Kiss Me Lady One More Time

by Marlowe, Deb

  She gasped. Samseh’s eye’s widened. Very slowly, he turned his head. Whatever he saw made him release her.

  Penelope half turned, then she jumped against Sterne’s tall form, clinging to his neck and fighting not to sob in relief.

  He clung to her with one arm and steadied the other, which held a pistol pointed at the servant.

  “Allow me.” Tensford stepped in and reached for the gun. “You have better things to fill your hands with.”

  Penelope lifted her head. “Hope?”

  “Outside. Fuming at being left out there. I’ll send Ruby out to fetch her in, now. Smart girl, that one. She followed you in, sent for help and hid close enough to see how this bastard opened the secret door.”

  Penelope began to shake. Sterne picked her up and carried her into the library. He took her to a far, dark corner and sat with her in his lap and held her close while she quietly came unglued. She didn’t cry. Not this time. She just shivered and shook while he held her and barked for hot, sugared tea. When it arrived, brought by gawking servants, he held her and plied her with the hot drink and stroked her hair.

  He held her while Hope hugged her and while Whiddon scolded her furiously. He held her while she told Tensford everything Lady Lowell had said and while she thanked Ruby for being so brave and bold and heroic. He held her while she whispered in Mrs. Caradec’s ear for a long while and when that good lady squeezed her hand and said, “I’m sure we can manage something.”

  And then he held her closer still while he stood and said, “I’m taking Penelope home.”

  He didn’t wait for anyone to comment or object, just walked out with her in his arms. She snuggled in, more than happy to be there.

  The carriage she’d come in sat waiting outside, among a number of others. “Where are the Curtis brothers?”

  “They found the lot of us arguing like fiends at the Pelican. They told us exactly where we needed to be—and how fast. Then, I suspect, they set out for Gloucestershire.”

  “I suppose I must pay them as I promised, although I’d also like to knock their heads together,” she grumped.

  “I heard what you said in there,” he whispered. “Thank you for championing me.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” she said on a sigh. “It was all true.”

  “It was true to you, and that is what matters.”

  She might have fallen asleep a little, burrowed into the crook of his neck. The next thing she knew, the carriage had stopped, and he was somehow managing to climb down with her in his arms.

  He strode into the house and took her straight to Hope’s parlor. Letting go of her at last, he sat her in a highbacked, comfortably stuffed chair and pulled the other close, so that they sat facing each other, only inches apart.

  “I want it to be here. Here, where I first knew that I was never going to be alone again.”

  She gave him a look and he chuckled. “My heart knew it, at least. That’s when I really started to believe. It just took my head a while to catch up.”

  The words were lovely, but her gaze narrowed as she stared at him. “Hold a moment. Is that a white stripe in your hair?”

  He looked sheepish. “Yes. I predict it is going to be a colossal effort to get it out. Derby mixed powder and—

  She clutched his hand to make him stop talking. She took in his black coat and breeches and his dazzling white waistcoat. “Barrett Sterne, did you go to the masquerade dressed as a badger?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Never alone? That’s what you just said?” Her heart skipped a beat. “That get up looks like a very different message. Together, but apart—isn’t that what you said about badgers? Is that what you thought to tell me, with this costume?”

  “It’s how I felt, back when I ordered the damned thing.” He spoke with an air of confession. “Back when I thought I’d be forever separate, watching you from afar while you lived your life and found another love.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Exactly. I’ve been an ass.”

  “I daresay we could find you that costume,” she muttered.

  “I would gladly wear it,” he declared. “It would be the least I deserved. I was a fool. I couldn’t see that I was carrying old views, letting them shape my thoughts, my reactions, my life. You and Tensford, you made me realize that, like my parents, I’d been seeking some arbitrary perfection. I thought that friendships and love looked a certain way and that I could not give, or give in to, anything different. Not without disappointing those that I cared for the most.”

  She sat back a little. “I am not perfect. No one is.”

  “You are perfect for me.”

