Drawn to the Marquess

by Evans, Bronwen

  He didn’t wait for Jonathan to agree. He simply remounted Charger and galloped back toward Hadleigh Manor.

  Chapter 14

  Penelope sat in her morning room at her desk, answering correspondence. She smiled at the note from Sandringham. Her brother was concerned regarding Rotham but swore he would never let the man hurt her. He also seemed to respect her decision to ask Lord Clevedon for help, but she noted the hurt in his words.

  How could she let Sandringham be involved? She wanted to protect her brother from scandal, for if the truth ever came out…

  She pushed the terrible thought aside. But the guilt sat like a heavy loaf in her gut. She could hurt Lord Clevedon and before, when all she knew of him was that he was a wicked rake with a perverted taste for watching others in the throes of passion, that did not seem to matter. But now…“You are a wicked woman,” she scolded.

  She replaced the quill she was holding into the inkstand. How did this get so complicated? She liked Stephen. Pure and simple. And it wasn’t just because he was losing his sight.

  She’d gone all girly this morning hugging his pillow, his scent still on the sheets too. She’d lain dreaming of how different her life would have been if she’d met and married a man like Stephen Hornsby, the Marquess of Clevedon. Her smile dimmed. Her father would never have let that happen. She would still be in Prussia if she had not eloped.

  Did anyone ever get what they wanted? Just then Dorothea popped her head around the door. “Am I interrupting?”

  “No. Of course not. Do come in and I’ll ring for tea.”

  As she rose to pull the bell, she suddenly realized some people got their heart’s desire. Dorothea was the example. Envy burned in her blood and she tried to wish it away. She hated how it twisted her up inside and made her a bad person. She should be happy for Jonathan.

  They settled in the comfortable chairs by the window. The day was warm and they didn’t need a fire.

  “How did you meet my brother?”

  She should have known the conversation would turn to her and Stephen’s relationship. “I met him at a Sotheby auction.” Not a lie.

  “He loves art. He’s been collecting landscapes and seascape paintings for years.” She paused and Penelope swore she could see the instant Dorothea guessed why he gravitated toward those types of paintings. “He loves looking at them,” she said with a note of pain.

  “We both bid on a Richard Wilson painting of a sunrise.”

  “I assume he won it?”

  Penelope nodded. “But he gifted it to me.”

  “How interesting.”

  “Don’t read anything into that, Dorothea. Your brother is known to give gifts to many women.”

  Dorothea chuckled. “He does have a bit of a reputation. However, he would never disrespect a woman. While with them, he treats them like a queen.”

  Penelope cringed inside. While they were together…“He is a good man, your brother. You were lucky to have him.”

  “He has always really been like a father to me and my sisters. He had to step into Father’s shoes at such a young age. I can’t ever remember him being carefree or wild. Perhaps his reputation with women is his way to let go of all that responsibility.”

  She smiled at Dorothea. How did Penelope tell her that Stephen was like any rich, young, handsome buck. They all loved women. “He is most kind in giving up his time to help me.”

  “Phiff. I suspect he took one look at you and would have done anything you wish.”

  She laughed and it felt good. She hadn’t had a lady of her breeding to talk to in a very long time. Charlotte had a life in London and then on her estate up north. They usually corresponded so conversations could take weeks.

  “My brother is a good man but I am afraid for him,” Dorothea said quietly. “I’m scared he’ll end up alone and—and maybe he won’t find anything or anyone to give his life meaning. If he doesn’t, I’m afraid he’ll give up. I know you won’t understand what I’m talking about but”—and she turned to Penelope and gripped her hands—“please be his friend. Please don’t let him push you away. I’m asking you to be the strong one.”

  Penelope drew in a deep breath. “He is my friend. But he’s already told me that our friendship ends when he solves the riddle of my husband’s death.”

  “Don’t let it. I see the way he looks at you. He looks at you the way I first looked at Jonathan—how I still look at Jonathan. I think he loves you.”

  She pulled her hands free of Dorothea’s. “I. No…” She shook her head. She bit her lip, not knowing what to say. Her heart was beating so fast in her chest—he was in love with her?

  “I’m not asking you to fall in love with my brother. Just be his friend. He—he’s going to need good friends.” And suddenly Dorothea began to cry.

  Penelope sat, looking at her, and then pulled her into her arms, gently stroking her hair. “It’s all right, Dorothea.”

  “I’m so scared. I’m so scared he’ll do what Father did,” Dorothea sobbed.

  Penelope was scared of that too. “You think he needs something more to live for.”

  Dorothea’s sobs stopped. She pulled back and looked up at her. “You know. Oh, my God, you know about his eyesight. Does he know you know?”

  She nodded.

  “And he’s still here, helping you. I knew it. I knew he loved you. You can help him. You could give him something to live for.”

  What did she say to that? I love him, too, but he can’t give me the one thing I want—a child. How did she say that sometimes love wasn’t enough.

  “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “It’s not. He just needs you, a family”—she patted her stomach—“a reason to live.” Dorothea had such hope in her eyes.

