In the far corner, there was a bubbling fountain that formed some kind of waterfall and ended in a pool filled with floating lilies. Penny had heard someone whisper that the infamous Duke of Enwright, an occasional inventor of things, had devised some sort of pump system that allowed the water to circulate back through the fountain and had, in recent months, managed to make it small enough so that indoor fountains like this one could be added as décor to conservatories, orangeries, and other private gardens in noble houses. Or, in this case, as a party decoration, though it did seem to fit the occasion rather well.
Additionally, lengths of what looked like silk and chiffon in the colors of a lush sunset were suspended overhead. The fabrics must have contained either gold threads or tiny spangles had been somehow woven into them, for they shimmered and reflected the candlelight from the enormous chandelier hanging high overhead. All of it reminded Penny of a painting she had seen of a Chinese garden years before, and she loved everything about this room.
It was also the loveliest and most extravagant setting she had seen recently. In fact, this ballroom looked like something directly out of a fairy tale.
Penny had read accounts in the gossip rags that a year ago, this entire ballroom had been filled to the brim with bright blues, verdant greens, and lush pinks, as well as tropical plants and flowers, making it appear like a West Indies paradise. She thought she remembered that had all been part of Lord Chillton’s attempt to woo, Lady Lavinia, the woman who was now his viscountess. The woman that he would stop at nothing to possess as his own, or so the rumors went.
Like most of the couples Penny had encountered in London, Frost and Lavinia had endured a rough start to their relationship, only to end up as a true love match. The story of this ballroom – and how it had been so ostentatiously redone as a rather public promise to his soon-to-be-wife that one day, Frost would whisk Lavinia away to that foreign land on a grand tour – was yet another example of the differences between Penny’s world and the one these people inhabited.
People like Harry who, though he lacked a title, were still part of that same tight-knit, intimate group.
Penny wasn’t a part of that group, no matter what Julia and Eliza said. She simply wasn’t and she rather doubted that she would ever be. Even though she wanted to be – but only if she was at Harry’s side. And only if he loved her.
“There’s no need to fear, sweetheart. I’m here with you, as are my friends. You’re not alone. Not any longer.” Harry had taken Penny’s silence as a sign of fear. She wasn’t afraid. She was merely extremely worried about what came next.
“I haven’t seen my uncle in some time.” That was a safe enough topic, she supposed, as well as the one most likely on everyone’s mind. “I am quite certain that he is furious with me. After all, I haven’t been able to trap Lord Fullbridge into marrying me. Difficult, you see, when he isn’t even in London.”
Harry snorted with laughter. “And there is the Penny I know. For surely you are jesting about the whole Fullbridge business. Aren’t you?”
“I am.” Penny smiled a little and gently squeezed Harry’s arm as he escorted her deeper into the ballroom. “I could no more look at Lord Fullbridge now than I could any other man. Right now, I only see you.” She wanted to confess everything just then and hope that it made a difference to him, even a tiny one. She wanted to tell Harry that she loved him and hoped that he loved her in return.
But now was not the time to be emotional, so confessions of the heart would have to wait. Right now they had far more pressing matters to deal with. Namely her uncle and his likely appearance at this ball.
“That is exactly what I wanted to hear.” Harry patted Penny’s hand but he did so rather absently, as if he was reciting well-memorized lines or simply saying what he thought she wished to hear.
Which, in Penny’s experience, meant that this was still all a game to him. A game he intended to win, certainly, but a game where the playing pieces would be discarded shortly after the game ended. Including her.
Despite all of that, Penny pasted on one of her false smiles and hoped he couldn’t tell the difference between this one and one of her real ones. This sort of deception had been unnecessary for some time now. After all, when she was with Harry, Penny’s smiles were always genuine. But not tonight. Tonight there was too much fear and uncertainty lurking inside of her.
