by Ivory Lei
The kidnapper swore and whirled to face Lucas, who greeted him with a large, bunched fist. The accomplice wailed as Lucas hauled the man up by his collar and shook him.
“Teddy!” Lady Uffington shrieked from the doorway. The accomplice used the commotion to make her escape through the open window. “Stop!” Penelope screamed, but she was too late. The woman had already escaped.
Several people poured into the library, probably drawn by the pistol going off, only to see Lucas holding a barely conscious man in the air by his collar while she clutched a small, bound and gagged boy.
A few men ran to help Lucas apprehend the kidnapper, binding his hands and feet while the constable was summoned. She never let go of the child.
Lady Uffington seemed to finally shake out of her stupor. “Teddy!” she screamed again.
Penelope let go of the boy, who ran straight into Lady Uffington’s arms. “Oh, Teddy, thank God you are safe,” she cried as she freed her son’s hands and held him close.
Penelope watched it all happening as if in a dream — her right shoulder ached, and her feet remained rooted to the floor until Lucas stepped into the aisle and pried the heavy book she’d forgotten she was holding from her hand.
“You have a lot of explaining to do, madam.”
Penelope registered the worry in his gaze and she forced herself to speak. “I — ” she cleared her throat and tried again. “I hit him with the book — ”
“I know.”
“He was going to take the boy — ”
“I know.”
She glared at him. “Then why are you asking me for explanations?”
“Are you all right, Penelope? He didn’t hurt you?”
“No,” she said, and then she remembered something. “Lucas, the pistol — ”
“Has been taken out of his hands,” he reassured her. “He was the boy’s nurse’s lover. They were going to take the Uffington child away and demand a ransom for him.”
She suddenly felt light-headed. “Then it’s fortunate I went into the wrong room.”
She cried out when Lucas grabbed her shoulder.
“Good God, you’ve been shot!”
“What?” She saw the blood on Lucas’s hand at the same time she felt warm liquid trickle down her arm. “Oh. You’re right.”
After that she had a vague awareness of Lucas sweeping her up into his arms as the world spun, coinciding with the severe pain in her shoulder. Everything seemed to slow down, and she realized she was going to faint mere seconds before darkness claimed her.
Chapter Fifteen
The news of Penelope’s attempt to save the Uffington heir had spread all over Town, and people who would not normally step into Lucas’s townhouse poured in to visit and express their concern. Penelope’s brave rescue of the little boy had made her an instant heroine among the females of the ton.
It was a damned nuisance.
But as the days of Penelope’s recuperation went by, Lucas realized she was not the only one who was being treated differently. People who had made it a point to avoid him, such as the Duke of Granderly, came to visit with his daughter, Lady Beatrice, in tow, not only to check up on Penelope but also to commend Lucas for the way he had saved his wife from the kidnapper.
He rarely left Penelope’s bedside. She hadn’t sustained a fatal injury, but the sight of her bleeding was something he would never forget. What had struck him most as he sat there by her bed was how small and vulnerable she appeared, engulfed in bed sheets with her shoulder swathed in bandages. He alternated between berating himself for failing to protect her at the Uffingtons’ and restraining the urge to shake her still form for once again plunging headfirst into a situation without thinking about the repercussions.
Trust Penelope to think of defending herself with a handful of books. The villain had probably been too far away to hit with her reticule. Once she was well enough, he would have a long talk with her about her impetuous nature. He did not want to go through the scare she’d given him ever again.
She could have died. Did she not consider what losing her would do to him? He couldn’t understand why the thought troubled him so, but there was one thing he could no longer deny: he cared about Penelope. In a way that surpassed duty.
He had never met anyone like her. She always put everyone else’s concerns above her own. Only Penelope would have dared to try to rescue a strange child from danger without thinking of her own safety. Most people would have run for help. Her utter disregard for herself made him feel quite selfish. And guilty. Because he, too, had taken advantage of Penelope’s selflessness.
“Butter the crumpets,” he muttered.
He was not going to be like his father. He would not allow his wife to matter so much to him that he forgot his duty and everyone else. Lucas was so engrossed in his internal turmoil, he didn’t realize Olivia had walked into the room until she spoke.
“How is she?” his sister asked.
He stretched his long legs out in front of him. The small chair he sat on was damned uncomfortable. It was a miracle the thing was able to hold his weight. “She’s still sleeping. The doctor said she will be fine in a few days.”
Olivia nodded. “Does this mean we will not be attending any more balls?”
He heard the disappointment in his sister’s voice. “I don’t see a reason for you to stop going to a few soirees while Penelope recuperates. At any rate, it shouldn’t take long for her to get back on her feet again.”
“Lucas, do you like being married?”
The question gave him pause. He hadn’t really given much thought to whether or not he liked being married. It was his duty, and as far as he was concerned, his feelings had nothing to do with it. But it was damned difficult trying to stay aloof from someone like Penelope. It was also, he was learning, quite pointless.
“It is not so bad,” he allowed.
