He thought back to his school days. One boy in particular, the future Baron of Blackwater, had made his life a living hell. He’d hidden Logan’s shoes to make him late for class and get the switch. He’d tossed Logan’s books, ones he couldn’t afford to replace, in the privy. And later, when Logan had learned not to react to all these barbs, the older boy had begun to beat Logan almost daily. He was always sporting some bruise or another.
Men were cruel. Women like Penny should be protected from abuse.
He carefully dusted the note, folded it, and sealed the letter shut. He’d have it delivered first thing in the morning.
Stretching, he left his office and made his way to his bedchamber.
The large room had a massive bed in the middle and he stared at it. Despite the exhaustion weighing down his limbs, he’d never wanted to climb into it less.
It looked…lonely.
He shook his head, scrubbing his scalp with his hands.
He’d taken pride in filling that bed all on his own. Logan had a lovely suite next door for his future bride. He’d never planned to have a bedmate.
He’d begun inquiries into several well-to-do families. The beginning stages, of course. But his sons, when he had them, would not be victims of society. They’d have an impeccable pedigree.
Shrugging off his shirt, he sat down to take off his boots. Stripping the rest of his clothes off, he climbed into the center of the bed and stared at the canopy. What now?
His eyes were wide open, his thoughts spinning.
First and foremost about Penny.
The curve of her lips, the delicate sweep of her neck, the thick mass of hair, that while dark, seemed to shimmer in the candlelight, catching the light with its sheen. But also the worn appearance of her clothes, her commitment to those orphans, putting herself in danger for a few shillings.
The woman had no sense.
And he needed to cease thinking about her because she had no pedigree either. Of course, she was educated. That much was clear. She’d learned manners, decorum. And she was cultured even, with a fine accent and posture to match. But his marriage would elevate his status, the last piece that eluded him. And Penny Walters contributed nothing to that cause.
But thoughts of Clarissa crept in too. Despite her stature, she seemed a woman who could take care of herself. And yet, Penny had intimated that Clarissa had needed saving. Why?
Clarissa was as fierce as a woman came. He was certain of that. She wielded that poker like a sword.
Finally, as dawn crept into his room, he managed to fall asleep. But soon enough a rooster crowed from some rooftop in the distance and his eyes popped open again. He had a great deal to accomplish today.
After rising, he washed and dressed, leaving instructions for his note to be delivered to Daring as he had his horse saddled and ate a light meal. He needed to collect funds for Penny. That was first.
But he also needed to procure a gown for her, because while he’d insisted she didn’t need to come, Daring didn’t strike him as a man who compromised, and he was certain she’d be attending dinner with him.
Which meant a trip to the dressmaker. His eye was excellent and he was certain he could estimate her size well enough. He held out his hands and closed his eyes. Her waist looked to be about so and her hips…he snapped his gaze open again.
He’d deliver the gown and the money today, despite the appointment for the following day. Then he could inform her of the invitation and…see her again. Sooner rather than later.
As he made his way out to the stable, he stopped at the groundskeeper’s shed.
The man was already at work and Logan knocked on the wall, the door already ajar.
“Me lord.” The man turned around, surprise making his step falter. “What are ye doin’ here?”
Logan smiled at that. “I need a few tools and perhaps some advice. There’s a fence that needs repair and—”
“Fence?” The man’s shoulder snapped back. “Not here?”
“No,” Logan had to hide a smile. Fergus was excellent at keeping up the property. “A…friend.”
One of Fergus’ shaggy eyebrows shot up. “Friend? She must be pretty.”
“It’s not like that,” Logan answered quickly. He didn’t need to explain to his groundskeeper that a business deal hinged upon his relationship with Penny.
Though the fence was less about the deal and more about…his jaw clenched. A pretty lady.
Well, that wasn’t true. It was about a lady who needed help. And who helped others. And whose fence was in desperate need of repair. And he shouldn’t want to spend time with her but…well…he did. He reasoned that he’d also be figuring out what Daring was up to, but it was likely his time would be better spent hunting for a bride.
“Of course it isn’t.” Fergus gave a toothy grin. “It never is.” Then he began pulling tools down from the pegs on the wall. “You’ll need these. And I’ll show you how it’s done. You wouldn’t want your ugly gentleman thinking this is your first fence repair.”
Logan gave the other man a long stare. To think he’d be repairing some man’s fence was just ridiculous. “I’ll have you know it’s for an orphanage.”
Fergus straightened then, his gaze narrowing. “Why didn’t you say so? What else needs to be done?”
Penny sat in the front room with Natty on her lap as they carefully counted stacks of coins.
The girl was alarmingly good at the endeavor for being only five or six years old.
“If there are ten in this stack and five in that, how many do you have in total?” She softly stroked the girls head as Natty focused on the chips in front of her.
“Hmm.” Her little mouth pursed into a very serious line, her tiny fingers moving as she worked it out. Distantly, Penny heard the door open, but her concentration was fixed on Natty.
Her soft brown curls blew softly, tickling Penny’s nose.