  “I promise I will try and help him.”

  Penelope wanted children, and her affair with Stephen had brought her walls crashing down. Perhaps she could remarry. He showed her that perhaps this time around she could find a man who loved her. A man with whom she could share the life she’d always dreamed of, but Stephen would not be that man.

  She understood how he felt. She, too, would be petrified that a child of theirs might go blind. Could she do that? Could she bring a child into this world knowing that might happen? Would that not be selfish?

  Yes, she understood the inner battle Stephen faced. That was why he would never change his mind. He would never marry.

  The hope died in Dorothea’s eyes. “You don’t want to marry him because he’s going blind.”

  “No. That is not true, Dorothea. I’ve only just met your brother and while I—I have strong feelings for him, he wants different things than I do. I don’t want to fall in love with the wrong man. I did that once before and had more than my heart broken. I can’t let that happen again.”

  A frown formed on Dorothea’s face. “I don’t understand. My brother loves you, I know it. So how can he be the wrong man? If it is not his problem with his eyes, what is it?”

  This time it was Penelope’s eyes that filled with tears. “When I realized I had married a man who only loved himself, I thought my life was over. What saved me was the idea of having children. Thankfully, Carmichael wanted an heir. Had he known how much I craved children I doubt he would have agreed to change his will, which allowed me to keep this house and the assets I brought into this marriage.”

  She brushed a tear off her cheek. “Before I met your brother I had decided that I would remain a widow. I didn’t have a child with my husband, maybe I can’t, so the idea of risking my heart and my assets again was not worth it.” She smiled through tears. “But you know. You know when the right man comes along it’s magic. I just need faith to know that in my maturity I can be wiser in my choice, and I’m sure I have others who can advise me.”

  “You’ll risk your heart again.”

&n
bsp; “For one reason only. A child. I’d love a family of my own.”

  Dorothea’s smile returned but at Penelope’s raised eyebrow her smile vanished. “My brother doesn’t want children.”

  “I’m sure you can understand why,” Penelope said. “Don’t be angry at him. I can’t be.”

  “I’m not angry just sad. I’m scared this precious child I’m carrying could end up with the family curse but I’m hoping that since my eyes are fine, and Jonathan is such a robust man that we will be fine. Jonathan and I did talk about it but you know what he said? He said that there are no guarantees in life. That our child could be hurt in an accident, or catch a bad lung sickness, or smallpox, or any number of things. Our job is to provide for them, love them, keep them as safe as possible and hope they live a full life. We are not God.”

  Penelope sat there and it was like a flash of lightning in her head. She was going about her desire for a child all wrong. First, she needed to find the man who would love her as she loved him. Then if God was not the evil being she thought Him to be, He would give her a child. Surely, He would not be so cruel as to punish her again.

  She bit her lip. Hadn’t she already met the right man? Stephen would make a wonderful husband. She was already falling in love with him. He made her laugh. Made her fall in love with the world once again.

  “My brother needs someone to show him he’s wrong. It’s not his place to play God. You can show him that he is strong enough to face whatever may come. He would make such a wonderful father and he would love his child no matter what.”

  She reached out and squeezed Dorothea’s hand. “He’s pretty set in his ways but I will try to help him. That’s the best I can promise.”

  She squeezed back. “That’s a start. The fact he’s already sharing your bed gives me hope.”

  Penelope felt her face heat.

  “Don’t be upset. That’s why I could talk to you. I’m hungry all the time and Jonathan got up to fetch me something to eat early this morning. It made me happy as I know you’re the perfect woman for my brother.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because you aren’t swayed by a handsome face and a title. You will make him think about his actions. Besides, I could see how much he cares for you the minute he helped you step down from the carriage. I have never seen him look at a woman like that.”

  “Or maybe it’s only that since you married you recognize the look, whereas before you didn’t know what you were looking at.”

  Dorothea shook her head and smiled. “Either way, I know what the look means. I shall put my faith in you, Penelope.” Her face grew serious. “He deserves love and a family. And so do you.”

  Penelope could not argue with that.

  Just then the women both turned to the window as they heard horses.

  “The men are back. Shall we go down and greet them?”

  Dorothea slipped her arm through Penelope’s as they walked down the stairs.

  “I hope they have good news,” Penelope said.

  “I hope so, too, but it would be nice if it took a few more weeks.”

  On the one hand she, too, hoped it took weeks. Then she could have Stephen in her bed a while longer. But the longer it took, the more likely the truth would come out, and then she didn’t know if her chance at love with Stephen would survive.

  * * *

  —

  They were seated in the drawing room after dinner and Penelope noticed that Stephen appeared to be deep in thought. The men had not said very much about their trip to town except that Jamie Stewart had run when cornered, and that they wanted to speak to the magistrate, who would return from Chelmsford soon.

  Jamie Stewart made her skin crawl. He used to watch her all the time and she knew he spied on her for Carmichael. Stewart must have known what Carmichael was up to. The two of them were as thick as thieves.

  “How do you intend to find Jamie Stewart?” she asked.

