by Emma Sloane
“It would certainly do her reputation no good if the gossips believed her to be entertaining Hugh’s suit before she leaves mourning,” Gray agreed. He took a sip of his tea, eyeing his aunt over the rim of the china cup. “What can you tell me about Lady Hamilton’s family?”
“She’s the daughter of a baron,” Minerva replied promptly. “A very respectable family with an estate which lies within a day’s travel of Sheffield Park and is reputed to be well cared for. The oldest son has taken over the estate after the death of the father--apparently, the elder Baron took to his bed with an inflammation of the lungs and died quite suddenly. The new Baron has been married but a short time and his young wife is awaiting the arrival of their first child. The stress of being thrust into the role of lord and lady of the manor while expecting has been difficult for the couple, which is why Amelia and her younger brother are staying with Lady Wentworth.”
“Was Lady Hamilton part of London society before the death of her father?"
“Sadly, no. Her mother was ill for several years and was unable to launch her daughter into society. She passed when Amelia was older, I believe perhaps seventeen or eighteen. Her father kept the children close after that as the family was grieving and they had barely ended the mourning period for their mother before they lost their father. I recall Miss Wentworth commenting that her cousin will be returning to normal society functions in the spring. Which means, perhaps, that Amelia may be at least twenty years of age. My conversations with her, while admittedly not extensive, have found her to be a levelheaded young woman with a pleasant demeanor.”
“So, not a flighty young thing intent only on balls and gowns, then?”
“Nothing wrong with having an interest in gowns and balls,” Minerva informed him briskly, “such things are important to a woman’s standing in society. However, if one is contemplating taking a wife, a man would be wise to look beyond such surface things and consider the depth of her character and wisdom. A man couldn’t go wrong in pursuing a young lady such as Amelia Hamilton.”
“You discerned all this in a few conversations that weren’t extensive?” Gray quizzed, considering his aunt’s championing of the young woman that had caught Hugh’s interest.
A tiny frown pleated the fine skin between her eyebrows as Minerva considered his question. “Yes,” she said at last. “I believe she is a person of good character, but would prefer to spend more time with her in order to confirm my feelings. Unfortunately, as she’s in mourning, we have not found a means to further our acquaintance without setting the gossips’ tongues wagging even more. And you know how much Hugh would hate that, particularly as he seems to have gone to great lengths to make everyone believe he’s courting Lady Wentworth.”
“Agreed.” Gray considered the problem. “I was given to understand by Lady Wentworth this morning that her cousins plan to spend the holidays here in London with her.”
“I fail to see how that helps us,” she replied. “We’ll be joining you and the rest of the family at Sheffield Park.”
“Yes, the holidays will find many family members at the Park,” Gray conceded. “Which makes me wonder if adding three more guests would be noticed by society gossips.”
Minerva tilted her head, her blue eyes brightening, alert with interest. “Are you suggesting you wish to invite them to join the family at Sheffield for the holidays?”
“Perhaps. Do you own any connection to the ladies beyond your conversations about books at the library?”
Minerva nodded, a decisive movement that set her curls bobbing. “We do indeed, for Lady Wentworth’s mother was a friend of your own mother. They made their debut the same year and were part of a group of young people who became good friends.”
“I don’t recall my mother ever mentioning the family.”
“Sadly, their friendship languished when Lady Wentworth’s mother married immediately following her first season and retired to the country with her husband. Penelope was born several years later and I believe her mother’s health was fragile after the birth. She passed away and the father remarried before Penelope was old enough for her debut, if I recall correctly.” Minerva paused, taking a restorative sip of tea before continuing. “Her father remarried to a widow from the neighborhood and if rumor is true, she was not the most generous of stepmothers.”
“Hmm,” Gray murmured noncommittally.
Minerva eyed him over the rim of her teacup. “Rumor has it the stepmother is responsible for Penelope’s marriage before she was allowed a season in society--and to a man who must be considered unacceptable to any caring parent.” She returned her cup to its porcelain saucer with a distinct snap. “My friends and I have commented on Penelope’s kindness in having taken in her younger cousins, which only bears out our observations of Penelope Wentworth as a sensible woman of good breeding who is well-rid of her husband.”