Olivia sighed. “I am glad to know you will not be alone after I get married.”
“Have you set your cap on a particular gentleman?”
She blushed. “Why would you think that? I only meant I would marry someday, and I have been worried about leaving you alone.”
It had never occurred to him Olivia might be concerned about him. “Bloody hell. I am not an invalid, sister.”
Olivia made a helpless gesture. “I know, but you have devoted many years of your life to raising me, Lucas. Now that I’m grown, I was concerned you might get lonely after I marry. But now you have Penelope.”
He gazed at his sleeping wife and smiled. “Now I have Penelope.”
And he was going to make certain he never lost her.
• • •
A week later, Penelope looked down at the raucous crowd from the Ravenstone box at the Theatre Royal, watching the fascinating antics of the theatre patrons.
The dandies gathered below were putting on quite a show before the performance even began. Everyone who was anyone turned out to see Edmund Kean perform Othello. Moreover, she knew that Lucas suggested they attend tonight so the entire ton would see she was healthy and well.
“Everyone is expecting Kean to be at his best tonight,” Olivia remarked. “But I’d wager the actor is foxed again, as per usual.”
Penelope laughed. “I wonder which of his inner demons will come out to take a bow at the end of the performance.” She was in good spirits tonight, and her jovial mood had nothing to do with the anticipation of tonight’s play.
No, her happiness was due to the fact that she and Lucas had been getting along very well the past few days. He’d rarely left her side during her recovery; he’d read to her and made sure she ate enough and slept well. He took Nelson out on walks and even allowed the dog to sleep in the library.
He was proving to be a most devoted husband, and she suspected he was beginning to car
e for her. A part of her knew she shouldn’t be hoping too much, but she couldn’t help it. If people saw this tender side of Lucas, they would never believe him capable of the ruthless things they said he’d done. If he was merely doing his duty, then he was certainly enjoying it.
She heard a commotion behind her and knew it was another Society member who had entered their box to convey their relief that she’d recovered from her ordeal. It had been going on all night, and she was starting to feel like a restored historical artifact on display before the entire ton.
So her eyes widened in shock when she heard Lord Blakewood’s voice as he approached them.
“Good evening, ladies,” Blakewood said, though his eyes were on Olivia’s face. “I trust you have recovered from your recent ordeal, Lady Ravenstone?”
She looked pointedly first at Blakewood, and then at a blushing Olivia, then back at Blakewood. “How very kind of you, my lord. I am doing very well.”
“And you, Lady Olivia? Did you enjoy the book I recommended?”
Olivia batted her eyelashes. “I found it to be quite entertaining, my lord.”
Blakewood grinned in a boyish manner. “I knew you would be entertained.”
“It was very entertaining, my lord.”
Penelope unfurled her fan and waved it about quite vigorously while Blakewood and Olivia stretched a conversation about being entertained to the point of awkwardness. Olivia clearly had developed a tendre for the young man, and Blakewood seemed to return her affections.
In truth, she didn’t think Blakewood had any evil intentions toward Olivia. The young man seemed to be genuinely enamored of her sister-in-law.
Lucas would not be pleased.
She was proven correct when her husband entered the Ravenstone box. He ignored her warning glance and went straight for the young lord.
“Blakewood,” Lucas said in a challenging voice. “I am certain you will understand if I requested you not to linger. It is getting damned crowded in this box.”
Lord Blakewood reddened. “Not at all, my lord,” he muttered before bowing to the ladies and taking his leave.
Olivia glared at Lucas. “You didn’t have to be mean to him. He was behaving like a gentleman.”
“I told you to stay away from Blakewood.”
“But why? He has been nothing but kind to me since I met him.”
“I have my reasons,” Lucas muttered as he sat beside Penelope. “Now quit harping on about this subject. The performance is about to begin.”
The curtains went up, and silence went over the crowd. Penelope hardly noticed. She knew Lucas meant well, but as someone who had teenage siblings herself, she knew he was going about this all wrong.
“She likes him,” she whispered.
“Bloody hell, don’t you think I know that?” Lucas hissed back.
She waited another moment before continuing. “I think he is being genuine.”
Lucas snorted. “Ah. Apparently, you have become an expert on human psychology, and would now proceed to share your perceptive insights to your poor, beleaguered husband. What makes you think he is being genuine?”
“Because my teeth didn’t leave a dent on his words,” she quipped, resisting the urge to hit him with her fan. Really, did he have to be so condescending?
Lucas apparently didn’t find her remark so amusing, and he was quiet throughout the performance and on the way home. She let him wallow in his bad mood until later that evening, when she heard him prowling his bedchamber. She waited until he dismissed his valet, then she let herself in through the connecting door between their suites without knocking.
“We need to talk,” she said firmly, watching him pour a hefty measure of brandy into a glass.
Lucas turned to her, glass in hand. Even in his black silk dressing gown, he looked very male, powerful and intimidating. “I am not in the mood to talk, nymph.”
She gathered her courage and walked deeper into the big chamber, which was kept from being chilly by the enormous fireplace that blazed with flames.
