Love for all Seasons

by Knight-Catania, Jerrica

  With a sigh, Penny plopped onto the edge of the bed and put her face in her hands. “What am I going to do?” she cried, praying that Louisa would have sage advice for her.

  The bed sagged a bit more as Louisa sat down beside her. A comforting arm came around Penny’s shoulder and pulled her close. Louisa was going to be a wonderful mother, with her soothing embrace and shoulder that she didn’t mind having soaked with tears.

  “I can’t tell you what to do, dearest,” Louisa said quietly. “But I do know you’re smart and strong, if not a bit impulsive.”

  Penny couldn’t help but laugh through her tears. “More than a bit, perhaps.” She pulled away to dry her tears on her sleeve. “But I love him, Louisa. I know that seems impossible, but I do.”

  “It doesn’t seem impossible at all,” her sister-in-law replied with a sweet smile.

  “Devlin thinks so.”

  Louisa reached out and took her hand. “Devlin has had a great deal of responsibility thrust upon him in a very short amount of time. Sometimes we must look at situations from the perspective of others to truly understand why things are the way they are.”

  Penny wasn’t so sure. “I could never look at things with the same boorishness that he looks at them.”

  “And I wouldn’t want you to,” Louisa assured her. “But he’s doing the best he knows how. He never expected to take over the title, let alone the responsibilities that came with looking after three young, unmarried women.”

  Louisa was right, of course. Perhaps she’d not given Devlin the credit he deserved in all of this. The year’s events had been hard on all of them, and while Penny had taken the opportunity to mourn and to run away from social events when her emotions overtook her, Devlin didn’t have that same luxury. He had to be strong, no matter what. He had to fulfill his duties, come what may. Perhaps deep down he was hurting too, though Penny hoped Louisa had been a balm for his soul, if so.

  “You’re right,” Penny said at long last. “I shall endeavor to be more forgiving of my overbearing brother. But what shall I do about Drake? And Clarisse? I know nothing about what it means to be a mother.”

  “Oh, Penny!” Louisa said, a wide smile coming to her face. “You don’t have to know how to be a mother. You know how to be a friend and a sister, and those things are far more important in this situation. You’re not here to replace her mother. You’re here to be a companion to her father, to turn this house into a true home, filled with laughter and gaiety. You will be brilliant at that, I just know it.”

  Penny’s heart flooded with relief as she sorted through all that Louisa was trying to say to her. In the end, it all made sense, both to her heart and her mind. Perhaps she could make the most of living in this house and having a stepdaughter so near her age.

  However, the one thing she still struggled with was the fact that Drake had so blatantly lied to her. How could he have let them get this far without ever mentioning a word about his daughter? Did he trust her so little that he thought she’d run away if she found out?

  Were all men so foolish?

  “Why don’t you have a little rest?” Louisa suggested, rising from the bed and turning down the covers. “You’ve had a very taxing journey, and we wouldn’t want you to get overset with all this emotion.”

  Penny had to admit, the pillows looked rather welcoming at the moment. And sleeping would let her escape for just a while from this bizarre predicament. Maybe she’d get her answers in a dream, even. It was silly, but she had nothing but hope right now, so she would cling to it like a bulwark.

  “Thank you, Louisa,” she said once she was tucked snuggly under the covers. “For everything.”

  If Louisa replied, Penny didn’t hear it. She was far too weary to keep her eyes open another moment.

  “I didn’t do this on purpose,” Drake said for what must have been the hundredth time.

  “On purpose or not, you’ve known my sister an entire week—enough time to know you wanted to marry her—yet somehow you couldn’t find a single moment to mention you had a nearly grown daughter.”

  Drake stopped his pacing and planted his fists on the desk with a weary sigh. They’d been around and around the topic, over and over, and Drake’s head was nearly ready to explode. He was tired, frustrated. Self-loathing didn’t even begin to describe how he felt about his own person. Mostly he just wanted to see his wife. To make sure she was all right. To see in her eyes whether or not there was hope for them.