“Are you suggesting the death of her husband should be celebrated?” Gray asked, sipping his tea while eyeing Minerva with interest. He didn’t add that he agreed with his aunt and her friends--any female would be well-rid of a husband such as Frederick Wentworth.
“Wentworth died in a carriage accident a short six months after the wedding. Sometimes a brief marriage ended by widowhood is a welcome alternative to life with a profligate husband,” Minerva informed him. “Especially if the widow is well-situated financially.”
“And is she?” Gray inquired, curious. “Financially comfortable?”
“It would seem so,” Minerva confirmed. “Rumor has it she inherited a satisfactory sum, including a London house, from her maternal grandmother. Apparently,” she added, “the stepmother was unable to get her hands on the girl’s inheritance although I’m certain she no doubt tried.”
“Where is the father in this story? Was he completely unaware of his wife’s scheming?”
“Penelope’s father reportedly knew Frederick’s father at school and they kept in touch, however, he knew nothing of the son’s rakehell ways. I’m certain the stepmother did her best to keep him unaware until Penelope was married and gone from the house.”
“A sad tale indeed,” Gray agreed. “And what of the father now? Does Lady Wentworth have contact with him?”
“He passed away last year and a distant cousin inherited the title and estate. From a passing comment she made, I don’t believe Penelope has had recent contact with that side of the family, although she is quite close with her cousins on her mother’s side, including Amelia and William.”
“I see.” Gray took a moment to consider. Could he have been wrong about Frederick Wentworth’s unsavoury lifestyle damaging his wife? Six months was certainly enough time to debauch someone, but perhaps that hadn’t happened in this case. Any concerns he’d harbored over prolonged contact between Lady Wentworth and his family members were rapidly fading beneath Minerva’s staunch support of the woman. “You appear to have gathered quite a bit of information about the ladies during your casual conversations at the lending library.”
“Hah,” Minerva snorted. “I have a great deal of experience at drawing out information from people when I need to do so. And since Hugh’s name has been linked to theirs, I had an excellent reason to discover as much as possible about the two young women.”
“Did your questioning elicit any opinion as to the influence Frederick Wentworth may have had on his young wife during their short marriage?”
Minerva’s eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting that despicable man may have damaged Penelope’s character in some way?”
“I’m not suggesting, merely inquiring as to your opinion,” Gray assured her. He was still skeptical whether any woman could be married to a man of Frederick’s known darker side without being influenced. Nonetheless, it seemed Lady Penelope may be the exception and he valued his great-aunt’s observations.
“I would wager my own reputation on the young woman’s character,” Minerva said. “In any event, not only was the marriage of short duration, but I believe he was rarely a
t home, or indeed in London, for most of that time. I recall someone relaying gossip that he had left his bride in London and hied off to Paris, chasing after his mistress. Apparently, she was piqued that he married.”
“Good lord,” Gray swore in disgust. “The man had no sense of polite behavior.”
“Not in the slightest,” Minerva agreed with decided emphasis. “In any event, if you’re wondering if Penelope Wentworth’s character far exceeded that of the unfortunate excuse of a man she married, I believe I can assure you unequivocally that she does.”
“I see.” Gray grinned at the decidedly determined set of his great-aunt’s chin. “Well then, I suggest we continue your gathering of information. At Sheffield Park. Over Christmas holidays. That is, if you’re quite certain Frederick Wentworth’s widow is an acceptable guest. You do seem to hold him in disregard, after all.”
“A wife is not responsible for a rakehell husband,” she informed him severely. “If that were true, half the wives in the ton must be expelled. No, I would be quite content with attending a gathering in which Penelope Wentworth were a fellow guest. I quite look forward to getting to know her better as well as her cousins.” Minerva smiled with delight. “Shall you extend the invitation or shall I?”
