Yet, the desire to see that gentleman again was like no temptation she had ever faced. Curiosity burned through her, and she knew she might never get such an opportunity again. Was it worth the risk? The potential scandal? If anyone found out her true intention was to meet him and not his sister, her reputation would be in tatters.
“We met yesterday at the bookstore.” The words were pulled from her before she realized she was speaking. “She was also there to purchase Harry’s newest novel.”
“Well, will you accept the invitation?” her mother questioned eagerly.
“Of course. I should go and pen my response this instant.” Pushing from the table, she stood, intent on hurrying to her room to prepare her letter and escape anymore probing questions from her parents.
“I will lend you my new shawl,” her mother declared as Penelope walked from the room, her invitation clutched in her hand. “You must look your very best to meet with Lady Dorothy.”
Penelope did not stop to reply, but she agreed with her mother wholeheartedly. She did need to look her best, but not for Lady Dorothy. Pausing at the bottom of the grand staircase in the foyer, she pressed her hand against her heaving chest. She was breathing as though she had just engaged in rigorous exercise. Her heart was pounding, and her breaths were short.
That strange sensation in her middle was back, as well as the heat. The mere thought of seeing the gentleman again intensified the odd feelings. They were not unpleasant. Quite the opposite, in fact, but they were…foreign. Unfamiliar, and strangely intense.
“Penelope? Are you all right? You look flushed.”
She yelped in surprise and whirled to find Harry standing just inside the front doorway, watching her with a frown.
“Brother! You frightened me. What are you doing here? Do you not have your own house to manage and haunt?” She put her hands on her hips in frustration. As much as she enjoyed having her brother around, she did not appreciate him popping in unannounced at all hours of the day. She never knew when he might show up and catch her in embarrassing circumstances.
The corner of his lips curled up in amusement. “Father requested I stop over first thing. He had some business to discuss in regards to the next shipment.”
She released a huff of breath. “Well, that is all very well and good, but you should make your presence known before you speak. You nearly scared me to death.”
“Always so dramatic,” he chuckled, walking to her so he could chuck her under her chin just as he used to do when she was a child. “What has you in such a sour mood this morning?”
“I am not in a sour mood,” she said in a pout, too late realizing she was proving his point. “I received a most unusual invitation, and it has my mind all a flutter.”
“Indeed?” His expression grew curious. “What sort of invitation? From whom?”
“The Lady Dorothy Wilson, daughter of the Duke of Lockeder, has invited me to tea tomorrow.”
Her brother’s eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. “When on earth did you two meet? No offense to you, sister dear, but she is the daughter of a Duke, and you of a Baron. You do not typically run in the same circles.”
He was right of course, and she could not deny it, though his words still caused her affront. Why was it so ridiculous that a Duke’s daughter should ask her to tea? Why was it so hard to believe a lady of such lofty station would want to be her friend? She resented the notion that she was so lowly the connection would be as unbelievable as her family was making it out to be.
“We met yesterday at the bookstore,” she snapped, leaning into the lie that Lady Dorothy’s letter had started. “She was there to purchase the new novel as well.”
“Indeed?” His tone held a note of intrigue. “A Duke’s daughter is interested in those books? How interesting.”
Penelope would swear she could see his ego growing right in front her eyes. “Many well-to-do ladies are interested in the books, brother. That does not mean they are interested in you.”
He placed his hand over his heart, his expression one of exaggerated pain. “You wound me, Penelope. How my own sister could say such cruel things to me…”
“You are exhausting,” she said with a shake of her head.
He dropped his dramatic façade with a playful wink. “And you are a gem.”
Try as she might, she could not fight her smile at his words and teasing manner. Harry’s charm always proved impossible to resist, and she found it difficult to hang on to her irritation with him for long.
“Papa is finishing up breakfast,” she said, shooing him away. “I do not have the time to entertain you, as I have a response to compose for Lady Dorothy.”
Throwing his hands into the air, he chuckled, “Yes, yes. My sister is now very important and has no more time for lowly me. Away with you, important lady. On to your very important business.”
Laughter burst from deep in Penelope’s belly as she turned to hurry up the stairs. She glanced back toward her brother once she reached the second floor landing. He was striding in the direction of the dining room, whistling as he walked.
Moving at a more controlled pace down the hallway, Penelope’s thoughts returned once more to her mysterious admirer. Her stomach fluttered and she clutched her hands with the letter to her chest. What would she encounter at Lockeder Manor? What would the honey-eyed gentleman be like? Would he acknowledge their encounter? Confess to this elaborate plot to see her again?
