
Penelope remembered Dorothy speaking of her mother’s easy dismissal of her relationship with Harry earlier that very morning. She marveled at the lady’s ability to mask her true feelings so effectively. Between the Duke and Duchess, Penelope would never have guessed it was Her Grace who would stand so firmly against her and Andrew’s union.
“Penelope, there is more.” Andrew’s expression was pained, and she grew worried at what could possibly have him looking so grim. “My mother…she…she was the one who told the papers who you were. She was the one that went to the police and ordered our publishing house to put forth a suit against you. She was determined to ruin you in order to keep us apart.”
His words were like a physical blow. She recoiled, dropping her gaze to her lap. His mother had gone to such great lengths to pull them apart.
She must truly hate me.
Her expression must have given away her agonized thoughts. Andrew cupped her cheek and raised her eyes back up to meet his.
“Penelope, please do not feel badly about this,” he murmured. “It was my mother’s own pride and ambition which blinded her to her own children’s happiness.”
“But, if your mother does not approve of us, how could we possibly marry?”
The corner of Andrew’s mouth curled. “While the Duchess may not approve at present, the Duke certainly does. She will come around in time if she wishes to remain in her children’s lives. In the meantime, I do not need her permission to love you. You are mine, Penelope, no matter what anyone else thinks.”
Her heart swelled at his words, and her worries were overwhelmed
by her happiness.
“Oh, Andrew. I love you, too.”
His eyes widened at her confession, the first instance she had ever given it. Then, his expression softened and adoration shone in his beautiful honey-gold gaze.
“Do you love me as much as your novels?”
Her smile was wide as she replied, “I believe I love you more.”
He laughed and the sound washed over her like a warm wave.
“Then I am the luckiest of gentlemen.”
They grinned at each other for several moments before a question crossed her mind that, in all the chaos of the last few weeks, she had not thought to ask until now.
“Andrew, when we are married, will…will you wish for me to stop writing my novels?” She watched him closely as she waited for his answer, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.
He chuckled. “Fear not, my love. I would not dream of asking you to stop pursuing your passion for writing. Besides, it was your novels which ultimately brought us together, was it not?”
Thinking back to their first meeting, she realized he was right. Had she not wished to see her new book displayed in the store, and had he not sought a copy for Dorothy’s birthday, they may never have crossed paths.
“I never thought of it that way,” she confessed in delight. “This all seems rather fated, does it not?”
He nodded. “It does. You were always my destiny, my darling. Just like one of your novels.”
She sighed happily. “Not quite like them.”
Frowning, he questioned, “What do you mean?”
“My novels always come to an end. You and I have forever ahead of us.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her into his tight embrace.
“Will you never cease to amaze me?” he murmured into her hair.
She clutched his jacket and shook her head. “Never.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
One Month Later
Penelope stared into the flames burning in the fireplace, wringing her hands as her nerves tried to get the better of her.
There is nothing to fear. You have been looking forward to this night for weeks. Do not lose your courage now.
She dropped her hands to the skirt of her nightgown and tugged at the material. For a moment, she wondered if she should have kept her wedding gown on?
Would he have preferred that? To undress me himself?
She was not certain, and now she worried he would be disappointed.
Do not be silly. It is not as though you will remain dressed for long anyway.
Penelope felt her cheeks heat at the thought. Tonight, a man would see her unclothed for the first time in her life. Tonight, she would explore the intimacies available between a man and a woman, giving herself to Andrew.
To her husband.
I am a wife, now.
She grinned, despite her anxiety. Growing up, Penelope had never been one to dream of her wedding day the way other young ladies did. However, once she had been engaged to Andrew, anticipation for the grand day had exploded within her. Earlier that afternoon, before God and their families and friends, she had vowed her life to his, and he had done the same.
All that was left was to consummate the union. After the ceremony, she had been able to think of little else. She did not believe the experience would be the painful, embarrassing thing that other married ladies had described it as. Andrew was gentle and had been able to strum such delicious pleasure in her body before, she thought he would make their first time together wonderful.