“I know you do not approve of Blakewood,” she began, “but I must warn you nothing will be achieved by bullying your sister.”
The blaze in Lucas’s eyes put the flames in the hearth to shame. “You think I’m a bully?”
“What would you call yourself then, after that display in the theatre?”
His jaw clenched. “I would call myself a man who is doing his duty by his sister. Now, enough of this nonsense and get into bed.”
“Heavens above!” She almost stomped her foot in frustration. “I cannot believe a man who can casually quote Wordsworth would be concerned only with duty.”
“You’d better believe it because I am not going to change. Not for you or anyone.”
This wasn’t getting her anywhere. She had to find another way to reach him. “What about your sister? Is it not your duty to make sure she’s happy?”
Lucas tossed back healthy measure of brandy. “She will be happy if she stays away from Blakewood.”
“You are the most stubborn man I have ever known,” Penelope muttered. “Would it be so bad if Blakewood courted her? That man is not out for revenge. You, of all people, should understand that.”
He slammed his glass on the small table beside him. “I do not know what you mean.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “Blakewood must surely hate his father as much as you do your own.”
His jaw tightened. “Bloody hell! I don’t hate my father.”
“Do you not? He left you to deal with the duties he was too weak to face, the one person who should have taken care of you.” She walked to him and caressed his rigid cheek, her voice softened. “I know how you feel. I, too, had a father who never faced up to his responsibilities. I kept wondering why he was never home, why I wasn’t good enough for him to want to watch me grow up.”
“Penelope — ”
“I wasn’t born a boy, but I was useful in my own way. I could be traded for an opportunity to merge with the Ravenstone fortune.”
“Sweetheart, stop.”
“When he did come home, he never asked about me. He didn’t want to see how I was doing with my studies. He just went straight to my nurse and cheated on my mother. I wasn’t anything but useful to him until the day he died.”
Lucas pulled her to him. “Oh, sweetheart … ”
The tears she’d been holding inside her for so long started to fall in big, fat drops. “I loved him so much, but I was never enough for him. I wasn’t enough to make him want to behave decently. I wasn’t enough … ”
• • •
Lucas roved his hands over her back in a helpless gesture of comfort. “Hush, sweetheart. No more.”
He kissed her fragrant hair, hating himself. In all the time he’d known her, he’d never seen her cry. Not when her stepfather’s creditors had insulted her or when her uncle had rejected her or even when she’d been shot. She was crying in earnest now, and his heart ached for the heartbroken little girl she had been.
It was the first time she’d confided in him. Furthermore, it occurred to him as he held her that he felt closer to Penelope in that moment than he ever had with anyone in his life. It made him want to tell her things he’d never told anyone.
“Sometimes, Penelope, it is not us who are lacking. It is the people around us.”
She lifted her head and raised wet, hazel eyes to his. “What do you mean?”
“I was the one who found my father right after he shot himself in our hunting lodge.”
Her pink lips parted, but she remained silent.
“Up until that moment, I thought he was everything I wanted to be — loving, dependable and caring toward his tenants.”
He shook his head. “But he took the easy way out and left a boy of sixteen to deal
with the mess he left behind. He didn’t even think to leave a note to tell me where to begin.”
He cupped her soft cheeks in his large hands, his thumbs rubbing away the tears. “If I seem like a bully, it is only because I want Olivia to be able to depend on me to do my duty. I do not want to let her down as our father did.”
“Your sister loves you very much, Lucas.”
He emitted a laughing groan. “I don’t think she loves me very much at the moment.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “How could you ever doubt Olivia’s devotion? Any woman who spends any amount of time with you knows how easy it is to love you. I, myself, had forgotten over the years. Yet all you had to do was show up in that country inn, and I fell in love with you all over again.”
It seemed to Lucas that the night suddenly became more vibrant, more vivid. The burgundy silk coverlet on his enormous bed looked more inviting, the fire in the hearth blazed just a little higher, and the stars outside shone a little brighter.
Penelope loved him.
Her declaration affected him so fiercely, he couldn’t breathe for an instant.
“You love me?”
She gave him a teary smile. “Of course. Why do you think I married you?”
“Your stepfather found my coat in your bedchamber — ”
“Please.” She waved a dismissing hand. “If I told Papa I didn’t want to marry you, he wouldn’t have pushed the issue.”
He stared at her in wonderment. “You love me.”
“Why do you look so surprised? Goodness, what do you think was the reason I let you kiss me that first day at the inn, or touch me during our picnic, or — ”
He never let her finish. His mouth claimed hers in a kiss of tender possession, drinking in her sweetness while his large hands memorized her luscious form, molding her soft, delectable body to his hard length.
Chapter Sixteen
Judging from his kiss, Lucas liked hearing she loved him. Relieved, Penelope kissed him back, reveling in the groan that tore from his chest as she slid her tongue between his lips to taste the contours of his mouth. There was something different about Lucas’s lovemaking tonight. She felt it in the almost reverent way he touched her.