A small gathering came toward them when the trio entered the large parlor. Twenty? No, there were more than thirty guests in attendance, some men, mostly ladies, so many more people than Penny had expected. A rumble of conversation filled the parlor, accompanied by the background music from the musicians sitting before a half dozen long windows.
“We’re offering a little refreshment before our concert.” Mrs. Halifax gestured toward the far end of the room where seated guests enjoyed tea, biscuits, and small cakes. “You will allow me to make you known to some of our guests, will you not? They are most anxious to meet you.”
Penny acquiesced and allowed Mrs. Halifax to usher her about. The first group consisted of a quartet of older ladies, Mrs. Underhill, Mrs. Winslow, Miss Easton, and Miss Tollemache.
“This is Mrs. Cavanaugh. She is Lucinda’s David’s wife.” There were oohs and nods of understanding followed by an exchange of a few words before Mrs. Halifax moved Penny to the next waiting set.
“Lady Kirby and Mrs. Roscoe-Jones are great friends of my sister, Mrs. Dunhurst. They spend a great deal of time in Town,” Mrs. Halifax whispered to Penny, which caused some trepidation. The hostess remarked to the new acquaintances, “Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh reside in London, you know.”
David soon joined them. The ladies, who had not previously met him, were very happy to make his acquaintance. They thought it a shame they had no London friends in common. Penny believed David did not share their disappointment.
Next a Mrs. Lathrop distracted David long enough for Mrs. Halifax to present Penny to Mrs. Ross and her mother, Mrs. Blackburn.
“As I understand, the children you’ve brought to the Willows are . . .” An expression of confusion clouded Mrs. Blackburn’s face.
“Well, they are not hers,” Mrs. Ross corrected her mother. “I think I heard they are . . . a niece and nephew, are they not?”
“The children?” Penny mouthed the words. How could these women possibly know? There was silence. The background music that had lingered was now absent. She had no idea when the musicians had stopped playing.
“It matters very little how they are related—Lucinda is enjoying their company enormously!” Mrs. Halifax declared in high spirits. Mrs. Roscoe-Jones approached and murmured to the hostess. “Yes, yes. I understand. Come now, my dears. We all must be seated. Elinor is ready to begin. We’d best not keep her waiting. Mr. Halifax—” She waved at her husband to aid her.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Halifax said in a loud voice, gaining everyone’s attention. “I believe we are ready to begin. If you would all be so kind as to take your seats.” He made his way to the top of the room and moved toward his wife in the front row, finally settling in his own seat.
David sat next to Penny across the narrow aisle from the hosts. The musicians, already in place, waited for the first performer, Miss Harrison, who, in a fine, clear voice, warbled a country song. David managed to tolerate the simple tune and found it not in the least offensive to his ears.
Miss Harrison was followed by a tenor, Mr. Pole, attempting the more ambitious Handel’s “Svegliatevi nel core” from Giulio Cesare. This was more of a trial for David. The role was written for a castrato and usually sung by a mezzo-soprano. Despite the issues David noted, the audience quite enjoyed the performance. And, David admitted, the young man did an admirable job.
As the featured performer took her position, David shifted in his chair, resting one hand on his knee. The music began and she started. Mrs. Dunhurst managed to warble adequately. Then she rhythmically stumbled during the coloratura section, faltering as she climbed toward the higher notes, not managing to reach each one precisely. Every third note was slightly flat, every fifth a bit sharp, making him uncomfortable.
Listening to this was becoming quite painful, but he would not outwardly show his displeasure. David had vowed to endure this torture no matter what.
With a gentle lean in his direction Penny whispered, “Have strength, sir.” They were the same words he had said to her when they entered the premises.
She gently placed her hand over his. David had not realized his fingers had grasped his knee so tightly his knuckles began to turn white. Apparently she had noticed his distress, and to him her message was clear. She had hoped to disguise his discomfort to the hosts, to the other guests, and to the performer standing before them.
