Lustful Memoirs 0f A Bewitching Lady (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Violet Hamers

  “I am not the unreasonable one.” He ignored the guilt that settled in his stomach. This was not how he wished to go about things, forcing her into the open like this, but she was giving him little choice. Someday, she would understand why he pushed her. She may even thank him. “Penelope, should you not want people to know? Are you really content watching from the shadows? Do you not want people to know that you are—”

  “Stop!” she hissed, placing one of her hands over his mouth. She gazed around the hallway, as if to make sure they were truly alone. When no one else appeared, she dropped her hand and turned a glare on him. “Do not blurt such things out so carelessly, Harry! What if a servant had been walking by?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose as his head began to ache with his agitation.

  “You are being too mistrustful…”

  “You are being naïve!” she snapped. “If you think people will so readily accept the truth, then you have an unrealistic view of the world. You do not know how vicious the ton can be, how quick to ostracize ladies of high-class are.”

  He furrowed his brow. “You have never cared what anyone thinks, especially the ladies of the ton.”

  “That is not true.” Her voice dropped to a murmur, and she could not seem to meet his eyes. “I have always cared, I have just become talented at hiding it. You do not know what it is like, Harry, to be forced to interact with people who look down their noses at you simply because you do not dress or act the way they deem correct. I have never fit in the ton, but I have never been shunned from it, either.”

  “Why should it matter if you are shunned from something you so clearly hate?”

  She pursed her lips and turned her angry gaze back up to him. “Do you think Andrew would want me if I became a social pariah? Do you think the Duke and Duchess would permit him to marry me if my name is shrouded by scandal? You are so concerned with your own future happiness, you would willingly sacrifice my own!”

  “That is not at all my intent!” They were getting nowhere with this conversation, simply talking in circles. He could not convince her he was right, and she would never change his mind. “Your happiness is of the utmost concern to me. Neither of us can truly be content with our lives while this lie hangs over us, however. You have to see that!”

  “Please, Harry, just listen to reason…”

  “Enough,” he snapped, losing the last of his patience. “I am done having this argument with you. You pulled me into this scheme in the first place. You had to know this would happen someday. I am holding firm to my plan. Tomorrow evening, I plan to dine with Lady Dorothy and her parents. After dinner, I plan to propose. She will know the truth then. You must decide how you wish to deal with that fact.”

  He almost balked at the tears that filled her eyes, but his resolve was strong. She may hate him now, but soon she would understand what he knew with certainty. It did not matter what the rest of society thought. Dorothy and Lord Romwich would remain loyal to them both.

  Before she broke into sobs in front of him, he turned and marched down the hall. As he left the house and his devastated sister behind, he told himself again and again that this was the right decision.

  All would be well. He would not be responsible for his sister’s demise, as she so feared. He would not let such an outcome occur.

  Harry would never be able to live with himself otherwise.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  You had to know this would happen someday.

  You must decide how you wish to deal with that fact.

  Harry’s words rang in her head as Penelope paced the length of her bedroom. She had barely kept herself from collapsing into a useless, weeping mess after he had stormed from the house the night before. The night had been restless for her, and sleep had been elusive. Anxiety ate at her as she tried to come up with a plan to stop her brother.

  He cannot go through with this. He cannot do this to me!

  It was still mid-morning, which meant she had time before he was to call on Lady Dorothy. That was not much of a comfort, however, as she had no idea how she could get to Harry without rousing suspicion among her parents. She rarely ventured to his home, and since he had spent the entirety of the day before with them, they would likely think it odd if she insisted on visiting him alone.

  She chewed on her thumb nail as her mind raced to come up with something. There had to be a way to convince him to keep their secret.

  To keep him from ruining everything…

  A knock on her door jolted her from her tumultuous thoughts.

  “Who is it?” she called.

  “Darling? Are you all right? May I come in?” Her mother’s voice filtered into the room.

  Penelope did not really want to speak with anyone at present, but she thought it would not help her cause to have her mother concerned for her wellbeing.

  “I am fine, Mama. You may come in.”

  The door opened, and her mother poked her head inside with a frown.

  “What have you been doing, cooped up in here all morning by yourself?” She slipped into the room and closed the door behind her.

  Penelope clutched her skirt so she would not wring her hands together and give away her agitation.

  “I have just been resting. It has been an eventual few days, and I am rather weary today.”

  Concern flashing across her face, her mother hurried to her and laid her hand on Penelope’s forehead.

  “You are not getting a fever, are you? Feeling ill?”

  Penelope shook her head, dislodging her mother’s hand. “No, Mama, I am not feeling ill. Simply tired.”

  The lie slid from her tongue so easily, she shocked herself.

  “Oh, well, that is good to hear. Are you too tired to take a visitor’s call?”

