Innocent in the Regency Ballroom: Miss Winthorpe's Elopement / Dangerous Lord, Innocent Governess. Christine Merrill

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СКАЧАТЬ again, gathering her tea things from his desk. ‘I should be going back to my room, after all. I meant to accomplish more today.’

      ‘I am sorry if I distracted you. Until tomorrow, then.’ And before he knew what he was doing, he’d bent and kissed her on the cheek.

      She turned as pink as the walls of her sitting room, but she did not flinch from him. In fact, the smile he received in reward was quite charming, before she remembered that there were others present, and hurried across the hall and into her study, closing the door.

      In retrospect, he’d have been better to have remained at home, for that seemed to be where his mind resided. The strange day only served to accent the commonness of the evening. The boring conversation and stale jokes of his friends were punctuated with exclamations of ‘Adam, why must you be so glum?’

      The constant reminder that he was not himself only served to make his mood darker.

      When they were at cards, and Minton had presented some outlandish political position, Adam had snapped, ‘Really, John, if I wished to talk politics, I’d have stayed home with my wife. She, at least, has some idea of what she is talking about.’

      There was an amused murmur in the crowd around him, as though he had confirmed to the men around him that his sudden marriage had addled his mind. Only Tim looked at him and nodded with approval.

      Soon after, a servant arrived, bearing a note on a salver for Tim. His friend unfolded the paper, grew pale, and asked a servant for his hat and gloves. ‘I must make my apologies. I am called home. There is an emergency.’

      ‘Nothing serious, I hope,’ Adam said.

      ‘I suspect it is little Sophie. She has been sick again. And I am a little worried.’ Judging by Tim’s agitation, minor worry did not describe his true state of mind.

      Adam stood up. ‘I will go with you. We will take my carriage to save time, and I will return home once your mind is at rest.’

      But on arrival at the Colton home, they discovered the true nature of the emergency. All the lights were blazing, and from the salon came the sound of voices, laughter, and a soprano warbling along with the pianoforte.

      Tim swore softly and with vehemence threw his hat into a corner and stalked into the room with Adam following in his wake.

      His wife seized him by the arm, forcing a drink into his hand and announced to the gathering, ‘Here they are! As I told you, they were detained.’

      Adam was close enough to hear Tim murmur to his wife, ‘You knew my intentions, and yet you brought me home to play host to a gathering that is none of my making.’

      She responded through clenched teeth. ‘And you knew my intentions. I wished for you and your friend to dine at home this evening. Do not cross me again, or you shall live to regret it.’

      ‘More so than I do our marriage?’ Tim laughed loud enough for the guests to hear, although they could not make out his words. ‘That would be an impressive feat, madam.’

      ‘You know how creative I can be.’ She turned away from Tim, and reached for Adam, linking her arm in his and pulling him forwards. ‘Come along, Adam. Do not think you can escape so easily. Have a drink with us before you go.’ She was pressing against him in a way that must be obvious to her husband, and smiling up at him too brightly.

      He eased free of her grasp, stomach churning, unable to look his friend in the eye. ‘A glass of wine, then. Only one. And then I must be going home.’

      Clarissa said, loud enough for all to hear, ‘Ah yes. Hurrying home to your bride, Adam. Just when will she be making an appearance in society? People are beginning to think that the woman is a product of your overheated imagination.’

      ‘You know full well, Clare, that she wished to remain at home, for you spoke to her this morning.’

      ‘But, Adam, everyone is dying to meet her. I have told them so much about her. They are aflame with curiosity. Penelope is the daughter of a cit,’ she informed the group gathered around them. ‘And from what I’ve been told, she is very rich. But she will not mix with us, I’m afraid. She is far too busy to be bothered. Adam’s wife is a bluestocking.’ The last was said with enough pity to make the other revelations pale in comparison.

      He was expected to say something at this point, but was at a loss as to what. Most of what Clarissa had said was perfectly true, although it sounded far worse coming from her mouth. And she had probably used his absence to embroider what facts she had with as many scurrilous fictions as she could invent. So he seized upon the one thing he could safely refute. ‘Really, Clarissa. You make her sound so exclusionist that she should be a patroness at Almack’s. She is at home tonight, reading The Odyssey in the original Greek. I bought her the book this afternoon as a wedding gift. But she’ll mix with society soon enough.’

      And then, he could not help himself—he added a fabrication of his own. ‘We are planning a ball, and I suspect most of you will be invited to it. Then you can meet her and see for yourself.’

      The crowd nodded, mollified, and there was an undercurrent of curiosity in the gossip that stole the thunder from Clarissa’s tales. Bellston rarely entertained. The new duchess might be an eccentric, but no one would dare comment on the fact if it meant losing the duke’s favour and missing a chance to attend an event that would be eagerly anticipated by everyone of importance in London.

      Everyone except the Duchess of Bellston.

      Penny sat at the vanity in her bedroom, which she had transformed, with the help of a strong lamp, into a makeshift writing desk. The work had seemed to fly this evening, with words flowing out of her mind and on to paper as easily as if the text were already in English and she was only copying down what she saw. Perhaps it had been the gift of the book that had inspired her. Adam could be so effortlessly kind that she scolded herself for thinking ill of him earlier in the day.

      Or perhaps the intellectual stimulation of strong tea and good conversation had freed her thoughts.

      That was all it had been, of course. Any stimulation she might have felt, beyond her intellect, was girlish fancy. She had always admired the Duke of Bellston. To see the actual man in front of her, moved by his subject matter until he’d all but forgotten her existence, was more invigorating than she’d imagined. He’d invited her into his study, allowing her past a barrier of intimacy that she had not expected to cross, and for a time she’d felt she was very much in his confidence.

      And then he had kissed her. Thank the Lord that their conversation had been at an end, for she doubted that she would have been able to string two thoughts together after that buss on the cheek.

      She had gone back to her sitting room and curled up on the sofa and opened the book, ready to enjoy his gift, only to have her eyes drawn, again and again, to the kissing couple on the bookshelf. She must have looked as dazed and eager as that when he’d left her.

      And it had not stopped him from going out, she reminded herself, returning to cool logic. Not that there was anything wrong with being apart in the evenings. How would she get any work done if he forced her to accompany him everywhere, like a dog on a leash? She enjoyed her work.

      And she had been quite satisfied with her progress once she left the sitting room, which seemed to attract foolish fantasy like a normal library attracted cobwebs. She could work without fear of interruption in her bedroom.

      Certainly СКАЧАТЬ