What would she do? What should she do? Pretend as if this was just an innocent meeting, as Lady Dorothy’s letter suggested? What choice did she have? Anything more, any hint that she was more familiar with the brother than the sister, could set her up for a catastrophic fall in the eyes of London society.
Pausing in her strides, Penelope felt a stirring of concern push through her anticipation as she realized the risks of this upcoming social call. Were anyone to find out the truth, her reputation would be in tatters. Was it worth the chance at becoming a social pariah, just to see a perfect stranger one more time?
Honey-gold eyes filled her mind, pushing through her doubts. Her fingers clutched the letter, and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Did she go and risk ruin, or refuse and forever wonder what could have been?
Chapter Five
Sunlight streamed through the paned windows, bathing the cozy library in light. Dorothy let out a sigh of contentment and rested against the settee’s cushioned back, getting more comfortable as she devoured her favorite book. It was the first work by Mr. Snowley, and the pages were wrinkled as often as she had read it.
It was a heart-wrenching tale of love and betrayal in which a dashing young king kidnaps the princess of his enemy kingdom in order to force her father’s hand into making peace. Little does he know the beautiful princess would prove too much of a temptation for him to resist…
“What are you reading?” Her brother’s voice cut through the vibrant world of Mr. Snowley’s words, yanking her back to reality.
He was standing over her, his dark brow arched, a curious gleam in his gaze. She glared at him, annoyed at his interruption.
“I am reading that romantic drivel you find so unworthy of your time.”
His lips curled into an amused smirk. “Still smarting from my teasing yesterday, I see.”
Shutting the book, she sat so that her back was straight and placed the tome next to her on the settee.
“If you thought a handful of sweets would ease the sting of your words, you had best think again. You need to be more considerate when you tease people, brother. You often sound far too serious.”
Releasing a breath, he sat down next to her, forcing her to scoot aside and make him room.
“Perhaps you are right. I do tend to get away with myself sometimes.”
His admittance of his shortcoming did much to ease her pique at him. He could be arrogant and bullheaded, but he was such a good and caring gentleman at heart. It pained her when he kept that part of himself hidden from the rest of the wo
rld.
“You have a letter,” he said suddenly, producing the piece of mail from his jacket and holding it up in front of her face with two fingers.
She frowned, taking it from him. The seal was already broken.
“Did you open this?” she asked, startled.
He nodded. “Yes. I was well within my right as its contents pertain more to me than you, in truth.”
Pursing her lips, she opened the letter and shot him an annoyed glance before reading.
My Lady,
I was so pleased to receive your letter this morning, and happily accept your invitation to tea tomorrow. It was a great pleasure meeting you at the bookstore yesterday, and I look forward to a deep and abiding friendship between us. I also am happy for the chance to make your brother’s acquaintance as well.
Yours Sincerely,
Miss Penelope Snowley
Dorothy chuckled and looked back up at her brother, whose gaze was shining with something very much like glee.
“Ah, I see. Miss Snowley has accepted my invitation. You must be pleased with yourself.”
“I am,” he said without shame. “Very pleased.”
Dorothy folded the letter back up and rested her hands on it in her lap.
“Will you not tell me more about this mystery lady and what about her snagged your attention so thoroughly?”
His grin was wistful. “There is not much more I can tell than what I have already relayed. We did not speak a word to each other, only met eyes in the bookstore. That was enough, however, to completely enthrall me.”
Dorothy could only stare up at him in wonder. She had never seen her brother like this before. Had never seen him so taken by a lady. He had always seemed rather apathetic when it came to the fairer sex, and she knew he had little interest in marriage. She had begun to doubt he would ever find someone he deemed suitable enough to take as his wife, despite his assurances to their parents that he would settle down one day and see to his duty of fathering an heir.
So, when he had come to her yesterday with an offering of her favorite marzipan and his odd request of inviting Miss Snowley for tea, it had shocked her. Who was this lady? What about her had put her brother in such immediate pursuit when no other lady had managed to rouse the barest notice from him? In the end, she had extended the invitation not only as a favor to Andrew, but in order to appease her own curiosity.
Plus, there was the added coincidence that the lady in question shared the same last name as Dorothy’s favorite writer. If Miss Snowley was a relation, perhaps she would be willing to arrange an introduction with Mr. Snowley. It was an opportunity she simply could not pass on.
“What if you find that Miss Snowley does not live up to your expectations?” she asked. The question had burned in her mind since she had first sent her letter. “As you said, you did not speak to her. You know nothing about her, apart from the fact that she is beautiful. What if she proves a disappointment?”
Andrew grinned, his eyes glowing with calm confidence. “She will not disappoint, of this I am sure.”
She furrowed her brow. “How are you sure?” Such a fanciful belief seemed at complete odds with the logical gentleman Andrew usually was.
