The Wicked Wallflowers: Regency Boxed Set (Chronicles of a Bluestocking)

by Tammy Andresen

  She gave a tiny twitch and then clenched her hands together. Just thinking about her childhood made her tense. Fortunately, Penny was spared answering as Chloe entered the room, Dryden behind her. Both wore matching smiles. Not that odd for Chloe but downright strange for Dryden. He usually wore a serious and furrowed brow.

  “How frightened should I be?” she asked Dryden, her own brow furrowing. “You look strange.”

  He quirked a brow. “I’m happy for you. What’s strange about that?”

  Penny shook her head. “I’m not used to seeing you like that, I suppose.”

  “Just tell her the good news,” Chloe tugged on her husband’s sleeve. “She’ll understand then.”

  Penny felt her insides twist. Nothing but destruction ever happened where her father was concerned. “How could the news be good? We’re talking about the man who gambled away every penny and left me destitute.”

  “Not every penny, Penny.” Dryden chuckled at his own joke.

  Penny sat straighter. Dryden was not a man meant for jesting. “I don’t think I like you like this.” She stood, her hands pressing to her stomach. “What did the letter say?”

  “That he saved a property for you after all. Or rather, your mother did. The home you grew up in. I know it seems unlikely since it’s been a year since his death, but apparently it’s taken some time to settle all the debts and see to the estate and the wills. But one house in particular was left directly from your mother to you. Fortuna Abbey is yours.”

  Excitement and a touch of dread made her breath hold in her lungs. Fortuna Abbey? Her hand came to her mouth. Her childhood home in Kent. “No one has lived in it or worked it since my grandparent’s death. My father refused to do work of any kind. The place must be in ruin by now.”

  The silly smile on Dryden’s face evaporated. “That is unfortunate. I’d hoped it could net you a good profit. But if neither the house nor the land is in working order, a sale will be difficult. Even if you can sell it, you’ll get a fraction of what it’s worth.”

  Penny rubbed her forehead. She supposed some money was better than no money. It would be nice not to have to live off the charity of her friends. Could she afford her own apartment? “It would still be a nice sum, would it not?”

  Dryden shook his head even as his shoulders rose and fell. “If we can find a buyer.”

  “Excuse me.”

  Penny dropped her hand, her eyes widening as Lord Preston stepped into the room. Had he been in the hall this entire time?

  Dryden gave his friend a smile. “Preston, I told you. You’re more than welcome to go wait in my study.”

  Preston nodded. “Thank you kindly. I was on my way when the conversation captivated me. I couldn’t help but overhear. My apologies. But might I make a suggestion to Miss…”

  “Clearwater,” Penny answered, her heart doing that silly flip it had done earlier.

  “Miss Clearwater. What you need is a man who could fix the place up for you first. Make it worth more. Then you could sell for the best profit possible.” His blue eyes pierced into hers as he spoke.

  She took a steadying breath as her pulse fluttered in her throat. “I suppose that would work. Where might you suggest I find such a man?”

  “Right here.” He gave her a deep bow. “I could plow your fields and mend the house.”

  Penny stilled. Had he just said that he could fix her house? It was a beautiful old estate with distant sea views and fertile land, but it had long been neglected now. The idea of one earl repairing all the damage was absurd. “I beg your pardon?”

  He swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbing. “In exchange, we could split the proceeds.”

  Caroline stood too, her hand grasping Chloe’s. “Forgive me, my lord. But how do you know you could complete such tasks and how would we measure your progress?”

  Lord Preston took a step closer, his gaze on Penny. She heated, flushed under his scrutiny. “She’d come with me of course. Who better to assess the state of her own home?”

  “Come with you?” Chloe gasped. “How could an unmarried woman and—”

  “But she wouldn’t be unmarried. She’d be my wife.”

  She nearly fell out of her seat but grabbed the arm and managed to stay put. Her mouth, however, fell open as she stared. Did he just suggest that they’d marry? She must be dreaming. That was the only logical explanation.