The distinct pad of Clarissa’s bare feet caught her ear and the deeper clack of…boots.
She raised her head.
“Fifteen,” Natty sang out, pointing down at the coins. “Is that right, Miss Penny?”
“That’s right, my brilliantly beautiful girl.” She stroked the child’s hair even as Clarissa came into view, the Earl of Goldthwaite just behind her.
Her breath caught, and she clenched a fist at her side. She shouldn’t feel anything for this man. He was a lord, a benefactor, and his intentions were shaded at best. If she weren’t careful…
She’d told him she was undecided on marriage, but the truth was, it was her most secret wish. But one she expected never to be fulfilled…
She’d fallen in love once. It was nearly a year after Clarissa had come to live with her. A soldier and a good man. He’d offered her a life free from worry, financially and otherwise, but Clarissa was not invited into that life.
Penny had refused the offer and had never looked back. Lieutenant Vrabel had been a perfectly good candidate. But these children were her life and anyone who wished to share in it would have to help them too. Most likely no man would agree to such an imposition. And so…she’d remain alone.
And that was why the Earl of Goldthwaite was best left alone. He’d called her little loves “urchins.” He was a statue of ice.
No matter how he made her heartbeat quicken and her own body heat.
Of course, he’d donated to her cause too, but that didn’t mean he’d wish to live with a house full of foundlings full time. She shook her head. What was she even thinking? He was an earl. Of course, he wasn’t going to help her raise orphans.
Her heart skipped a beat. What had happened to her normally sensible mind?
“Penny, you have a visitor.” Clarissa smirked as she reached out a hand to Natty. “Come on love, I’ll continue your lesson in the other room.”
Natty stuck out her bottom lip. “But I want to be with Miss Penny.”
Natty was always clingy after a night of bad dreams and she’d had a few terrible ones the
night before.
Penny softly brushed the girl’s cheek, her skin velvet and cream. “You’re all right. And you know Clarissa loves you to the sky and back.”
Natty stuck out her lip but dutifully climbed down from Penny’s lap and took Clarissa’s hand.
Penny had avoided looking at Goldthwaite. His chiseled jaw and penetrating eyes unsettled her the day before, but as the room cleared out, she had no choice.
That’s when she realized he held several packages.
The first was a large box with a lid.
Wordlessly, he handed it to her.
She looked down at it, trimmed with a beautiful pale violet ribbon, her eyes scrunching even as her stomach tightened into knots. “What is this?”
He cleared his throat. “Your presence has been requested at dinner this evening.”
“Dinner where?” she asked setting the box on the table she and Natty had just been working at. Coins scattered under its weight. Drat. That was the money for the baker.
She refused to open the box and look at its contents. She didn’t dare see what was inside, she wouldn’t accept it. No matter what it was.
“The Duke of Darlington’s.”
Her gasp filled the space between them. The very duke who’d rejected her request for funds? “Why would a duke want me at his table?”
Goldthwaite grimaced. “I don’t know. Just like I don’t know why he suggested that I sponsor your orphanage.”
She cocked her head. This question had plagued her for half the night. “And why did you agree to be a sponsor?”
She saw the subtle twitch of his mouth before he replied. What did that mean?
“It made good sense.”
That was a reasonable answer. Very incomplete but reasonable, nonetheless. “Well, then he was successful, I suppose. So why would I attend?”
“Because he is a duke and he asked.”
She shook her head. “I don’t care about that. I’m needed here.” It wasn’t strictly true. But she didn’t wish to go. She didn’t belong in that world and besides…she’d already determined not to open the box.
He quirked a brow. “You need to raise funds. And access to a lord of his power would do nothing but benefit your cause.”
Drat. He was right. “Fine. But I can’t accept the—” She fluttered her hand over the box.
He stepped closer. “Why not?”
“Because.” She blew out a breath. “There are rules about such things for a reason. Men expect things when you accept gifts from them.”
He made a growl low and deep in his throat. “What men and what things specifically? This isn’t the first time the topic has been mentioned.”
His irritation caught her off guard. “No one’s done anything,” she replied, her voice soothing. The beast in him was rising again, but she found she didn’t mind at all when it was in her defense. In fact, a bit of warmth spread through her belly.
The truth was, there had been a few men who had made her rather obvious offers but nothing worse than that. While the incidents had been benign enough, they’d taught her caution. Still, it was nice to know, if the situation were ever more serious, there was someone who cared.
His gaze narrowed. “You’re placating me again. Tell me the truth. Has a man hurt you?”
She nearly laughed. “No, my lord, I’m fine. And I truly appreciate your concern. Thank you.”
His shoulders relaxed. Just a bit. “In that case, open the box.”
She nibbled her lip, looking down at the beautiful ribbon. “Please understand that I am fine because I’ve never allowed a man to trap me in obligation. I—”
“The only obligation that comes with that dress is attending dinner.” He reached out a hand and touched the frayed cuff of her dress sleeve. “It is a sad fact that with the elite you must look like you have money in order for them to help you. And sometimes, not even when you have it, will they accept you as one of their own. But I digress. In your case, Miss Walters, if you put on nicer clothes, they will consider you a more successful woman and therefore be more willing to donate to your cause. Wear the dress tonight and use the opportunity to raise more money.” He looked around the house, his eyes taking in the faded wallpaper and the chipped wood. “This was once a fine house but you’re right, it’s time for you to move.”