  Unfortunately, Devlin wouldn’t let him out of his sight.

  “I still can’t believe you went against my direct orders regarding my sister,” Devlin went on. “If it weren’t for my wife, we would be meeting on the field at dawn. I hope you know how fortunate you are that Lady Marston has threatened bodily harm should I follow through with that threat.”

  “I’ll have to thank Lady Marston profusely,” Drake replied, not hiding the sarcastic tone to his words.

  Devlin clearly didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. “This is a serious matter, Flitwick! And yet you stand there, so cavalier.”

  “Not cavalier at all,” Drake shot back. He was growing tired of Devlin’s upper-handed ways. “I’m simply ready to be done with this conversation. There’s nothing you can do to fix it, anyhow. Your sister is my wife—in every sense of the word—and that can’t be changed. I wish to focus now on a solution for my marriage, if you don’t mind.”

  Finally, that seemed to silence Devlin. He clamped his lips together and breathed loudly through his nose. However angry he was over the situation, Drake couldn’t be bothered over it anymore. He wanted to see his wife. He wanted to mend the rift that had come between them.

  A light knock came at the door and Louisa poked her head into the study.

  “Is she all right?” Drake asked, rushing forward.

  Louisa nodded. “She will be. She’s…confused. And very, very tired. I tucked her into bed and she was sound asleep before I even left the room.”

  Drake’s heart sank. She was sleeping? How could she sleep at a time like this? How could she sleep when his life hung in the balance? Didn’t she know what anguish he was in?

  He did his best to hide his emotions from the present company. It wasn’t easy. He felt as though he were dying inside.

  “Thank you, Louisa,” he said quietly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone now.”

  “Of course.” Louisa turned to her husband and held out her hand. “Come, Devlin.”

  Devlin snarled a bit, clearly reluctant to leave Drake alone, but when his wife scolded him with nothing more than a severe look, he must have thought he had no choice.

  “Fine,” Devlin finally mumbled as he stalked toward the door. “But this isn’t over.”

  “No,” Drake said as the door closed behind them. “I don’t imagine it is.”

  Penny wasn’t exactly certain what woke her up. It must have been a loud noise, or something equally disturbing, for she certainly would not have woken up of her own accord. Even now, as her mind drifted back to consciousness, she still refused to open her eyes. Her lids were heavy, as was her entire body. So very weighted with exhaustion.

  Her heart became heavy too as she began to remember what had happened earlier in the day—the sharp anguish she felt at having been lied to by someone she thought she knew. Someone she loved with all of her heart.

  She rolled over onto her other side, acknowledging the smell of smoke and the crackle of embers in her room, and then the sound of someone stoking the fire in the grate. It was so warm and comfortable—she didn’t ever want to get out of bed. Yet curiosity started to eat at her. Was it Louisa stoking the fire? Part of her hoped it was, and part of her hoped she’d open her eyes to find Drake standing before her.

  At long last, Penny couldn’t take it anymore. She had to know who was there in the room with her. She opened her eyes to find a young, honey-haired girl staring directly at her. It took a moment to remember who she was—but only a moment.

  “Claris
se,” she said, pushing herself up to a sitting position. “What are you doing here?”

  Clarisse shrugged her frail shoulders and smiled sweetly at Penny. “Tending to your fire, of course. Did I wake you?”

  Penny narrowed her eyes on the girl. Clarisse was a clever one. “You did, but I suspect that was your intention.”

  A giggle came from the fair beauty as she moved closer and then jumped onto the bed alongside Penny. “Don’t be cross. It’s just that I’ve been desperate to meet you ever since Papa wrote me about you.”

  “He told you about me?” Penny asked, unable to hide her surprise.

  “Oh, yes. And you’re just as lovely as he said you were.”

  Penny wasn’t sure what to say to that. “What else did he say? And when?”