  Chapter Three

  Wes met their silent gawking with a straight back and a level gaze. As far as plans went, overall, he thought this one good. One of his best in a long time. His head was clear, and his eyes bright as he looked at Penny, as though he might will her to agree.

  How long had it been since he’d had a drink? Near a month now. The first week had been hell on Earth.

  He’d been telling himself that he could no longer afford such luxuries, but the truth was actually quite different. He could always drum up a few shillings. He didn’t want alcohol anymore. He’d seen Dryden some months before and the man had changed. Healthy, happy, in love. Wes had gone upstairs to a room at his club and looked in the mirror. What he’d seen was a man on the brink.

  He’d started making changes that day. Taken a long bath, eaten a real meal. It took him months to taper off the ale and the whisky, but he’d finally done the deed.

  Now before him stood the opportunity he’d been waiting for. A beautifully packaged, wonderfully appointed, chance at a future.

  At least he thought so. “Am I understanding correctly? You have a property with the potential to make money but no means with which to make the land produce?” He cleared his throat as no one spoke. Penny, her eyes wide, stood perfectly still, staring at him. “I have a title with a home in London, though it’s in shambles now and, and land in the North that won’t be ready for me to farm for at least another year. A drought followed by intense rain, washed all the silt from the soil and I lost a year’s profits.” Another example of the string of luck he’d had since taking on the title. “My cousin is planting a filler crop on my behalf to rebalance the dirt but without money for seed…” He was getting off topic and drew in a deep breath. “Both properties are entailed and without an infusion of coin, I can’t do anything with either of them.”

  Penny’s lips pressed together. “Vexing,” she answered.

  He quite liked the sound of her voice. Melodious and sweet, it reminded him of a violin playing a soft tune.

  “What I propose is that we marry. You would become a countess.” Someone gasped. He kept his gaze trained on Penny, her reaction imminently important. “And I can work your lands for you. Help make the house livable until we’ve enough coin to fix it properly.”

  Her pink tongue darted from her mouth to lick her lips. How delightful. He watched the arch of its movement, his insides tightening. When was the last time he’d felt desire like this? One corner of his mouth tugged down. He was proposing a business proposition, this sort of reaction was counter-productive. He supposed marriage should have occurred to him already. A woman with more money than Penny might be willing to trade all the coin he needed for the title of countess. His jaw ticked. That sort of woman wouldn’t be willing to make the type of bargain he was proposing.

  “And then what?” She folded her hands in front of her. “If you’re successful, and the lands become profitable, what do we do then? Sell them? Keep them?”

  He raised his eyebrows. She was smart and she’d thought through his plan. “Two options. We remain together, stay on the land. Live out our lives. Or, second choice, we split the proceeds and live out our days separately.”

  Another gasp. He ignored the sound watching Penny. “Interesting,” she murmured, her face a blank mask.

  Dryden cleared his throat. Wes blinked. He’d been so focused on Penny, he’d nearly forgotten the other man was in the room. “Preston,” Dryden’s voice echoed about the room. “The butler will show you to my study.”

  Damn. Dryden wasn’t going to allow him to press his suit. He gave a single jer
k of his chin. Penny hadn’t moved a muscle and she stared at him still. With one final look, he drank in the hazel of her eyes and the dark tresses framing her lovely face.

  He’d take a step back for the moment, but this conversation wasn’t over. The dark-haired beauty was the solution he’d been searching for and now that he’d found her, he wasn’t about to let go.

  Penny didn’t dare move. She’d walked into this room, destitute and without prospects. Now she had a house, land, and an offer of marriage. What she still didn’t have was any money to speak of, though Preston assured her he could make it for them. She had no way of knowing whether he might deliver on that promise or not.

  She absolutely could not allow his penetrating eyes and roguish jaw to color her opinion. He was the sort of handsome that could rob a woman of her senses if she allowed him. His broad shoulders looked as though they could hold up the world…well at least her world.

