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

by Violet Hamers

  “What are you doing?” her mother said in a stern tone. She pulled at Penelope’s hands to force her back down into her seat. “You are in no condition to move just yet. I will not have you fainting in your haste to go to Lord Romwich.”

  Penelope was surprised by her mother’s insight into her thoughts.

  “How do you know that is where I wish to go?”

  Her mother arched a brow. “My darling, of course you wish to go to him. You must be worried at his reaction to this news.”

  “I am,” Penelope confessed, her voice choked.

  Her mother cupped her cheek with a soft hand. “Sweetheart, try not to fret. Lord Romwich loves you. That fact is obvious to anyone who sees you two together. He will not abandon you so easily to this scandal.”

  “He may not have a choice,” the Baron interjected.

  Her mother’s nostrils flared as she stood and whirled on him. “Must you insist on adding to her torment? She is barely holding onto her sanity as it is.”

  “She needs to acknowledge the consequences she is sure to face,” her father insisted. “This will not go away overnight. It will not smooth over easily. She needs to understand that so she can prepare herself.”

  Penelope could not help but be amazed at the way her parents were both leaping to her defense, though in different ways. Last night, she had been sure they wished they had never had such a troublesome child. Her mother especially had appeared at a loss for what to do with her, worrying over the potential scandal more than her daughter’s feelings. Yet, today, in the face of that scandal, they were both firmly on her side.

  In that, she was able to find a small amount of comfort.

  Her mother raised her hands and let out a deep breath.

  “You are not wrong, husband,” she conceded. “However, there is no reason to overwhelm her any more than she already is with factors that we cannot, at present, control. We cannot know what Lord Romwich’s response will be, or what the Duke and Duchess will decide to do. What we can control is our own response. How do we present ourselves as a family in the face of this?”

  The Baron released a deep sigh but nodded. “All right. Yes, you are right as well, my love. The best thing we can do at this time is stay united and make our support of Penelope obvious to the rest of society. We will give the gossips nothing more to speak of on the matter.”

  “Good.” Penelope’s mother placed a hand on the Baron’s arm and smiled at him softly. Then, her expression turned thoughtful as her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. “Now, we must consider another grave matter.”

  “What is that?” Penelope asked.

  Her mother looked over at her. “Who was it that released the story to the papers?”

  Anger swept through Penelope as the answer she was certain of came quickly to mind. She opened her mouth to voice her suspect when a movement by the door caught her eye.

  Turning, she found Harry standing on the threshold of the room, staring at them with a quizzical gaze.

  “What in blazes is happening in here?” he demanded to know.

  Penelope’s anger enflamed into outright rage and she glared at him. This mess was his fault, she was certain.

  Lady Dorothy was the only person who could have told, and Harry was the one who had insisted on revealing the truth to her. Slowly, Penelope rose from her chair, ready to unleash hell on her unsuspecting brother.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Your Grace, you are being unreasonable!”

  “I am being unreasonable? You are acting like a fool!”

  Andrew stared his father down, unwilling to cower beneath the gentleman’s burning glare. Often throughout his life, his father had turned that look on Andrew in order to bring him to heel, and it had always worked.

  Yet it would not today. Andrew would not give up his footing in their argument. There was too much on the line. He had arrived in the dining room that morning for breakfast having no sense of the storm that was about to overwhelm his family. As he and his father had sat to eat, Bensen had arrived with the morning newspaper and offered it to the Duke.

  It had taken a moment, but when the Duke comprehended what he was reading, he had let out a shout of shock that had startled Andrew into nearly spilling his coffee. On the front page was a long article claiming that Penelope, not her brother, was the author of his famous novels. The Duke had stared at Andrew and demanded to know if he had been aware of this.

  When he had ordered Andrew to stop seeing Penelope, their fight had ensued. Now, both gentlemen stood facing each other, their argument escalating as their voices rose.

  “This will all blow over in time,” Andrew insisted. “There is no reason to sever all ties with the Snowleys.”

  “I will not have our family name stained by this scandal,” the Duke declared, slamming his fist down on the table before him. “You will obey my word in this, Andrew, or so help me God…”

  “I will not give Miss Snowley up,” Andrew snarled in response. “No matter what you threaten me with.”

  “What is the world is going on in here?” his mother’s voice cut through his haze of anger.

  He turned to find her and Dorothy standing side by side in the dining room door. They both appeared frightened, which was understandable. Neither Andrew nor his father were known to succumb to their temper. Yet, here they stood, engaged in a shouting match in the early morning hours.

  “The Snowleys find themselves embroiled in scandal,” the Duke explained, holding up the paper.

  “What?” Dorothy cried.