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I just am. There was something about her…I cannot quite put words to it, but when I saw her, I knew she would be someone worth knowing.”
Dorothy would have never called Andrew a romantic, and yet here he sat, blinded by an inexplicable infatuation for a perfect stranger. It might have been amusing had it not been so puzzling.
“I do not wish to see you hurt,” she admitted, placing her hand over his where it rested on his knee. “If I am being honest, the intensity and suddenness of your interest is worrisome.”
Flipping his hand so that their palms were pressed together, Andrew laced his fingers with hers and gave a gentle squeeze. Meeting her gaze, he offered a reassuring smile.
“I appreciate your concern, darling Dorothy, but it is unwarranted. I have always known my own mind, and am certain of my instincts in such matters. Trust me. I know what I am doing.”
Dorothy wished to press him further, but knew her efforts would be futile. Once his mind was made, it could prove impossible to sway him from his intended path. In this case, that path led straight to Miss Penelope Snowley. Dorothy just prayed the lady was worthy of his affections.
* * *
Andrew left his sister in the library, knowing the moment he was gone from the room, her nose would be pressed back into her book. He grinned at the image the thought conjured in his mind, then shook his head with a chuckle. Dorothy was a peculiar creature, but he found her peculiarities to be the most engaging part of her personality. They were why he adored her so.
As he made his way through the hallway toward the staircase, no true destination in mind, he thought back to her valid concerns about his behavior. He knew we was acting well out of his usual character, and it was quite logical for Dorothy to be worried for him. Yet, it was just as he told her. Everything within him, his instincts, his conscience, his heart, was directing him toward Miss Penelope Snowley.
She haunted his mind. All he could think of was their brief encounter in the bookstore, and the way she had gazed at him as if he had stunned her. He imagined his expression had displayed a similar type of shock. Something had passed between them, of this he had no doubt. What it was for sure, he could not say. Yet it had been there, unspoken, hanging in the air like a piece of string linking them together. Even now, he felt its pull, and longed to see her again. He could not wait for tomorrow’s tea.
“Oh! Andrew! There you are, sweetheart.” His mother appeared, walking up the main staircase of the manor and stepping onto the landing before him.
He stopped and gave her a lazy grin. “Were you looking for me, Mama?”
Her smile was wide. Too wide, Andrew thought, and there was a guilty glint in her gaze that had his shoulders stiffening. She was up to something, and he had the sinking suspicion he knew exactly what it was.
“I was, my darling. I wished to catch you before you left the house for one reason or another. Lady Westerford and her daughter are calling on me today, and I hoped you would be available to stop in.”
Andrew gnashed his teeth in irritation. “I thought Lady Westerford and Lady Clara called on you yesterday?” He had not made it back in time for that planned visit, much to his mother’s annoyance.
The Duchess waved her hand in front of her face, as if batting the very idea from the air.
“Oh, it was most unfortunate, but Lady Westerford was suddenly overcome with a headache and they could not make it over.”
“How unfortunate indeed,” Andrew drawled. “How lucky that you were all free today and could successfully rearrange their visit.”
His mother beamed at him, her calculating gaze sparkling. “Yes, quite lucky indeed.”
He had to hand it to the Duchess that she was not easily swayed from her aims. She had made up her mind that he and Lady Clara would meet, and that was that. Whether he liked it or not, she would find a way to trap him in a room with the lady. Andrew knew it would be easiest just to indulge her wishes, then they could move past this latest attempt at pairing him off.
With a sigh, he said, “Well, as I do not have many pressing appointments today, I suppose it would be rude of me not to stop in and greet your guests.”
The Duchess clapped her hands together in delight. “Oh, you are the best of sons, I swear, to take your mother’s happiness to heart as you do. They will be here within the hour. I know Lady Westerford would be most welcoming of your presence.”
Andrew nodded, and his mother reached out a soft hand to pat his cheek before turning and descending the stairs. He could not fault her for her scheming, though it exasperated him to no end. All mothers took the duties of matchmaking very seriously, particularly for their daughters, but for the Duchess it was a unique challenge. In addition to her free-spirited daughter, she had a son who would one
day be a Duke with the responsibility of carrying on the family name, and an aversion to holy matrimony. If she did not scheme, how would she get either of them wed?
Still, he knew her efforts would once more be in vain. Lady Clara may have all the accomplishments and pedigree needed to qualify her as his wife, but that would not matter in the end. He would meet her as his mother wished, be polite and charming as he always was, but nothing more would come of it. There would be no correspondence, no walks around any promenades, no dancing at balls. Not with Lady Clara, at the very least.
Miss Snowley, however…
Lustful Memoirs 0f A Bewitching Lady (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 3