  “A visitor?” Penelope frowned. “Who is calling on me the day after Christmas?”

  Her mother smiled and her eyes twinkled with delight. “Why, Lord Romwich of course, my dear.”

  “He is here? Now?” She had not expected to see Andrew so soon. The fact that he had come to visit her should have sent her heart racing with excitement, but instead her stomach tightened with dread. She could not face him yet, not with the threat of Harry revealing her greatest secret hanging over her head.

  Andrew would know something was wrong if she went to him, and she was not sure she could lie to him directly. She needed to send him away, but something within her resisted because she was also desperate to see him. It had been days, and she missed him more than she had realized.

  “He is in the parlor,” her mother said. “Do you wish to see him, or should I send him away with your apologies?”

  Send him away! Send him away! He cannot find out what is going on.

  “I will see him.” The words escaped before she fully comprehended that she was speaking.

  Idiot!

  She wished she could take the words back, but that would only make her seem strange and create awkwardness. Her mother was smiling, completely unaware of the storm raging within her daughter.

  “I am glad to hear that, my dear. You freshen up, and I will go tell him you will be but a moment.”

  Before Penelope could come up with any way to mend her blunder, her mother was out the door and disappearing down the hallway. Pressing the palms of her hands against her eyes, Penelope fought not to let out a scream of frustration.

  What am I going to do? How do I speak with him if I am afraid to lie to him?

  Releasing a defeated breath, she dropped her hands. She would need to pretend everything was fine. Give him no reason to question her.

  Taking a moment to check her reflection in her mirror, she straightened her shoulders, raised her chin, and plastered on the brightest smile she could muster. Satisfied that her expression did not give away her distress, she turned for the door. Her heart began to race as she stepped out into the hall, but she kept her smile firmly in place.

  She told herself to be calm again and again as she made her way throug
h the manor, down to the first floor, and toward the parlor. Before reaching the threshold of the open doorway, she stopped to shake her hands loose, realizing just in time that they were clenched into fists.

  Just be pleasant as ever. Give nothing away. He will not know. He will not know.

  She almost believed herself.

  Smoothing her hands down her skirts, she stepped forward and into the parlor. Inside, she found her mother seated by the fireplace, and Andrew leaning against the mantle. Her breath flew from her lips. In their time apart, she had almost forgotten how handsome he truly was. Her stomach fluttered as she took in his long, lean legs crossed casually at the ankles, his firm stomach, broad chest, and muscular arms beneath his fitted clothing.

  He had one arm draped across the mantle as he gazed at her mother intently, his expression showing appropriate interest as she regaled him with one of her many stories. Penelope hoped it was not one of her more outlandish ones. His profile was to her, and she saw he had a bit of stubble darkening his sharp jaw and chin. It gave him a roguish appearance that had her clenching her thighs together as a pulse began beating at their apex.

  At that moment, his eyes turned to her, and his lips curled up in a grin. His honey-colored eyes sparkled with such immediate adoration, it made her heart ache. Seeing his attention was drawn elsewhere, her mother turned her gaze toward Penelope as well, and her face lit up with a grin.

  “Ah, there you are my dear!” She stood, moving toward Penelope and taking both her hands. “Lord Romwich and I were beginning to wonder if you had forgotten us.”

  I could live a hundred years, and never forget him.

  Turning her gaze to her mother, Penelope shook her head. “I apologize for my delay. I hope I have not interrupted anything?”

  “Oh, nothing important, darling.” Her mother began drawing her toward the settee by the fireplace. “I was just telling Lord Romwich this fascinating bit of news I heard about Lady Randall.”

  Penelope was careful not to groan in embarrassment. All she needed was for Andrew to think her mother a loudmouth gossip. She was, of course, but he did not need to know that so soon.

  “I am sure what you have to say about Lady Randall is fascinating, My Lady,” Penelope said, patting her mother’s hand as they both sat. “However, perhaps there is something we can talk of that is more in line with Lord Romwich’s interests?”

  “Oh, do not worry for me, Miss Snowley.” She glanced up to find him fighting a grin. “I am happy to talk of whatever Lady Bienholm would like. She is a talented storyteller.”

  “Thank you, My Lord.” Penelope’s mother shot her a pointed look. “It is nice to have someone in my acquaintance who appreciates my dedication to staying in the know about the important news of the ton.”

  “Yes, I am sure it is terribly important news, My Lady,” Penelope grumbled.

  Andrew coughed into his hand, and she could tell it was in an attempt to cover his chuckle.

  “What brings you by today, My Lord?” she asked, drawing the focus away from her mother and her antics.

  “I simply wished to see you, Madam,” he answered with a grin. “I have missed you.”

  Penelope’s cheeks heated.

  I wish he would not say such things in front of Mama!

  “I…I have missed you too, My Lord,” she murmured, gazing down at her hands where they rested in her lap.