  “Oh, Clevedon has offered a rather large reward,” Jonathan answered. “That should flush him from his hiding place, and quickly.”

  “Or simply send him fleeing England, which I suppose is a start,” Penelope whispered. “I would prefer him to be caught if he had something to do with Carmichael’s death.”

  “Don’t worry.” Stephen patted her hand where it lay between them on the settee. “I’ll find him. And when I do we will learn the truth and send Rotham packing.”

  Dorothea decided to change the subject as she said, “I want to go into Seaford tomorrow and order some things for the baby. Penelope, would you like to come with me?”

  “Of course.” She smiled at Dorothea. “What will you men do while we ladies shop?”

  “I thought I’d t-take Stephen fishing.”

  “What did you just say?” Stephen asked Jonathan.

  “The fish at the river mouth are plentiful and large. We could actually provide enough for dinner tomorrow night. Let us spend the morning going back to our hunter-gatherer days.”

  Stephen looked amused. “Hunter-gatherer days? The last time I went fishing I was still in short pants.” He shook his head, laughing. “It might be fun sitting on the riverbank. All right. The man who catches the biggest fish gets a bottle of the finest French brandy.”

  The men shook hands. “Done,” said Jonathan.

  “I shall inform Cook to prepare for fish for dinner tomorrow night. So you best not let us down.”

  Stephen winked at Penelope. “We won’t go hungry if that is what you are worried about.”

  “I hope not. I’m eating for two,” Dorothea said. “And speaking of my condition, I’m tired and I am ready for bed.” She took Jonathan’s hand. “Come on, husband, help me up the stairs.”

  Jonathan didn’t need any further encouragement, and Penelope’s heart squeezed as she watched them leave the room, arms linked, and Jonathan whispering something in Dorothea’s ear that made her blush. They looked so happy together.

  She must have sat staring because suddenly she heard Stephen clear his throat. She swung to face him. “So what did you discover that you are not sharing with me?”

  She watched as he stood up and came to kneel at her feet as she sat in her chair. He took her hands in his large ones and pressed kisses to her knuckles.

  “I’m tired, my sweet. I want to think of anything but your dead husband. Why did you not tell me he physically abused you?”

  She swallowed hard fighting to keep the memories of the pain and humiliation of Carmichael’s beatings at bay. “Telling you would not change my past and it would only upset you. It upsets me thinking about him and how helpless I felt. I used to dream of becoming stronger than him and giving him a thrashing. Perhaps that is why I used to swim every day, it made me stronger.”

  He tweaked her nose playfully. The action spoke of intimacy and her heart could not help skipping a beat.

  “I wish I had known you then. I would have stopped him.”

  She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Well, you are helping me now. Helping clear my name and helping me realize that there is much joy and pleasure left in this world for me to experience.”

  At her wink he smiled. “Perhaps you could wake me early in the morning. But tonight I need sleep if I’m to be in any condition to capture your enemies.”

  She wanted to protest but he did look tired. They had made love for most of the previous night. She was a little weary herself. “Then best you take yourself upstairs to bed. I need my white knight fit and alert. I could not bear anything to happen to you because I’d made you weary.”

  He rose and pulled her up into his arms. “I don’t wish to go to bed alone. Why don’t you escort me to my bedchamber like Jonathan escorted Dorothea?”

  She wanted to be offended at his order but couldn’t. His cheeky smile made her grin. “Because we are not husband and wife, and whi
le my staff is loyal I do not want to openly shock them.”

  He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I think they just want you to be happy. I think I can make you happy.”

  “For now, but you are leaving as soon as this is over. I do not wish to give them the wrong idea.” She waited to hear his response too scared to breathe.

  “Perhaps sleeping alone is not what I need. Being with you invigorates me. I’ll sleep later. Most of the servants are abed. Let me take you to bed—please.”

  It was his quiet “please” that undid her. He looked at her with such longing that her heart wept in her chest. She wanted to hate him for making her long for something he refused to contemplate, but she couldn’t. He had not lied to her about his intentions and she had accepted the little bit of himself he would share while they were together. That didn’t mean she could not push for more—subtly, of course. You didn’t push a man like Stephen openly.

  She laid her hand on his chest. “Take me to bed.”

  She gave a gasp as he swung her into his arms as if she were a feather pillow. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m quite happy to walk, you idiot.”

  He strode toward the door. “You love this. I can see it in your eyes.” He stopped briefly to press a kiss to her lips. “I want to spoil you. You deserve to be wooed.”

  She said nothing as he carried her to bed. She did deserve to be wooed but wooed by a man who could give her his whole heart and a future. She wasn’t sure Stephen could give her either.

  When he entered her bedchamber, Jane took one look at them and made herself scarce. “Jane didn’t even look surprised,” he whispered in her ear.

  “She’s not blind. She saw the state of my bed this morning.”

  Stephen slid her down his body until she stood before him. He reached out and began to remove her jewelry. He carefully placed it on her dresser.

  “Don’t worry about the jewelry. It’s all paste.”