  The Duchess hurried to her husband to take the paper and scan its contents. Her eyebrows rose.

  “Oh, my,” she murmured.

  “Andrew, what is Father talking about?” Dorothy asked, coming up to his side to grab his arm. “What scandal?”

  He gazed down at her and sighed. “It has somehow reached the press that your Mr. Snowley is not the author of his novels. Miss Snowley is.”

  Her lips parted. “How could anyone know that? Apart from myself, Mr. Snowley and his sister have never told a soul that secret.”

  “You knew?” he exclaimed.

  Dorothy nodded. “Yes, Mr. Snowley told me yesterday before he proposed.”

  Andrew had been informed of her engagement when he had arrived home the night before. He had been overjoyed for her, but now his heart ached. Her happy news would be overshadowed by this latest story, and that could prove the least of her worries.

  “Consider that engagement over,” the Duke snapped.

  Dorothy tensed, her hands tightening around Andrew’s arm.

  “Wha…what are you saying, Papa?” she asked in a soft voice. “What do you mean, it is over?”

  “I rescind my approval of the match,” their father explained in a hard tone. “Mr. Snowley is clearly not the gentleman I believed him to be, and I will not have your reputation called into question by being associated with him in any way. You will not marry him. Neither of you will marry either of the Snowley children, and that is final.” His moved his gaze to Andrew when he spoke the last part of his declaration.

  “Papa, no!” Dorothy cried. “You cannot do this! I love him!”

  “Your feelings for the gentleman are of little consequence in the face of this disaster.” The Duke’s jaw was stubbornly set, and Andrew knew it would take more than his daughter’s broken heart to convince him to relent.

  “Papa!” Dorothy’s voice broke as tears shimmered in her eyes.

  “Your father is right,” the Duchess said, her tone even. “You cannot be connected to the Snowley children in any way now, else risk becoming pariahs within society.”

  “You cannot do this to us,” Andrew growled. “You would willingly see your only daughter in pain, and earn your son’s disdain, all for the sake of maintaining the approval of the ton?”

  “Your reputations are not the only ones at risk.” The Duchess did not appear particularly shocked or disturbed by the revelation of the Snowley’s secret. “You ri
sk the reputation of the Lockeder name if you continue your relationships. We have a duty to protect that name from all blemish.”

  “Your mother is right,” the Duke said with a nod. “This is bigger than either of you. We are responsible for the legacy of this family. You cannot be selfish in this situation.”

  “Selfish?” Andrew snapped. “When have either of us ever been selfish? We have only ever done our duty when it comes to this family. We have been obedient and conducted ourselves in the way you have deemed proper in society. You bemoaned the fact that we were both unattached for so long, and yet now that we have each found someone we love who we want to spend our lives with, you would try to take that from us?”

  “There are other ladies, Andrew,” the Duchess said with an exasperated sigh. “And other gentleman. You are both beautiful, wealthy, and highly positioned. Neither of you will have difficulty finding another match.”

  He stared at his mother in disbelief. How could she so easily dismiss their feelings?

  Does she truly think I could find another love as all-consuming as the one I have found with Penelope?

  Just the thought of losing her made him nauseous.

  I need to see her. I need to know she is well.

  “I do not want anyone but Miss Snowley.” He glanced down at Dorothy, who had tears running down her cheeks. “And Dorothy wants no one but Mr. Snowley.”

  “You are acting like children,” the Duke scolded. “Do not think to defy me or change my mind, Andrew. You will give up that lady just as Dorothy will give up that gentleman, and that is the end of it.”

  Dorothy burst into sobs, her tears no longer silent.

  “It is not the end of it, Father,” Andrew barked. He gently pulled himself from Dorothy’s hold. She covered her face with her hands and cried so hard, her shoulders shook. Though he was loathed to leave her like this, the urge to see Penelope and know that she was well was too overwhelming to ignore. Turning from his family, he marched to the dining room door.

  “Just where do you think you are going?” the Duke snarled.

  “I am going to see Miss Snowley,” he explained without looking back. “I am going to make sure the lady I love is not too overcome with distress by this news story, and I am going to offer her what comfort I can.”

  “Andrew, wait!” his mother called.

  “You will not step foot in the Snowley household, do you hear me?” the Duke bellowed after him. “If you go near that lady, there will be grave consequences.”

  Your consequences be damned.

  Andrew ignored his parents and continued on without a backwards glance.

  * * *

  “I told you, did I not? I told you she would tell!”

  “We do not know for sure that it was her!”

  Penelope wanted to slap Harry across his face in the hopes of knocking sense back into his skull, but she held herself back. She was in enough trouble as it was. Striking her brother in front of their parents would do little to repair the damage done.