  “No. I’m not perfect in any way. I suppose I should make my own confession about my costume.”

  His eyes roamed over her, uncomprehending. She turned a bit and twitched out her striped overskirt in the back, along with one shimmering wing.

  “A bee?”

  “A queen bee,” she clarified.

  “Ah.” He understood. “Ruling alone.”

  She nodded.

  “Absolutely not.”

  She gave him a smile. “Not perfect, you see.”

  “Your imperfections are slight. Mine are considerably worse, but don’t you see? Cannot you feel it? We align together perfectly along those fault lines. You were right. I have wanted a home, a sense of belonging, a connection that is comfortable and passionate and deep. You embody it all, in one lovely, intelligent, fierce and witty form. You offered it to me, and I was too blind to see how right we were. It took a couple of blows from you and Tensford to knock the blinders all the way from my eyes and crumble the stone encasing my heart.”

  “It sounds painful.”

  “It was, but it was well deserved. And I was not completely unaware, it turns out. Some part of me just would not countenance letting you go, though I tried to convince myself.” He reached into a pocket. “I brought this tonight. At first, I thought I wanted to give it to you so that you would remember me. But I was wrong.”

  She took the box with shaking fingers. Inside, she found a golden locket, delicately carved. “Ooh, it’s lovely.” It had a clasp and she looked at him, questioning. He nodded for her to open it.

  She did—and laughed softly. “Oh, how darling.”

  It was a painted image of a badger looking back at her.

  “Miss Nichols painted it for me. She’s quite the gifted artist, I have discovered.”

  “I can see that she is,” she said, stroking it with a finger.

  “I know now that I had it made because I need to ask you—Will you be a badger with me?” He raised a hand. “A new breed, perhaps. Badgers together, not badgers apart. Sharing laughter and love and everything else important in life.”

  He leaned forward to slip the locket around her neck. “Now I know that I can have everything I’ve always wanted, as long as you carry me in your heart. That is my home,” he whispered.

  Tears gathered. She felt one escape and he reached out to catch it—and suddenly they were in each other’s arms and they were both home, in the feel and the smell and the taste of the other. For several long minutes, they pledged their love with ardent kisses and soft murmurings and light touches.

  At last he pulled away and framed her face in his hands. She pressed her cheek into his palm and sighed.

  “Is this a yes?” he asked. “Will you be my wife, even if our badger’s sett must consist of a set of rooms in Town?”

  “Yes. Yes. I will be your wife and I will live with you anywhere.” Pulling back, she took his hands in her own. “But you know, there may be other options.”

  He raised his brows.

  “You do like to go on about how good I am with people, but I’ve seen you interacting with everyone from the stable boys to the highest peers of the realm. Everyone likes you, because they sense your interest in them, your care for them and their views. You take exquisite care of your friends. You were willing to abandon your happiness to ensure m
ine.” She gave him a look. “Even though the idea that I could be happy without you was terribly misguided.”

  “Terribly,” he agreed.

  She could tell he had no idea what she was driving toward.

  “My father could not ask for a better man to train to take care of our land and people, Sterne,” she said gently. “We could build a house of our own somewhere on the estate. You could learn from my father—and from me, I daresay. You wouldn’t have to give up your own pursuits. There should be plenty of time for both, especially if we all share the responsibilities.”

  He stared at her, his expression wondering. “Would your father even consider such a thing?”

  “My father knows a good man when he sees one. I think he will like the idea.” She shrugged. “We can but ask. If he is not so inclined, then we will make other plans. Together,” she said firmly.

  “I adore you for even thinking of such an idea, but it is that last part that is my only true requirement.”

  He touched her top lip with his finger, and she kissed it. “Together. No second thoughts. No reservations.”

  “Never. Together. Forever,” he vowed.

  Her grin grew into a broad smile as she stood and climbed back into his lap. She kissed him again and his warmth surrounded her and she knew that, at last, they were both right where they belonged.