The music, the singing, that woman’s singing, continued on forever. Somehow Penny’s hand resting on his, distracting him, made the torment of Mrs. Dunhurst’s performance tolerable. Yes, she sang abominably, but the entire experience had altered from horrendous to very, very pleasant.
He dare not look directly at the woman next to him. David had the strangest urge to admire the face he had gazed upon in the candlelight while he sketched. He recalled how he had studied the set of her eyes, her adorable nose, and the fullness of her lips. If he had the opportunity to draw her again, David reflected, he would not add the dimple. She was perfection itself.
He wanted to take her small, comforting hand into his and tell her how much he admired and adored her. He debated the question and finally decided not to upset the calm of the musical performance, such as it was, not to mention shock Mrs. Dunhurst, by uttering words of love to Penny right there!
The final ending chords sounded, and “Queen of the Night” had ended. Applause followed. Whatever magic spell had engulfed him had been broken. David blinked and immediately followed suit, as did Penny, both clapping with the other guests.
Mrs. Dunhurst bowed, relishing her accolades. She then focused upon David and made as if she were approaching him. “Are those tears? Sir, are you quite all right?”
Penny stared at him as if something was amiss.
“I am so very grateful it is over,” he managed to whisper. David blinked back the excess of moisture in his eyes and cleared his throat. The welling of emotion had nothing to do with Mrs. Dunhurst’s performance and everything to do with his newly realized affection for Penny.
Mrs. Halifax rushed toward David. “Oh, see how you have moved Mr. Cavanaugh, Elinor!”
“This is not the first time I have elicited this type of response,” Mrs. Dunhurst replied rather modestly.
“Understandable, dear lady, quite understandable.” David drew a handkerchief from his coat pocket and pressed it to his nose. He was not about to inform anyone that the physical reaction displayed to all and his opinion of Mrs. Dunhurst’s performance had nothing to do with the other. “Your rendition is nothing I have heard before.”
“Not even in London?” Mrs. Halifax inquired, looking somewhat taken aback.
“I think not,” he replied. “You possess a talent that is quite unequaled, even in Town.”
The surrounding guests could only react in amazement of David’s high praise. Whispers of the glorious performance they’d all just witnessed circulated around the room.
“It is impossible. No, I dare not even attempt to measure your performance. There are no words . . . it was simply indescribable.”
These last words from David were of such high acclaim even Mrs. Dunhurst could not help but blush. “I vow my grandmother will truly regret missing this afternoon’s performance, but it was not a choice for her to make.”
“Oh, sir. Sir, truly, you are too kind, much too kind, indeed,” Mrs. Dunhurst trilled with musical accents. “A lady always appreciates praise from a true gentleman of culture and good taste.”
“You should not think of me in such terms. I daresay I do not deserve it.” David bowed over her hand and out of the corner of his eye glanced at Penny and winked.
Chapter Nineteen
Penny stepped inside the carriage and, arranging the skirts of her dress and pelisse, sat on the rear bench facing forward. David soon entered and eased onto the opposite seat, facing Penny. He rapped the ceiling of the carriage with the top of his cane, signaling the driver t
o put the horses to.
Once the transport lurched into motion he began. “Well?” David intoned in a manner that required a response of some sort, perhaps a word of approval from her? “I have done my duty and attended the musical party just as Gran wanted. That was . . .” He paused and looked upward, apparently searching, carefully choosing the correct words. “Barely tolerable and, hopefully, not to be endured again. Dare I say it, but my performance might have been better than that of Mrs. Dunhurst.”
“I’m afraid I would have to agree. It could have been a bit more . . .” Penny, too, seemed to be searching for just the right word.
“On key?” he suggested, and they both chuckled. “All those things I said in there, to those people.” He nodded his beaver-topped head, referring to the gathering they had just left. “I meant it, every word.”