“You are certainly the better person to issue the invitation, given your connection to Lady Wentworth’s mother,” Gray told her. He returned his cup and saucer to the polished wood of the tea table and stood, dusting an errant crumb of pastry from his breeches. “I feel certain the ladies are much more likely to accept an invitation from you than me.”
“Very well. I shall write a note to Penelope this morning,” Minerva hid a satisfied smile behind her teacup.
Gray suspected he was being maneuvered in some way but mentally shrugged. He wasn’t averse to providing a bit of amusement for his great aunt.
“Then I’ll be off,” he told her. “I’m to meet Val at Tattersall’s and don’t want to be late.”
“Very well.” Minerva waved him off. “Tell Val to stop by for a visit. I want to ask him about a young woman I saw him conversing with at the ball last night.”
“I shall pass on your summons to appear for interrogation,” Gray told her, grinning at the militant glint in her eye before he turned and left the room. He thoroughly enjoyed matching wits with all of his great aunts, but most especially Minerva. She was mentally as sharp as anyone half her age, despite her multiple decades.
He set off for Tattersalls to meet Val, already anticipating his upcoming conversation with Penelope Wentworth. He planned to present himself during afternoon calling hours.
The swift surge of anticipation surprised him.
Chapter 5
Penelope had no sooner bid goodbye to three friends who had called on her to share tea and a lively discussion of the upcoming holiday festivities, when her butler interrupted her once again.
“His Grace, the Duke of Sheffield, ma’am.”
Startled, Penelope watched Bartle step aside and usher the Duke in with a respectful bow before disappearing down the hallway.
“Your Grace.” She started to rise but he waved her back to her seat.
“Please, don’t get up. You look quite comfortable as you are, Lady Wentworth.”
She sank back, arranging the skirts of her blue afternoon gown against the warm gold of the silk-covered settee in an attempt to equally settle her nerves. She needed to talk to him in confidence, but his sudden and unexpected appearance had caught her off guard.
“I confess, I did not expect to see you so soon after happening upon you in the park this morning,” she told him. The door to the hallway stood wide but they were alone. She braced for what she was certain would be a confrontation over her alleged connection to Hugh. “However, I am glad you are here, for there is something I believe we should discuss.”
“Oh?” He lifted one dark brow, his sharp gaze defying the mild tone. “And what might that be?”
“I fear you may have heard gossip for unfortunately, my friends assure me it is well circulated,” she said. “Speculation regarding a connection between myself and Hugh is rampant, I’m given to understand. I want to reassure you that we are not on the brink of an engagement, nor are we likely to be.”
“Oh, that.” He waved a negligent hand, as if to brush away an annoying but inconsequential insect. “It’s true I’ve heard the gossip. It’s equally true I’m well aware the rumors are just that-–gossip and rumors--and without a particle of truth.”
Speechless, Penelope could only stare at him, taken aback. His reaction was the complete opposite of what she had expected. “I… That is, you…” She paused to draw a deep breath. “I must confess, I feared you would be upset at the linking of Hugh’s name with mine,” she finally managed to get out.
“In my experience, rumors are rarely true,” he replied. “However, in this case, I’m quite certain I know why the gossipmongers are leaping to conclusions. I suspect Hugh does, in fact, have a very particular reason for frequenting your home.”
Penelope studied the handsome features but could read nothing of his intent. “You must be very good at bluffing when playing cards, sir.”
A smile curved his hard mouth, his green eyes sparking with genuine amusement.
Penelope blinked, unable to look away. This, she thought, is why half the women in London strive to attract his attention. Holding a dukedom certainly doesn’t hurt, but he is quite the most wickedly attractive man I have ever met.
“That bodes well for my success when next I find myself at the card table,” he said. “Nevertheless, as to Hugh, I’ve known him all his life. We grew up together and he’s more akin to a younger brother than cousin. Having observed him in the company of both you and Lady Hamilton, I quickly deduced the gossipmongers have once again failed to perceive the truth of the matter. It’s perfectly clear that Hugh is interested in Lady Hamilton.”