  Epilogue

  They married that autumn, in the village church. Penelope’s mother threw an astonishing wedding breakfast in one of her gardens. She’d brought in trees in pots, covered in brilliantly colored leaves and hung garland everywhere, thick with autumn blossoms, apples, gourds and sheaves of wheat.

  Everyone marveled at it and the compliments were unending. “It is the least I could do,” she told everyone who praised her. “As I am thrilled to keep my daughter close—as well as the best assistant any botanist ever had.”

  Compliments were thick on the ground for the squire as well. He’d roasted a whole pig, arranged a veritable feast and gifted everyone with pots of Mary Davies’ honey. “It doesn’t compare with the gift my daughter is giving me—a son and a partner and the promise of family staying close.”

  Penelope and Sterne both teared up a little, the first time they heard him say it.

  Sterne’s parents did not attend, although she had finally talked him into inviting them. His aunt and uncle arrived early, though, to spend time getting to know her and her family. They were utterly lovely.

  They did not invite James Lycett. The last they had heard of him, he was seeking passage to the Americas.

  The Earl and Countess of Tensford were there, of course. Hope was glowing and Tensford was as proud as a peacock. Penelope offered him the use of her wings, should he care to wear them.

  Mary Davies was there with her betrothed, who caught Hope at a table and grilled her on the techniques she used to get such large and healthy plants in her lavender field.

  “Who would have thought we’d both be getting married, and so soon?” Mary asked.

  “I’m glad you found someone you spark with,” Penelope whispered with a grin.

  Chester and Whiddon came, of course. Chester looked exhausted, but seemed very merry. Penelope thought Whiddon looked pensive all day, but he joked as always when she tried to talk to him.

  Only Keswick was missing, out of their group of friends. He and Glory were still in Ireland and being mysterious about what delayed them. But they continued to write and were still excited about coming home to renovate and reinvent the property they’d purchased nearby. Eventually.

  Mrs. Caradec had come and brought both her husband and Ruby. Rhys Caradec ate heartily, kissed Penelope on both cheeks, then pulled out a sketchbook and began to sketch images of the décor. He questioned Penelope’s mother closely and ended with insisting he should paint her in one of her greenhouses. Soon. Ruby left the main party and joined the servants’ celebrations and was currently holding court over a collection of stable lads and farmer’s sons.

  The wedding breakfast stretched into a wedding all-day party. The guests did not seem inclined to leave. The conversation and the drinks flowed. No one enjoyed the day more than Penelope and Sterne. Arm in arm, they visited and laughed and ate and reveled in the warmth of their connections.

  There were surprises. An exquisite porcelain vase arrived from Mr. and Mrs. Millbank, who were still abroad. And a wagon arrived, full of pierced stone grates, hand delivered by the Curtis brothers. Those two had meekly accepted both the money and the harangue she’d given them, and now promised to make her all the decorative grates her eventual new home would hold.

  Later, as the sun began to sink, another wagon arrived in the front drive. Tensford and Hope were called out, as well as Penelope and Sterne. They came out to find Stillwater standing and awaiting them. Without a word, he walked around and pulled the covering from the object standing in the wagon.

  The four of them gaped.

  “Wait. How did you—” Sterne looked to Tensford. “I thought you left it with Lady Lowell?”

  “I did.” Tensford had insisted he was tired of thinking about his damned fish. He had left it with Lady Lowell in hopes that it would soothe her husband’s ire. Although, in accordance with Penelope’s request, Hestia Wright was also looking into the man’s background, hoping to find something damning enough for his wife to hold as leverage against his ill treatment.

  The earl stepped closer to the wagon. “That is not the same fossil, though. It is similar, but not exact.”

  “It is yours, all the same,” Mr. Stillwater said. He cleared his throat. “I cannot keep it any longer. It’s brought me nothing but guilt and misery.”

  Sterne caught on first. “Tensford—I believe this is your fish tale.”

  Tensford started. “But that was just the tail.”