  “We have all missed your presence, My Lord,” her mother piped in, quite unnecessarily, in Penelope’s mind.

  She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at her mother, who pretended not to notice.

  Looking back to Andrew, Penelope asked, “How was your Christmas?”

  “Quite lovely,” he replied. “Though, admittedly, it would have been more so had I been able to enjoy your company over the holiday.”

  He kept saying these things and making her blush in front of her mother. Andrew had always been bold with his affections, but this was throwing her off balance. She desperately needed to keep her wits about her so as not to let any hint of her current predicament with Harry slip out by accident.

  “Perhaps next year, My Lord,” she said with a small smile, though she kept her tone polite rather than intimate in the hopes of dissuading the topic further.

  He tilted his head and arched a brow, studying her intently.

  Why is he looking at me like that? Have I made myself suspicious somehow, despite my intentions?

  “My Lord, did you know that my son, Mr. Snowley, is planning to call on your lovely sister today?” her mother questioned, and for once, Penelope was thankful for her interruption.

  Andrew nodded, turning his gaze from Penelope to her mother.

  “I did, My Lady. My sister has been missing him quite a lot. She is looking forward to his visit.”

  “Oh, yes, we are all looking forward to this visit in particular.” Her mother’s grin was wide, her excitement clear. Too late, Penelope realized the perilous territory they were entering. She scrambled to come up with a new topic that did not involve Harry and his impending proposal.

  “You know, I have just finished the most fascinating new book…”

  “Why is this visit so special, My Lady?” Andrew asked, his gaze curious as he focused on Penelope’s mother. He all but ignored Penelope herself.

  Her mother wagged her finger and shook her head, but her grin remained in place.

  “No, no. It is not my place to say, My Lord. I have been sworn to secrecy.”

  Andrew smiled, and it was charming. Despite her anxiety, Penelope could not stop her body from reacting to the grin. That place between her legs turned warm, and her skin prickled with awareness. Penelope recognized his expression as one he used when convincing someone to give him something he desired. He had used it on her several times when trying to best her in an argument, and it made her melt every time.

  “Oh, come now, My Lady,” he said, his voice as smooth as silk. “I have come to think of us as friends. Surely, you trust me to maintain your secrets?”

  Penelope slid her eyes to her mother and was shocked to see the lady was blushing. She felt a surge of jealousy, knowing Andrew could have this effect on nearly any lady he turned his sights on.

  He should use that gaze on me alone.

  She glared at him, hoping to wordlessly communicate her displeasure, but he continued to act as though she were not there.

  “Lord Romwich, you could tempt a saint into sin,” her mother giggled, as if she were a young girl again. Laying her hands in her lap, she cleared her throat, as though preparing to give some type of formal address. “Very well, I will tell you so long as you promise to keep the strictest silence on the matter.”

  “I swear, My Lady, no one shall here a word from my lips regarding this matter.” He pressed his hand over his heart, like he was making a solemn oath.

  “My Lady, it might not be wise to divulge Mr. Snowley’s private matters to Lord Romwich,” Penelope interjected. “If he wished for the gentleman to know his plans, he would have told him, I am sure.”

  Andrew turned a narrowed-eyed gaze to her, and she met it without flinching.

  “I believe I have a right to knowing any plans of Mr. Snowley’s that involve my sister, Miss Snowley.” His voice was deceptively friendly. She could hear the hard edge underlying it, a sure sign of his irritation. It did not intimidate her, however. She had faced his displeasure more than once and had escaped each encounter with her confidence intact. She was learning that she could challenge him without having to fear she would lose him.

  She gave him a polite, but cold, smile. “And I have a right to maintain my silence in order to protect my brother, My Lord.”

  Penelope could tell her response irritated him by the set of his jaw, but he did not spew a retort. Likely, he did not wish her mother to see his less-than-charming side.

  “Oh, dear, have I made things awkward?” Penelope looked toward her mother, and the lady appeared so genuinely worried, it tugged at her heart.
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br />   Softening her smile, Penelope shook her head. “No, My Lady. You have done nothing of the sort. Lord Romwich and I simply wish to protect our respective siblings, and that has put us on opposing sides. It is a travesty, though. All will be well.”

  Her mother did not look as reassured as Penelope would have liked, but she nodded.

  “All right, my dear. That is good to hear.”

  “Indeed, My Lady. Miss Snowley and I often find ourselves on opposite ends of an argument, but we always come out of it with our affections for each other intact.”

  Penelope met his gaze, and the look he gave her made her shiver. Though, not with fear. There was heat in his eyes, turning their honey color into molten gold. She swallowed and clutched her hands in her lap as she pressed her legs tighter together. That warmth between them was growing damp, and she felt an overwhelming need for relief, though she could not say from what, exactly.