He raised a hand to forestall the swift protest that hovered on her lips. “I doubt others would notice his partiality. For me, however, his allowing your cousins and yourself to ride horses from his stable settles the matter. To my knowledge, Hugh has steadfastly refused requests from his own sisters to gallop one of his precious horses.”
“I see,” Penelope managed faintly.
The Duke studied her for a moment. “I’m given to understand from a reliable source that Lady Hamilton is a young woman of good family and character,” he continued when she didn’t comment further. “In other words, a worthy recipient of my heir’s interest. Because of this, I see no reason to object to his wooing, even if,” he added wryly, “his methods are a bit unorthodox.”
“I assume you’re aware Amelia is in mourning following her father’s unfortunate death. She won’t be going about in society for another three months,” Penelope advised him.
“Indeed.” He nodded. “I comprehend the situation is a delicate one.”
“Well, then.” Penelope exhaled, muscles relaxing as tension seemed to depart with her breath. “I’m much relieved you have discerned the true situation. I assure you I’ve tried to discourage Hugh’s pretending to the world that he’s fixed his attention on me. I urged him to wait until such time as he can properly court Amelia. Unfortunately, he has continued to deny he’s doing anything improper by following me about and calling on us here.” Penelope frowned. “I’m certain you must be aware that Hugh can be decidedly stubborn when he does not wish to agree with a reasonable argument.”
“I am well acquainted with his response to unwanted reasoning,” he responded gravely, his eyes amused. “It’s one of his most annoying traits.”
“Tea?” she said absently, lifting the cream and rose china pot.
“Yes, please.”
She poured, continuing to frown, her gaze on the stream of fragrant dark brew as it filled the delicate cup. “I haven’t spoken to Amelia regarding Hugh’s interest. He has been extremely kind to both she and William, and I hesitate to say anything that might possibly upset either of
them in any way. Hugh’s continued friendship has been a welcome distraction and his visits have done much to lighten their spirits since their father’s death. They both were so very sad when I collected them from their family home and brought them to London to stay with me. Hugh makes them smile and I confess, I am loathe to take that away from them.”
“Hugh has a kind heart,” Gray agreed, accepting the cup and saucer, cradling it in one large hand. “I wouldn’t want to end their friendship. In fact, if you will indulge me, I have a proposal to perhaps encourage the connection.”
Startled at the unexpected comment, Penelope gathered her composure and nodded her willingness to listen.
“The St. Cyr family owns a social connection with you through your mother and mine, who shared their debut season and became close friends. Further, my great aunt Minerva assures me our families are distantly related on her husband’s side. True, the connection isn’t through actual descendants or shared bloodlines, but I think we can claim a familial connection. I believe you are acquainted with my aunt Minerva, the Dowager Countess Estebridge, having met her and her sisters at a lending library here in London?”
“Lady Minerva is your aunt?” Penelope queried, unsure where he was going with his comments.
“She is indeed.” His hard mouth curved in a grin. “And she is a formidable woman--if she says you are family, then you can rest assured ton society will agree. Therefore, as family, we wish to invite you, William, and Lady Amelia to join us and spend Christmas at Sheffield Park, with the rest of the St. Cyrs.”
Stunned, Penelope could only stare at him.
“I see I have surprised you. Let me explain. I’m certain it’s only a matter of time before someone discovers Hugh’s interest in your cousin. When that happens, the gossips will heap coals upon both their heads. I don’t want that to happen and I’m certain you do not, either. Therefore, I’m suggesting we take all parties to Sheffield Park for the holidays. Many of the guests will be there for at least a month, which will give Hugh and your cousin time to further their acquaintance in peaceful surroundings while still being fully chaperoned. In truth, with all the family there, it’s unlikely the couple will ever find themselves without a cluster of companions. Lady Hamilton will have the opportunity to meet Hugh’s extended family and become familiar with them, while the same is true of them with her. Without the weight of being under society’s eye, the two will be able to spend time together with a circle of friendly ladies and gentleman as they could not hope to do here in London.”