“And you were very diplomatic about it. You never said anything unpleasant to anyone.” Penny leaned forward and smiled. “You have kept your promise, sir, which could not have pleased me more.”
“At times it was not easy,” he replied. If he came across a bit self-satisfied, Penny told herself, he had every right to do so. “I must admit I have learned something from you in these last weeks.”
“Have you?” Penny could not imagine what he meant. Manners? Etiquette? David knew exactly how to conduct himself in public. He did not need her to set an example.
Any arrogance he had displayed vanished, and his expression softened to one of resignation. He removed his hat and set it next to him. “I do not know how I could have been so thick. It has taken me—” He glanced away briefly. Was he searching for the correct words yet again? Whilst the carriage moved, David rose from the opposite bench and reseated himself next to her with practiced ease.
“What are you doing?” Penny could not easily move to her left and merely leaned backward rather awkwardly, making as much room for him as possible.
“I wish to speak—I do not care to be overheard,” he corrected himself. His voice was soft, and Penny had to tilt her head toward him to hear him properly.
“Who do you expect can hear you?” she remarked rather sharply. He had always made much too much of being spied upon. It was no matter that his fear had ultimately proved to be correct. But now, in a moving carriage, with the noises of the jingling, harnessed horses clopping down the road . . . no one could possibly overhear a conversation of the passengers within. “We are quite alone except for the driver, who sits atop the carriage and, I expect, is fully occupied with his horses.”
“What I have to say is not meant for his ears.” David’s voice had not altered, keeping as soft as ever, making the need for Penny to remain close to him if she wished to hear his words.
“It would be impossible for him to eavesdrop even if he wished.” Penny expected her opinion would not matter in the least. David’s proximity made her a bit uneasy. “You may return to your seat, if you please. I assure you, whatever you have to say will be quite private.”
David ignored her and touched the ruffled edge of her lace cap, peeking out from under her straw bonnet. “Why do you wear this?” It was perfectly understood by Penny that he was not fond of the cap.
“I’ve worn a lace cap since I married,” she replied, “and have continued to do so after I was widowed. Since I am portraying a married lady, it remains an appropriate mode of dress.”
“Not being female, nor having close contact with one, I never knew exactly what the rule was. I thought only old ladies wore them.” He eyed the edge of the ruffle and then the cap before glancing at her, meeting her gaze only momentarily.
“It is not so much a rule as a custom.” All this talk of caps and customs felt very awkward. What was he going on about? As close as he sat to her, he felt as if he had somehow moved closer. He was much, much too near. “I beg that you do not look at me in that manner, sir.”
“In what manner is that?” He still had not altered his position, and she could feel his warm breath upon her cheek.
“If you had any type of regard for me, you might be so good as to behave with propriety when we are alone.” If he depended on Penny to explain customs and unwritten rules, she might as well point that out. “In any normal circumstance, two unmarried persons sharing a closed carriage would be quite a scandal and cause people to talk.”
“Did you not just tell me there was no one around except the driver? And he is, by your own admission, currently occupied.” David was not arguing, merely turning her words. “I doubt he will notice our behavior.”
“There were people who watched us board the closed carriage,” she was quick to point out.
“Ah, but those people believe we are married and cannot think there is anything untoward.”
Why did he insist on carrying on in such a maddening fashion? Penny would never allow him any type of liberties because of their presumed positions. And she would never tolerate such actions merely because of any warm feelings she harbored for him. She thought too highly of herself.
“Our situation, of which they know nothing, breeds an unwarranted intimacy. Neither of us should mistake it for any sort of genuine affection. If it were not for your friendship with my nephew, we would not have forged this family of yours and, as such, would have remained mere acquaintances.”
“That would have been very unfortunate for me. I can honestly say that I am a better person because of our present situation.” There was a bit of awkwardness in his speech. It was as if this was something he had not rehearsed. “We are not quite friends, but we do share a camaraderie of sorts. Bound in deceit, may I say?”