“Do you think we will have to wait long for my uncle to arrive?” Penny glanced around nervously, hating how her uncle’s appearance would likely spoil the lovely magic of this ballroom.
“Not so very long.” With a hand at the small of her back, Harry turned her so that she was now facing the staircase that led down to the ballroom floor below.
There at the very top of the stairs, with her cousin, Josie, trailing helplessly behind, was Penny’s Uncle Charles. And he was staring right at her with something close to pure fury burning in his eyes.
“Steady on, sweetheart,” Harry whispered in Penny’s ear when she stiffened at the sight of the man who had made her life miserable for so long. “I’m here. We all are. We will not let him have you.”
Which was true enough, Penny supposed, and she could trust in that at least, if nothing else. Around the ballroom, she could see many of the ladies and gentleman that she had come to know well during her short time in London. Some she knew better than others, Penny supposed, but she could still recognize just about everyone. Actually, so very many people that she knew – including Eliza and the Bloody Duke, to Lord and Lady Hallstone, to the Earl of Covington and his countess, Jane – were scattered about Frost’s ballroom. Almost like sentries.
And suddenly, Penny didn’t feel quite so alone as she had only moments before.
Perhaps white knights did exist after all.
Even if said knight didn’t love her.
Still cautious, Penny watched in guarded silence as her uncle and Josie were announced and the two of them made their way down the stairs, across the room, and directly to where Penny and Harry were standing.
“Niece.” Her uncle’s single word was clipped and full of anger. “You disappoint me.”
When Penny would have responded, suddenly, Julia’s husband, Benjamin, was there, inserting himself between Harry and Penny and her uncle.
“Not the done thing, old chap.” Which was something of a joke, as everyone always kidded Lord Radcliffe about his “advanced years” even though he was not so very old in reality and actually a bit younger than Harry. “This is London. Not Cumbria. Here we exchange a few pleasantries first before we conduct business. Even unpleasant business.”
Benjamin’s words were cordial enough but Penny could see a glint of anger in the duke’s eyes. And he was angry. Then again, Fullbridge was his friend, too, so he had every right to be.
“And you are?” Her uncle cloaked himself in his superior air that worked so well for him back in Sharpe-on-Edgecombe, but would do very little to assist him here. Especially in a ballroom full of powerful men. Men with more power and far greater titles than her uncle could ever hope to obtain.
Benjamin gave a rather dry laugh and inclined his head. “Oh, you are a humorous one.” Though nothing about Ben’s demeanor indicated that he was amused at all. “I am Lord Benjamin Sinclair, the Duke of Radcliffe.” He arched a single eyebrow. “And you are? I’m afraid I missed your introduction. Duke business and all of that, you know.”
Ben was much taller than Penny’s uncle, so he could look down his nose in obvious distaste at the other man. Not to mention that his set-down would have already brought a less arrogant man to his knees.
“Your grace. My apologies.” Penny’s uncle was nothing but groveling apologies now, though he refused to back down completely. “I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t.” That came from Lord Hallstone and was said in a very thick Scottish accent, one which conveniently appeared only when Lachlan was trying to make someone nervous. Or threaten them. In this case, Penny suspected it was a bit of bo
th. “But you really should have. Especially when you just bloody well marched in here as if you owned the place and threatened a young woman we have all come to be rather fond of recently.”
The marquess cast a warm smile in Penny’s direction, and she returned it with a weak one of her own. Still, it was heart-warming to know that she had friends here. Not to mention support.
“Fond? Of this empty-headed chit who cannot follow the simplest of instructions?” It was clear to Penny that her uncle’s anger exceeded even what she had anticipated, for Lachlan, Lord Hallstone, had warned Uncle Charles to mind his tongue not more than ten seconds ago and already, he was forgetting himself.