  “The letter came days ago. At the time, you were on your way to Gretna Green, and he told me he’d be home soon and that you would be with him.”

  “Oh.” He must have written to Clarisse the same day she’d written to her sisters. “I hadn’t realized he had written you. I…”

  “Didn’t know about me?”

  Penny looked up to find Clarisse smiling at her with an all too knowing look.

  “No,” Penny replied quietly. “I’m sorry. He didn’t mention a word about you. Which was why I was so…caught off guard when I met you.”

  “I know. But it’s all right. Papa mentioned that he was having trouble finding the right words to explain the situation. It’s not that he’s ashamed of me. He was just afraid of losing you.”

  Penny nodded. She had no clue what to say in response. She was quite flabbergasted, if truth be told. This girl was so young and yet clearly so wise. Well, maybe wise wasn’t the exact right word. Understanding. Yes, that fit Clarisse perfectly. She couldn’t help but think back to a thirteen-year-old Penny. Even the eighteen-year-old Penny wasn’t nearly as patient or understanding as Clarisse. Goodness, she’d been something of a terror, hadn’t she? Throwing fits over her ruined Season. Demanding this or that of Devlin, when he was simply trying to keep his head above water as he navigated his new duties as viscount and as guardian to three unmarried sisters.

  Looking at Clarisse now, so very forgiving of the fact her father hadn’t mentioned her to his new wife, Penny knew what she had to do.

  “Can you help me get ready for dinner, Clarisse?” she asked as she threw the covers off and climbed from the tall oak bed.

  Drake was certain he was seeing things, for surely his wife was not standing before him, let alone wearing a smile on her face. And was she really holding hands with Clarisse? As though they were the best of friends?

  “Penny?” he ventured, praying she was real so that it didn’t look as if he were talking to himself. The servants would surely think he’d gone mad. “Did you have a good rest?” It was an inane question under the circumstance, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “I did,” she replied, and then she turned to Clarisse. “Your lovely daughter made certain I was comfortable.”

  Drake looked quizzically at his daughter. “You did?”

  “I didn’t want her to freeze to death,” Clarisse explained. “It gets rather chilly upstairs, and the counterpane on her bed is dreadfully thin. You’ll have to do better for her, with winter coming and all.”

  Drake would certainly do better than a thicker counterpane. If she’d allow it, he’d keep Penny warm every night for the rest of their lives.

  “Clarisse, can you please go find Mrs. Little and tell her that we’ll be five for supper, after all.”

  His daughter knew him far too well, if the look she gave him was any indication.

  “You could just ask me to leave,” she said cheekily.

  “All right then,” Drake countered. “Clarisse, would you kindly quit the room?”

  “There. Was that so hard?” And with a toss of her golden curls, she made her exit.

  Even once the latch on the door had clicked, neither Penny nor Drake made a single move. Drake wasn’t sure what to do or say. He knew what he wanted to do, but he was afraid Penny would shove him away.

  When the silence grew unbearable, Drake finally worked up the courage to speak. “I never meant to lie to you,” he said, his voice quiet and gruffer than he’d anticipated.

  Penny nodded. “I know that.”

  “You do?” Drake would not have been more shocked had she sprouted a second head.

  His reaction made her laugh, though. God above, how he loved that laugh, and he’d feared he would never hear it again after this.

  “When Devlin so vehemently forbade me from seeing you, he never told me why,” Penny started. “I could have asked—I could have insisted that he tell me. Or that you tell me. Perhaps I should have. Perhaps it would have made this day a bit easier for all of us.”

  Drake opened his mouth to apologize again, but Penny held up a hand to silence him.

  “Please,” she said. “Let me finish.”

  Drake clamped his lips together again and waited patiently for her to finish her thoughts.

  “But I didn’t want to know. I told myself that whatever was in your past was in your past. It didn’t have to affect our future.” She gave a little chuckle. “Clearly, your secret does affect our future.”