And with that, he placed a hand under hers and turned her palm up.
Her skin tingled at his touch and a knot formed in her throat. How could he effortlessly evoke such a response? But she didn’t have time to consider further as a heavy bag landed in her open fingers.
She gasped, knowing instantly what it was. “The three thousand pounds?”
“Six thousand, actually.”
He was close. So close she could smell the spicy scent of his cigars and the male musk that tickled her nose and made her insides flutter. And she could see his Adam’s apple, his throat lean and as masculine as the rest of him. Her fingers itched to reach up and touch the skin. Trail her hands along it. “How much?” she asked.
He chuckled low and deep. “I know it still doesn’t buy you a new home but it’s a real start. And…” He touched her arm. “I think you should purchase a carriage.”
She could hardly catch a breath. The light brush of his hand on her was as near an embrace as she’d been in in a long time and she had the distinct urge to lay her forehead on his chest. Draw from his infinite well of strength. How would it feel to be sheltered by such a man?
“I couldn’t possibly.” She stepped back then, breaking the spell. “That requires a horse and a stable. Too much…”
He grimaced. “Fine. Create a budget for hacks. I insist. It’s my only other stipulation for the gift of funds. You won’t be any good to these children dead.”
“So you admit they are children and not urchins?” But she smiled around the words. His concern had somehow lightened some of the burden on her shoulders.
“Well, I’ve only met the one, but I know the word urchin offends you so...” Then he lifted the other box in his arms. The final item he’d been carrying. It was a rough wooden open container with a simple metal handle. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
Chapter Four
Logan spent the afternoon repairing the fence. Despite the cool weather, the middle of the day grew quite warm and he’d stripped off his jacket and cravat, wearing just an open shirt.
The fence still needed a good coat of paint but at least he’d repaired all the broken pickets.
Penny had come out to rake the beds and he’d had a most excellent view of her derriere as she’d worked, kneeling in the garden to brush away all the dead leaves from the fall.
Not that the delectable view was why he’d repaired the fence.
Though if he were honest, he wasn’t certain why he’d done the job.
Except that they needed the repairs. But he hadn’t asked her a single question or learned even a bit of information that might help him with Daring’s intentions.
Clarissa had brought the three little girls out multiple times. At one point, they’d helped to clear the beds, working so hard to copy Penny. At another point, they’d watched intently as he’d repaired the fence. And finally, they’d delivered him water and bread with cheese.
The little one, Natty, who he’d seen doing math, looked so proud to offer him the plate that his chest had actually grown tight.
“Would you like some `freshments, my lord?” She gave him a large smile as she sighed, clearly pleased to have gotten out the words. He didn’t have the heart to tell her the word was refreshment.
“Of course, my lady. Thank you.”
Penny had looked back at him then, from her perch in the garden, the smile on her face, shining through her eyes.
He’d nearly choked on his cheese. Because she looked stunning like that. And because no woman had ever looked so pleased with him before.
Why did that matter?
He didn’t need a single woman’s approval. He was
working toward acceptance from the crème de la crème of society. He wanted…
She shyly looked down as she brushed some dirt from her dress. Penny’s cheeks were flushed with color and her lips soft and so inviting.
Why did his goals suddenly seem less important? Money…who cared?
Society…let them all go to the devil.
A good match for marriage…bloody boring.
This woman. Her approval suddenly meant more than any of it and he took a half step back.
Natty frowned at him. “Was the cheese not good?” She lowered her voice, her little brow drawing together. “I ate bad cheese once. It was awful.”
And just like that, something in him shifted. Well, something else. This little girl was darling and working so hard to have a good life. His sink or swim attitude suddenly held less grit.
His stomach flipped as he thought about the cold cruel things a world like this could do to a child.
“The cheese was excellent. I was astounded by the deliciousness.”
Natty gave him a glowing smile, bouncing on her heels. Penny stood and crossed over to them, the gate creaking as she opened it. “Well done, my sweet,” she whispered as she leaned down close to Natty’s ear. “It’s time for your rest now.”
Natty nodded and leaned up on tiptoe to kiss Penny’s cheek. “I love you,” she whispered before turning back to head toward the house.
“I love you too.” Penny answered, watching the child leave.
“How old is Natty?” he asked, more to break the silence that suddenly seemed awkward. Or perhaps it was just him who felt uncertain. Watching the little girl toddle up the stairs made him shake inside. She was so small.
“I’m not certain,” Penny said. “She looks about four or five, but she might just be short from malnutrition. Her intellect makes her seem more like six.”
Those words rumbled in his chest. He wanted to ask a hundred questions. Who would starve such a baby? How could no one even know when she was born? But the questions stuck in his throat. “How long has Natty been under your care?”
Earl of Gold: Lords of Scandal Page 4