“Fond. Yes, indeed. Very fond.” Leaning on his cane in what could only be described as a rakish and vaguely threatening manner, Marcus now appeared beside Penny. He was wearing his eye patch this evening – something he did not need but rather wore mostly for his own amusement – and he did look rather threatening, not to mention vaguely like a pirate or privateer. “Mostly our wives are fond of her, but” Marcus shrugged far too carelessly, and all of the sudden, Penny had the impression that he was just as dangerous as the rest of these men despite his infirmity, “then we are all very fond of our wives and strive to keep them happy. Thus, if they are fond of Lady Penny, then so are we.”
There was a rather vague and implied threat tacked on at the end, though Penny couldn’t be certain what Marcus meant exactly. Rather, she was more interested in Lady Amy Blackwell, Viscountess Ardenton – and a woman Penny had only met briefly in passing – quickly hustling Josie away from the small group of people at the foot of the stairs and into an alcove on the other side of the ballroom.
With her cousin safely out of harm’s way and well beyond her uncle’s reach, Penny turned her full attention back to the scene unfolding before her.
Undeterred, Penny’s uncle scoffed at Marcus. “Then you do not know my niece very well if you and your wives are fond of her in any fashion. She is willful, stubborn, obstinate, and temperamental. She refuses to obey even the simplest of orders and often needs a firmly corrective hand, if you take my meaning. She is hardly what I would call ‘fit for Society.’ Fit only for the corrective ladies’ school I sent her to for a time back home, if you ask me.”
“Then it seems as if you don’t know your ward very well at all.” That came from the Bloody Duke who was somehow now leaning rather nonchalantly against a nearby wall. Penny wasn’t quite certain how he had come to be there, as she hadn’t seen him approach. But there he was and he looked rather…large. Not to mention quite dangerous. And more than a little annoyed.
“Oh, and the gentlemen of London don’t discipline their wives. Just so you know.” The duke yawned as if he was utterly bored. In Penny’s experience, that was when the man was at his most dangerous and she shrank back into Harry’s side just a little more, gratified when his arm came around her waist. “We like our favorite appendage firmly attached to our bodies, thank you very much.” Then his gazed darkened. “We also know how to properly treat ladies. As such, we do not whip them.”
For a brief moment, her uncle hesitated and Penny swore she could feel the sting of the whip on her shoulders again. Without thinking, she reached for Harry’s hand, gratified when he laced his fingers tightly through hers, no matter how inappropriate the gesture of comfort was.
“The stubborn chit is my ward and I shall do with her as I please!” the earl thundered, working himself up into full bluster – something Penny had witnessed countless times before. “More to the point, she has disobeyed me!”
“You mean because she was attracted to me and refused to seduce Lord Fullbridge as you ordered?” To Penny’s surprise, Harry spoke up in her defense. She hadn’t been certain he would. Then again, she still didn’t know what game he was playing either.
“How did you know that?” her uncle hissed as he spun around to face them. Penny wanted nothing more than to shrink back in fear. “You can’t know that! And besides, there is no law against sending a lovely young woman to London to fetch herself a husband!”
The duke yawned again, rather loudly this time, drawing Uncle Charles’ attention back to him. “There is when you plan to use her to hurt that same man and humiliate him. A man that I just happen to call a friend.” Once more, the duke skewered her uncle with a dark look and Penny thought Uncle Charles would be wise to exercise a good amount of caution just then. Though he never would. He still thought himself better than all of these men combined. “And when you use threats of violence toward your own daughter in order to force your ward to agree to go along with what has to be the most asinine plan I’ve ever heard. Really, Telford? After all these years spent planning your revenge, this is the best plan you could come up with? It is pathetic. Truly. And do not even get me started on those inept spies that you hired! The lot of them couldn’t even find a cow in a wide-open pasture if not for my men and myself directing them where to go! Which I will expect reimbursement for, of course. Paying off your idiots wasn’t cheap, let me assure you. I think handing your daughter over to me and my wife for safekeeping should pay up your account in full, however.”
