Innocent in the Regency Ballroom. Christine Merrill

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СКАЧАТЬ Are we in agreement?’ His voice held a cold fury that she had never heard before, and he was every bit the man she had imagined from The Times, so powerful that he could move the country with a few words.

      Hector appeared to have been struck dumb, and so Adam answered for him. ‘Very good. Our interview is at an end. I will be waiting in the carriage, should Penelope need me for anything. Which, for your sake, Mr Winthorpe, I sincerely hope she does not.’

      Which meant he would be coming out into the hall in a moment, and he would realise that she was so lost to all manners as to listen at keyholes on private conversations. And, even worse, he might see the effect his speech had upon her, for her heart was fluttering so that she could hardly breathe.

      She turned and sprinted towards the library, ducking into the open door, only to collide with Jem, knocking a case of books from his arms. The sound of the crash mingled with his bark of objection at people charging around the house and not watching where they were going.

      Which in no way covered the faint chuckle she heard from the hall as her husband passed by on his way to the exit.

       Chapter Six

      Her heart was lighter, now that she had faced her brother at last. But empty as well. Hector was furious, and she’d cut herself off from the only home she’d ever known. It would have happened eventually, she supposed. Just as it should have happened four years before. But she had been prepared then. Now, the sudden marriage and all that came with it made her feel more alone than she had been, even though she had a life’s companion to share it with.

      And what a strange companion she had chosen. It had been much fun to watch him in action against her adversaries. And she hoped that her current feelings for him were not too apparent, for the afternoon’s appointments and the masterful way he had handled things had left her breathless and not quite herself. She had half a mind to throw herself upon him, in a display of affection that would be most inappropriate towards a man who was nearly a stranger to her. And she feared that, if she spoke, she was liable to ramble on and sound as foolish as a schoolroom miss.

      Her husband was seated opposite her in the hired carriage with a faint smile on his face, showing no effects of the day’s changes. When she said nothing, he spoke. ‘We have done a good day’s work, I think. Your money is taken care of. Your things will be brought to the house tomorrow. I recommend that we send your manservant on his way, and attend to our supper, for we have missed tea, and I am feeling quite hungry. I can recommend several restaurants …’

      Eating in public. She had always found it difficult to relax when in a crowd, and sitting down to a meal surrounded by strangers seemed to amplify those feelings. Suppose she were to order the wrong thing, use the wrong utensil when eating or break some other rule that would make her appear gauche to the duke or the people around them? If she took a simple meal in her rooms at the townhouse, she need have no worries of mistake. She would beg off, and save her husband the embarrassment of being seen with her. She said, ‘I am accustomed to eat at home of an evening.’

      ‘And I am not,’ he said, with finality. ‘I belong to several clubs—Boodle’s, White’s, Brooks’s—and frequent them most evenings when I am in town. Of course, I cannot very well take you there. No ladies.’ He stopped to consider his options.

      So many clubs. It gave her a good idea where his wealth might have run to. And why he had needed so much of hers. ‘It is more economical to dine at home,’ she offered.

      He raised an eyebrow and said, ‘I imagine it is on such nights as the servants are engaged. My kitchen is most fine. You will know that soon enough. But remember, I have released the staff for the evening. You may go back, if you wish, and explain to them that economy requires they return to work.’

      She gave a small shake of her head.

      ‘I thought not. In the future, you may dine at home, as you wish. But do not be terribly surprised if I do not join you there, for I prefer society to peace and quiet. And tonight, we will dine out to celebrate the nuptials. That is only natural, is it not?’

      She nodded hesitantly.

      ‘I thought you would agree.’ He smiled again, knowing that he was once more without opposition and gave directions to the driver.

      On entering the restaurant, they were led by the head waiter to a prominent spot with the faintest murmur of ‘your Grace’. Penny was conscious of the eyes of the strangers around them, tracking them to their table.

      Her husband’s head dipped in her direction. ‘They are wondering who you are.’

      ‘Oh, no.’ She could feel the blood draining from her face and a lightness in her head as the weight of all the eyes settled upon her.

      ‘My dear, you look quite faint.’ He seemed genuinely concerned. ‘Wine will restore you. And food and rest.’ He signalled the waiter. ‘Champagne, please. And a dinner fit for celebration. But nothing too heavy. ‘When his glass was filled, he raised it in toast to her. ‘To my bride.’

      The waiter took in the faintest breath of surprise, as did a woman at a nearby table, who had overheard the remark.

      ‘Shh,’ Penny cautioned. ‘People are taking notice.’

      ‘Let them,’ Adam said, taking a sip. ‘While you packed, I arranged for an announcement in tomorrow’s Times. It is not as if it is to be a secret.’

      ‘I never thought …’

      ‘That you would tell anyone besides the bank that you had wed?’

      ‘That anyone would care,’ she said.

      ‘I have no idea what people might think of your marriage,’ he responded. ‘But if I marry, all of London will care.’

      She took a gulp of her own wine. ‘That is most conceited of you, sir.’

      ‘But no less true.’

      ‘But there must be a better way to make the world aware than sitting in the middle of a public place and allowing the world to gawk at us,’ she whispered.

      He smiled. ‘I am sorry. Have I done something to shame you, Penelope?’

      ‘Of course not. We barely know—’

      He cut her off before she could finish the sentence. ‘Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You are the Duke of Bellston. Why would I be embarrassed?’

      ‘Then I fail to understand why we should not be seen dining together, in a public place. It is not as if I do not wish my wife at my side.’

      She was readying the argument that, of course, he would not wish to dine with her. He was a duke, and she was a nobody. And he was every bit as beautiful as she was plain. And if he meant to embarrass her by showing the world the fact …

      And then she looked at the way he was smiling at her. It was a kind smile, not full of passion, but containing no malice. And she imagined what it would be like, if he had dropped her at the townhouse, and gone on his merry way. Perhaps he would mention casually to some man at a club that he had wed. And there would be a small announcement in the papers.

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