  “Ladies.” Dryden gave a slight bow. “If you will excuse me, I must speak with my friend.”

  “Of course,” Chloe answered, smiling at her husband. As he turned and walked out the door, she rushed to Penny’s side.

  “What just happened?” Caroline whispered next to her. “A countess? Chloe, be a dear and find me a destitute earl as well.” She craned her neck. “If you don’t want that one, Penny, I’ll take him. He’s handsome as sin and rather charming despite being down on his luck. I’ve an inheritance to make up for my lack of reputation.”

  Chloe tsked. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s a rogue of the first order. He’s terrible for marriage but perfect for…” She stopped.

  Penny crossed her arms, narrowing her gaze at Chloe. She knew exactly where her friend was going. “I’m not marrying him just to do research.” Then she turned to Caroline. “And you don’t want anything to do with rogues, remember? Especially not handsome ones.”

  Caroline blushed.

  “No, of course not,” Chloe soothed, reaching for her arm. “Caroline was jesting. But you could consider Preston’s suit for some period of time, just to research. I mean even that interaction was beneficial for our future book. A new rule has occurred to me. A rake will go to almost any measure if you have something he needs.”

  “Chloe.” Penny gave her friend a pleading look. “I appreciate what you are attempting to do with the book, but could we not boil down major events in my life to snippets for other ladies to read? I’ve more pressing matters to consider.”

  “Consider?” Chloe raised her brows. “Are you sincerely considering his offer?”

  Penny’s mouth twisted as butterflies danced inside her stomach. “I don’t know.”

  “Oh Penny,” Chloe leaned forward, her mouth tight. “I don’t think his plan is a good one. I know it sounded sensible enough but truly, he hasn’t been very successful and—”

  Penny nodded. “I know where you’re going. But stop to consider that I don’t have a dowry like you or Caroline. Until this morning, I had nothing and now all I have is a broken-down house and unused farm land. How many men would consider that an asset?” She fisted her hands against her stomach. “I’m not agreeing but I’m not ready to say no either.”

  “And the book?” Caroline asked.

  Penny shook her head. “I agreed to help with it and I will. But could we discuss the book later? My head is absolutely full.”

  “Of course,” Chloe answered. “Why don’t we sit and have tea?” Chloe began pulling her arm. “We can discuss the benefits and drawbacks of your…er…offer and come up with a plan.”

  Penny’s shoulders sagged. “That would be lovely.” She needed guidance now.

  Her stomach had tied itself into knots, but she was able to at least sip on her tea as they sat. As Caroline munched on a biscuit, she looked at the ceiling, her gaze unfocused. “The first thing we need is more information on Lord Preston. Is he a man that will make good on his promises or not?”

  Penny relaxed a little. This conversation was becoming more productive. She needed this clarity. “I agree. I don’t want to make my situation worse than it already is. I think we’ve enough experience between us to understand when a man can do more harm than good.”

  Chloe nodded. “I’ll begin by talking with Fin. What I know about Preston is that he was in the army. He was the second cousin or some such relation and inherited unexpectedly. Fin told me that when he first met Preston, the man was a hero, strong and competent.”

  “He has that air about him.” Caroline tapped her chin. “But he’s clearly fallen on hard times.”

  Penny nibbled at her lip. She wasn’t one to cast aspersions there. Yes, his shoes were worn and his jacket frayed but her own dress had been repaired so many times, it was showing stitch marks. “What happened after the army?”

  Chloe shrugged. “Fin is vague on the details. Says that Preston fell into the same trap he did. The problems were too large, drink is too easy, especially for a man of the leisure class. No one bats an eye if a man in that position spends all day at his club.”

  “Fin, that is to say, Lord Dryden, pulled himself out of that predicament though, didn’t he?” Penny didn’t want to hope. That was a dangerous emotion.

  “He did.” Chloe scooted forward in her chair. “But try to understand. He’d accomplished that years before I met him. There was never a question as to whether he could provide for my basic needs.”