The earl spun around wildly, as if it had finally dawned on him that Josie hadn’t uttered a word in the last few minutes.
“Where is my daughter?” he growled, his fists clenched. “I demand that you return her to me right this instant! I shall have you all arrested for kidnapping, you bloody bastard!”
That made everyone in the little group laugh as if it was the funniest thing they had ever heard.
“Oh, you are a clever one, aren’t you? Bloody bastard, indeed! What a way with words! And arrested? Really? You do know that Harry here is with Bow Street, don’t you?” Marcus asked, lifting up his eye patch to wipe away the tears.
“Who in his right mind would arrest the Bloody Duke?” Radcliffe chimed in when he finally caught his breath from laughing so hard. “I’d rather have my bollocks sawed off, and I was the man stupid enough and in love enough to risk his wrath when I wanted to marry his sister!”
Hallstone reached over and slapped Marcus on the arm before he gestured toward Penny’s uncle. “He still thinks he’s in control here. Charming little bastard, isn’t he?”
“Actually, I am the one in control here.” The men’s laughter died as Frost approached with his wife and it was, surprisingly, Lavinia who had spoken and silenced them all. “Nicholas, dear, you know I adore you with all that I am, but please don’t spill blood on my carpets again. They’re new and I’d like them to last at least another Season. Perhaps two.”
There was that reference to blood on the carpets again, making Penny wonder just what had occurred in the past to make that a point of reference they all understood.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.” Nick bowed low over Lavinia’s hand and kissed the back of it, a perfect picture of gallant and proper behavior. “I promise you, I will not spill any blood in any location that cannot easily be cleaned up. You have my word as a gentleman and on my honor as a duke.” He gave Penny’s uncle a rather nasty grin as he said that last part, and from the expression on her uncle’s face, Penny wondered if it was finally sinking in to Uncle Charles that he wasn’t in control here. The Bloody Duke and his friends were.
“Now, where were we?” Nick continued as he released Lavinia’s hand and Frost led his wife away from the knot of people, seemingly not caring that all activity in the ballroom had ceased and every eye in the room was on them. “Oh, yes. Harry and Lady Penny and their ill-advised, but still absolutely charming, not to mention heart-warming romance.”
Beside Penny, Harry growled. “Nick. Now is not the time.”
“I don’t see why not?” the duke replied with a chuckle. “That is the issue at the very heart of this matter, isn’t it? You have fallen head over heels for the delectable lady in question and, well, even if you’ve not a mind to marry her just yet, I assume there is, at the very least, deep affection between the two of you so…”
Harry didn’t plan to marry her and that was, unfortunately, the only possible future she could see for the two of them. For Penny refused to become Harry’s whore or mistress. She would not stand idly by while he married another, far more suitable lady, for after this evening Penny’s reputation would be in ruins if it wasn’t already. With his new title, Harry could afford to be choosy when selecting a bride. While he might take his pleasure in Penny’s body now, if there was only affection between them and no hope of anything more, that wasn’t enough. Not for her.
Affection wasn’t love and, though Penny was hardly in a position to be choosy either, she knew now that she would accept nothing less. Nor would she accept anything less than marriage and, had Harry planned on marrying her, he likely would have said something just then.
That he hadn’t spoke far more than any words ever could.
Her dream was over. There was no white knight. But the dragon still had to be slain first before she could truly be free. Which meant that Penny could do nothing more than wait exactly where she was for the moment. And suffer in silence all the while.
“So you see there, Telford?” The duke gave the earl another nasty look and for the first time, Penny’s uncle blanched a bit. “She has made her choice. Harry has made his. And you, I am afraid, are the odd man out, wouldn’t you agree?”
“No, I would not!” As Penny had expected, her uncle was attempting to turn the situation back to his advantage even to the very end. “If she will not marry Fullbridge then my daughter Josie will and she will be the means to his destruction! He killed my daughter! He all but murdered her!”
A Lady for the Taking Page 28