  “Who else could it be, Harry?” she asked, exasperated. “The only other people to know of the secret was our family, and we both know Mama and Papa would never have told.”

  Harry gazed at her helplessly. When he had first arrived, she had stormed up to him and confronted him with the paper, thrusting it into his chest and declaring she had known this would happen, but he had refused to listen to her. He had taken a moment to read the story, his eyes widening in growing horror with each line. When he had looked back up at her, he had asked her who could have possibly done this?

  She had replied with the name of the person she was sure was the guilty party. Lady Dorothy.

  Though Harry tried to defend the lady, Penelope could see the doubt that was creeping into his gaze.

  “There has to be some other explanation,” he insisted stubbornly. “Lady Dorothy would have never gone to the papers about this. An accidental slip of the tongue is one thing, but this is intentional sabotage of our characters. She and I are engaged! Why would she do this to us?”

  Penelope hated to admit that he had a point, but that did not mean the lady was innocent of all wrongdoing.

  “Fine, perhaps she did not go to the papers directly herself,” she snapped. “That does not mean she did not tell anyone. She could have let it slip to a servant or maid who took the story to a reporter themselves. Either way, this scandal is the direct result of you not listening to me, Harry. I told you not to tell! I told you this was the risk! You ignored my warnings, and this is the result.”

  “I do not regret telling Lady Dorothy,” he growled. “I love her, and I want to marry her. She deserved the truth.”

  “Well, that truth may have cost you your love.” Their mother stepped up next to Penelope with her hands on her hips. “With the scandal this will cause, the Duke and Duchess may very well decide you are not an appropriate match for their daughter after all.”

  Harry paled, his shoulders stiffening as he stared at his mother and sister.

  “It…it does not matter what they think,” he stammered. “Lady Dorothy and I are in love. We will run away if that is what it takes.”

  The Baron stomped up to his son and thwacked him on the back of his head with his open hand.

  “You foolish boy,” their father spat. “Think rationally. If you run off with Lady Dorothy, you will ruin her. She will have no place in society, and you risk her being cut from her family. Is that really what you want? Is that what you think she would really want?”

  “I…I…I do not know.” Harry appeared flustered, his gaze shooting between the three of them as they stood facing him down. He squeezed his eyes shut, but then released a deep sigh and opened them to say, “No. No, I do not believe that is what she would want.”

  “We should confront her,” Penelope said, returning to her point of accusation. “Make her confess to whom she spoke.”

  “Calm down, Penelope.” The Baron placed his hand on her shoulder. “It does us no good to attack Lady Dorothy like this. Perhaps, in truth, it was not her. We cannot put a wedge between her and Harry like that unless we have proof.”

  “But, Papa! Who else could it be?”

  The Baron shrugged. “Perhaps someone overheard Harry tell her the secret? There could be any number of explanations.”

  “Still, we should speak to her,” Penelope asserted.

  “I will speak to her,” Harry said, his eyes narrowed at his sister. “I will not have you interrogating her and insulting her.”

  “Very well,” Penelope agreed, crossing her arms. “Ask her, but if it is as I suspect, and she was the one who told, we will know her as a gossip and a liar.”

  Harry furrowed his brow. “A liar? How has she lied?”

  “By telling you she loved you.”

  Harry’s gaze flashed with rage. “Careful, sister. You tread on dangerous ground.”

  “Only if it is not true,” she hissed.

  They glared at each other for several moments more until a tentative knock at the dining room doorway broke their focus. Carlton stood gazing at the family with a grim expression.

  “Miss Snowley, forgive the interruption, but you have a visitor.”

  Penelope frowned. “Who could be calling at this hour?”

  “It is Lord Romwich, Madam.”

  Her heart swelled. He was here. He was not going to abandon her.

  “See him to the parlor. Fetch my lady’s maid as well. I will be there in a moment.”

  Carlton bowed and turned to hurry away.

  Penelope glanced toward Harry. “This conversation is not over.”

  “Oh, I think it is,” he snapped. He began striding toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” their mother asked, a desperate tinge underlying her tone. “This is no time to be running off, Harry.”

  “I am going to see Dorothy,” he answered without looking back at them. “I am going to clear up this misunderstanding.”

  “But…” Their mother fel
l silent when the Baron took her hand.

  “Let him go, my love. Once he has talked to Lady Dorothy, he will return.”

  “Oh, very well,” their mother murmured.

  Maybe it would be better if he did not come back.

  Penelope kept that thought to herself, however. She knew she was overly angry at present, but she could not help herself. Whether Lady Dorothy proved the guilty party or not, Harry was ultimately at fault for everything. If she lost Andrew as a result of her brother’s actions, she did not think she would ever be able to forgive him.