  Penny understood. Chloe had risked a great deal less than Penny when she took Dryden’s offer. If Penny took Preston’s offer, she was gambling with her future. That was the unfortunate reality of a woman with so little.

  Chapter Four

  Wes sat in Dryden’s office admiring the rich wood paneling that shone with fresh polish and smelled of lemon and spice. He’d never personally had such decadence, except for the club, of course. And he didn’t need it. He’d been happy in his family’s farmhouse, content in the army, living out of a tent. During those times, he’d had the satisfaction of a job well done, the knowledge he lived a life of hard work and value.

  That was the man he wanted to be again. He’d lost himself in wealth and status, allowed the shiny distractions of the elite to mask his unhappiness. He understood now, and he’d wager everything to make his life meaningful again. By wager, he didn’t mean a bet, not like gentleman of the ton. He meant he’d give over every last ounce of his strength, every intelligent thought he had, every waking moment to raising himself up with the hope that by putting hard work into his future, he’d raise himself and Penny up out of the dust. Funny how he already thought of them as a team. How had that happened? The last ten years had taught him however, that there was some measure of luck and that even with all that, this endeavor was a risk that could fail.

  “I can’t believe you just proposed,” Dryden rumbled from the door. “You haven’t been in my house a quarter hour.”

  Wes winced. “I didn’t intend to take advantage of your hospitality. I only meant to seize an opportunity.”

  “Penny is not an opportunity. She is a woman and one of my wife’s dearest friends.” Dryden’s voice dropped low as it rang with a warning as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

  “You can’t deny that what I proposed has the potential to raise us both up and…” Wes stopped when Dryden leaned down in his face.

  “Potential? It might also be a complete failure.” Dryden straightened again. “You’re gambling with her future.”

  Wes winced. He had thought the same not a few moments before. He scrubbed his hands with his face. “What is the alternative? She sells her property for a fraction of the value and attempts to live the rest of her life off a paltry sum? What type of man can she marry with that? A baker? A merchant?”

  Dryden’s mouth twitched. “I’ll give you this. You haven’t been drinking. Your mind is sharper than I’ve seen it in a long time.”

  Wes ran his hands through his hair. “I never want to be that man again. I don’t know what happened to make me become him in the first place.�
��

  Dryden leaned on his desk. “You gave up. Declared the debt and the amount of work to remove yourself from it too difficult. And you lost.”

  Wes cringed inwardly. Yes. He’d lost. Not just his career and his livelihood, but his dignity. That’s why he hadn’t just married some woman with a fat purse. He’d never get it back if he took the easiest path. Not what he’d expected when he became a member of the aristocracy. “That too.”

  “It isn’t that I don’t understand. I even applaud your attempts to put your life back together. But know that I had been sober for six years, I was financially independent, and still uncertain I was man enough to take care of Chloe.” Dryden placed his hand on Wes’s shoulder. “I care about Penny and I’m not sure you’re ready to take on her future as well as your own.”

  Wes took a deep breath. He needed Dryden on his side if this plan had a prayer. He likely should have waited and asked his friend first. But he risked never seeing Penny again. “I’m also the only earl likely to offer for her hand.”

  Dryden bent his head down, his chin resting against his chest as he scrubbed at his scalp. “True. Until that letter arrived, I thought Penny might end up a spinster. Her father left her in a terrible situation.”

  Relief nearly made his shoulders slump before he thought better of it and straightened. “Farming is something I know. At least when I’ve a plow in my hands I’m sure of how to proceed. Attempting to manage my lands while indulging in London’s debauchery didn’t work. But I understand where I went wrong and I’m ready to make changes. I’ve already begun.” He held up his hand for Dryden to inspect. They both understood the shake a man’s hand had when he was a slave to addiction.

  Dryden gave Wes’s hand a long look. “I’m proud of you. I had a lot of help getting myself here and you’ve done it alone. I would have helped you more, if you’d let me.”