  Stillwater lifted his chin. “I heard everything you told your father that day. I knew exactly the turn in the river you meant. I went straight there after I left the two of you. More limestone had fallen by the time I got there, and more of the fish was exposed. To my everlasting shame, I crudely hammered the whole thing out of the cliff face. I dragged it to the trees and was hiding with it when you finally coaxed your father down there.”

  “You stole a little boy’s discovery,” Hope said coldly.

  “I did. And I hid it away for years. It’s haunted me, ever since. Now, I return it, so that it may belong to your son.” He gestured toward Hope’s belly.

  None of them spoke. There seemed nothing to say.

  The old man cleared his throat again. “I give it as a wedding present.”

  “You’ve made my friend happy, I’m sure.” Sterne said at last. “And so, I thank you.”

  “I heard much about your trip to London, you know,” Stillwater said. “I heard how it ended.” He looked at Penelope. “I thought I might give the bride something as well.”

  Sterne stepped protectively close to her.

  “I heard about the room you were in. The trophies.”

  She nodded.

  “Did you happen to see a collection of teeth?”

  “I did.” She shivered. “How did you know?”

  “I know where they come from.” He looked at Sterne. “If I may approach your lady?”

  Sterne looked at her and nodded. Stillwater came close and whispered in her ear. “Tell that to Hestia Wright and Lord Lowell’s wife,” he said, stepping away. “It’s true. It’s all the weapon she needs to keep her husband from doing anything she doesn’t like.”

  Penelope sighed. “It is a very odd, but useful sort of present. I think it will bring her some peace. Thank you.”

  He walked back and let his servant help him up to the bench of the wagon. “I’ll deliver this and leave it outside your workshop,” he told Tensford. “Good day to you.”

  They watched him go. At last, Tensford heaved a sigh. “You know, I think I’d rather have that one back, given the choice. I found it myself. And it led to many more happy hours hunting with my fathe
r.” He smiled around at each of them. “Let’s go get some of that cider and drink to the end of my fish tale.” He took Hope’s arm and led her tenderly back inside.

  Sterne grabbed Penelope’s hand and held her back. He gave her a meaningful look. “We could go back in. Or we could sneak out, right now.”

  “How long is it to Tensford’s cabin?” she asked as she put her arms around him. The earl and countess had offered the private place for the first few days of their marriage. They were planning a longer bridal trip, after the harvest. They meant to go to Spain, to accomplish some of the research for Sterne’s article.

  “It’s a fair distance,” he admitted. “It’s far from everything. We could always take Mrs. Thomkins up on her offer and stay at the Cock and Crown,” he said with a laugh.

  She shuddered. “No. If we did, I suspect she’ll tell every prospective guest that they can stay in the room where the future Lady Pemdale was deflowered.”

  “Well, then. We’d better start out. It will be dark soon. We won’t want to waste a minute of this night.”

  “I already sent word to the stable to have Luna and your mount readied,” she told him.

  “In a hurry, are you?”

  “Yes, indeed. I’ve been looking forward to connecting with you in an entirely new way.”

  He drew her in closer. “As have I, my love. As have I.” He looked up and around them. “You’ve already given me so much. I felt alone for much of my life. But now, my heart is full.”

  “Fully connected.” She kissed him softly.

  “And all connections lead to you.” He pulled her tight against him. “Kiss me one more time, and then let’s go, while I can still mount a horse.”

  “We could take my gig.”

  “If it had a place to stretch out, I might agree. But I just want to get you alone, as quickly as I can.”

  “Yes, please,” she said.

  And so they ran away to be alone.

  Together.

  Author’s Note

  Confession: I fudged a little, using the fossil footprints as Rowland’s big reveal at the masquerade. Twelve year old Pliny Moody found the first known fossil footprints, in 1801 in Massachusetts. He did not understand his find and his family used it as a doorstop for years. The first scholarly look at fossilized footprints came in the 1830s in Britain, when famed fossil scholar William Buckland studied a set found in Scotland and deduced the footprints were made by a tortoise. It was found much later that they were made by an evolutionary predecessor to mammals.