Still, that did not mean she was not nervous.
Her mother had sent her up from the wedding festivities ahead of him to prepare, but the time alone had only given her apprehension room to grow.
The door clicked open behind her and she spun around with a gasp. Andrew grinned at her as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him again.
“Good evening, wife. Did I startle you?”
Her heart thudded and warmth spread through her belly. She liked hearing him call her that.
“A bit, husband. I was lost in thought and did not hear you approach.”
He moved closer to her. The look in his eyes made her shiver in delight.
“Are you afraid, my love?” he asked when he stood directly before her, so close, his breath warmed her forehead.
She took a deep breath and met his gaze with a shaky smile.
“Not afraid, just a bit…nervous.”
He nodded, and gently brushed a lock of her hair from her forehead. “I promise to be gentle with you, my love. I wish for us both to find pleasure this evening.”
“I know,” she whispered. They stared at each for a heartbeat of time, and then he leaned down to brush his lips over hers. The contact was so light, but it made her jolt, as if shocked.
“Easy, darling,” he whispered. “Just relax. I will take care of you.”
Gulping, Penelope nodded, and he pressed his mouth to hers in a proper kiss. She melted into him, helpless against his tender onslaught. His tongue licked the seam of her lips, and she parted them to allow him access. He explored her mouth as he cupped her cheek, angling her head so he could deepen their contact.
When he pulled back from her, she was panting and leaning into his chest as though her legs alone could not hold her up.
“You are a breathtaking sight with your cheeks pink and your lips plump from my kiss,” he breathed.
“Andrew…” His name was a whimper.
He kissed her again as his hands caressed her shoulders, seeking out the tie to her nightgown. With a yank, he loosened the bow, and the material gaped at her chest. As he distracted her with tongue and teeth, he smoothed the material of her gown down her body until it pooled on the floor at her feet.
She stood naked before him, and he pulled back to let his eyes take her in from head to toe. Penelope fought the urge to cover herself with her hands. She wanted Andrew to see her, and she wanted to see him.
“Now you,” she whispered, dropping her gaze from his in embarrassment.
He chuckled. “As my bride demands.”
His clothes rustled as he began to undress, and Penelope found the courage to peek up at him as he reached for his linen shirt and pulled it over his head. She gulped at the sight of his broad, bare chest. There was a dusting of golden hair that stretched the length of his collarbone, but narrowed down to a line as it traveled down the ropes of muscle in his torso before disappearing beneath his breeches.
Her eyes lingered on the sizeable bulge she found there. Slowly, his fingers moved to undo the buttons of his breeches, and the next moment, he was as naked as she was.
I never knew a man’s form could be so beautiful. So…titillating.
She stared at his hard length in awe, but he did not give her much time to appreciate his nude form. Stepping toward her, he bent down to scoop her up into his arms.
She cried out, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He moved to the bed and gently laid her among the pillows before stretching out next to her.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, running his gaze up and down her body once more. He rested one hand on her breast, and she hissed in a breath at the strange sensation. “I have dreamed of this moment since we first met. Of seeing you like this, willing and ready for me.”
Reaching toward him, she cupped his face.
“I have dreamed of this moment, too,” she confessed. “I want to please you, Andrew.”
“And I you,” he replied, gazing down into her eyes. Dipping his head, he captured her lips with his once more and moved so he rested on top of her. The feel of his hard body pressed against her softness had Penelope moaning in joy as their kiss grew more frantic.
“Spread your legs, darling,” he murmured, and she did without hesitation. Any embarrassment and anxiety she had felt before melted away as his hands explored her curves, traveling further down until his fingers reached the apex of her thighs. The memory of their illicit encounter in the sleigh that
snowy day flashed through her mind, and she arched her hips eagerly in invitation.
His fingers dipped into her heat, and she moaned into his mouth. His other hand found her breast again and he gently cupped the soft mound, weighing it in his hand, as he stroked her between her legs. Soon, she was writhing beneath him, desperate for release as her pleasure built and built inside her.
Lustful Memoirs 0f A Bewitching Lady (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 27