  Drake tried to ignore the sick feeling in his gut. His daughter meant the world to him—he didn’t want to have to choose between her and his new wife. What would he do if Penny insisted—

  “But in a wonderful way.”

  It took a moment for Drake to realize that his line of thinking was nowhere near his wife’s line of thinking. He stuttered idiotically for a moment before he finally asked, “I beg your pardon?”

  Penny crossed the distance between them and took Drake’s hands in hers. He squeezed back tightly, so grateful just to have her near again. To see her smiling at him.

  “I am in no way ready to be a mother,” she admitted. “But I will do my very best to be a good friend and confidant to Clarisse. And I will certainly help you when topics of sensitivity come up.”

  The relief Drake felt at hearing her words nearly sent him crashing to the floor. She really was the woman of his dreams. He’d known it all along, really. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have run off to Gretna Green with her after knowing her for so little a time.

  He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her as tightly as he could. Her slender arms reached around his middle and squeezed back.

  “These have been three of the most excruciating hours of my life,” he whispered, reveling in the delicious scent of her hair and the overwhelming gratitude he felt in the moment.

  Penny pulled back and looked up at him, her expression very serious all of a sudden. “Just promise me one thing.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Promise me that you will never, ever withhold the truth from me ever again.”

  “That is one promise that I am more than happy to make.”

  Drake leaned down to kiss her again, but they were interrupted when the study door flung open with a loud bang.

  “What the devil is this?” Devlin barged through the door, his face red as a tomato.

  Penny smiled up at Drake and without turning to her brother, said, “Devlin, would you care to join us for supper tonight?”

  “Supper!”

  “Yes,” she replied, finally turning away from Drake to look at Devlin. “You know…that meal we eat in the evenings?”

  “I know bloody well what sup—” He cut himself off when he realized he was being made fun of.

  Lady Marston came up behind him and gave him a patronizing pat on his shoulder. “There, there, dear. All is well and as it should be. Now let’s leave them alone and go get ready for supper.”

  Devlin grumbled something unintelligible, but he did as his wife instructed. Louisa gave them a small wink as she pushed her husband out the door of the study and closed it behind her.

  “Alone at last,” Drake said, wrapping his arms around Penny’s waist agai
n. “Do you think your brother will go home tomorrow?”

  “I certainly hope so,” Penny replied. “We have a lot of making up to do.”

  THE END

  Excerpt from

  The Robber Bride

  Prologue

  In the third month of her eighth year, Victoria Barclay climbed aboard her family carriage and took a seat opposite her mother. Mother sat with her gloved hands neatly folded in her lap, her expression unreadable. She was never one to display a great deal of emotion. Rather, her countenance always lingered somewhere between perturbed and content. Her blue velvet traveling gown stretched across the tufted seat and cascaded onto the floor.

  Being so young, Victoria sought to emulate her mother, the Lady Grantham, and therefore mimicked her stance. She folded her hands in her lap, straightened her spine to the best of her ability and tried to set her features in a passive stare. It felt somewhat foreign, though. She wished to relax against the squabs, tuck her feet underneath her, and stare out the window at the passing scenery. Of course, that was never allowed. Mother and Father insisted that Victoria be shielded from the less savory aspects of London life, and therefore the shades were drawn tight anytime they traveled beyond the Marylebone borders.

  But how bored she became sitting in that dim carriage with nothing to look at but Mother!

  “Stop your fidgeting, Victoria,” her mother admonished.

  Immediately, she clasped her hands together and stilled her feet. She had not even noticed that she'd begun to fidget, but sure as the king was mad, her fingers had crushed the velvet of her cloak and her feet swung in time to the horses' hooves.

  “Sorry, Mother,” Victoria replied, making sure to keep her voice even.

  Mother sighed and opened her reticule without another word. She pulled out a small piece of folded parchment and unfolded it carefully. As Mother read the missive to herself, Victoria took the opportunity to pull back the shade an inch or two, just enough to get a glimpse of what she considered the real London.