“That is not a compliment.” Penny would always feel guilt when she recalled these last few weeks: her participation in the deception to everyone she met in Dorset and persuading the children to play along with the sham as well.
As if that were not enough, Penny had to restrain herself from falling victim to the lie she perpetuated. It almost felt real. She was not married and David was not her husband. It was a circumstance she could all too easily allow herself to believe.
“Perhaps not. I do not wish to offend you, but you have been much more than merely a conspirator, a companion, or a confidant. I have learned much about myself during our time together. I now know why all those years of attending society parties and courting gels from Almack’s has not come close to discovering anyone I would consider making my wife.”
Actually, Penny found that bit quite interesting. Had he really come to that realization because of her? Perhaps he could find it in himself to marry and have the family his grandmother had always wished. How he would explain the absence of Caroline, Lucy, and Davy, she did not know, but she could imagine he would have no trouble dreaming up another Banbury tale to explain the change in his family circumstance.
“I am no longer a young man who wants no more from a girl than a pretty face and an empty head. Actually, I find that I do not have any interest in girls at all. What, who, rather, I should have been searching for is a woman. A lady who has substance and a strong character that only develops over time. No young miss could possibly hold my interest—”
“Stop, please.” Penny found her breathing had become labored. What was the meaning of this? Why tell her? She did not wish to hear any more. “You must not say any of this.”
“Do you mean to tell me I do not know my own mind?” David, driven by some passion to speak that Penny had never encountered from him before, would not allow the matter to wane. “I must wholly disagree, madam. For the first time in my life I have direction and know exactly what I am about.”
“I commend you on your newfound knowledge, sir. I am certain that proclamation will be a comfort to your grandmother. It is most improper to speak of such things.” Particularly to me, was what she meant.
“I beg to differ. You are precisely the person to whom I should be confessing my most inner thoughts and feelings.”
&nb
sp; “You are incorrect.” She placed her hands upon his chest to push him away.
“If not you, my trusted ally, then who?” he replied.
He leaned toward her, and she knew he meant to kiss her.
Penny slowly turned her face away, to instead offer him her cheek, but she did not lower her eyelids in time, glimpsing the shadow they cast on the wall of the carriage. Their dual silhouettes distracted her just long enough for David to close the space that separated them.
She felt his warm breath against her cheek once again before she felt the touch of David’s lips upon hers. Penny stopped thinking and her mind drifted peacefully away.
Her lips were warm and soft. Sweet, but they held no flavor. David had never experienced a kiss quite like this one. It wasn’t the actual meeting of their lips but what the intimate contact meant to him.
When they parted, she said nothing. Neither did he. It was a wonderful kiss. It made him feel alive and left him breathless. Penny hadn’t slapped him or called him a cad for taking such liberties. David half expected she might have felt the same as he, but there was no indication that she had. He then returned to the opposite bench in silence.
Perhaps he should not have done it. It had been only a kiss, a brief, chaste, and very nice expression of his affection. He hadn’t intended to do it, but somehow, in that moment, it just seemed right.
She remained quiet. He tried to look at her. An awkward moment followed. Now he felt as if it were wrong to kiss her. Did he need to apologize? No, he had nothing to feel sorry about. Actually, he was ready to do it again.
What bothered him was her reaction, or to be precise, her lack of one. The longer the silence stretched, the more David began to doubt his action. He should not have kissed Penny, and her manners forbade her to tell him.
Good God, what had he done?
Would she despise him now? Never speak to him again? David did not want that. He was such an idiot! Could he not do anything right?
They remained quiet for the short interval of the journey home. Upon arrival at the Willows, David exited the carriage first and offered to help Penny disembark. He was glad to take hold of her shaking hand and hoped she would not notice his did the same. It was good to know their kiss had affected them equally. What was the purpose of keeping quiet? Why did she not say something to him?
An Elaborate Hoax (A Gentlemen of Worth Book 5) Page 20